“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Stephen Shale. Are you going to disappoint me?”
“N-no, m-ma’am.”
“Well, we’ll see about that. I’m very judgmental.” She dropped Stephen’s hand, turning to me with a sly smile. “So, Miss Boss…”
“Oh, god. Don’t tell me I picked up another embarrassing nickname.”
“I’m going to have to start my own app to keep track of them at this rate.” She gave me a playful little push, the kind I’d learned she was so fond of. As always, my brain exploded into static when she touched me, fingertips lingering just a bit on my shoulder as she pulled back. “And I’mstillwaiting for mine. I’m going to have to start judging you both.”
God, I was glad Stephen was too stunned by the presence of a hot girl to take in the conversation. I didn’t need him asking me about my crush on the city’s most unattainable woman. “Well, you heard her, Stephen Shale,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure he did. “I’ve already gotten judged. Up to you now to impress her.”
His face flushed, and he stood up taller. “Yeah, all right, Miss. Just watch me. I think you’ll like my beats. I can drop a freestyle for you.”
“Let’s go with the song I wrote you,” I said, cutting in a little sharply, and his face fell just a bit.
“Oh, uh, okay.”
Crisis averted.
He didn’t suck too bad, once I got him on the keys, an upright Yamaha with a dusty vintage tone, and had him singing lines he’d practiced before, the backing track filling the space around us. Helena stood at the side with me, looking impressed, and most of all, she cast impressed-looking glances atme,as if she was happy with whatIwas doing here, which, again, brought me back to the earlier subject: holy shit.
“That’s good,” Helena said once he finished. “It’s got soul, feeling.”
“You’ve come a long way, Stephen Shale,” I said. “Only just beginning, though, am I right?”
“Ha. Yeah,” he said, spinning around on the piano bench and sitting like the proper kid in class. Whatever. “You got some good bars, Miss Branch.”
Helena smiled wider, her eyes fixed unerringly on me in a way that I felt normal and cool about. “So, was this the song you promised to write me, or do I still have that to look forward to?”
Was—was she flirting with me in front of Stephen? God, I hoped this wasn’t getting back to Kingmaker. “Nah,” I said. “Still working on that one. You’ll know when you hear it.”
Stephen spoke up. “You’ve got another one you’re working on?”
“Hey, I’ve been working on this hit, too. I do a lot of things at once. So, what do you think?” I said, turning to Helena, leaning back against the wall next to the drum kit. “Normally we hit up our local studio, but we came to this one today to try doing something serious, get a record. Nothing huge, just so we got something in Stephen Shale’s portfolio when we’re moving to bigger stages. You think it’s good?”
She laughed a little self-deprecatingly. “I’m not the musician here,” she said, which, like, neither was I, but I wasn’t telling her that. “I think it’s good. It’s a bit raw, but it’s real. You can feel a lot of the passion… but you’re a better judge than I am.”
“Hear that, Stephen Shale?” I said. “Looks like you didn’t disappoint her after all.”
“Aw, gee,” he said, which, again, this kid came in and said he wanted to becooler than cool,and he was droppingaw, gee.Nothing harder than a hip-hop legend goinggee whiz.He was still blushing hard over Helena, which, like, Christ, so was I, butI needed him to stop being a mirror of the most embarrassing parts of me.
“Right then,” I said, standing up. “C’mon, Helena. We’ll grab the tech and get recording. Stephen, keep warming up.”
I’d only just slid the door shut behind me, the door sweep brushing over the carpet as it went and latching hard to shut off the sound, when Helena spoke softly behind me. “So… dare I ask why you’re Miss Branch here, when you’re not being Miss Boss?”
I tried for a casually self-deprecating smile even though I felt like I’d be sick. I’d explained to her briefly over text before today, hoping that using enough of anoh-by-the-waytone would make it come across as unremarkable, that in the music industry I was Julie Branch, using my maiden name. When she accepted it without question, I thought maybe I was in the clear, that she didn’t want to go near the topic of my fictional marriage. But here she was, with just the two of us in a dimly lit hallway gleaming with commemorative plaques on the walls, Helena standing close to me, she was going near the topic.
“You know,” I said, shrugging. “Wanted to be my own person.”
“How long have you been… attending events without him?”
I looked down. “Not… not long.”
She was quiet for a second before, softly, she said, “I know you’re trying to get work done. But just for the sake of asking… are you okay?”
God, of course I fucking wasn’t. I was working overtime every damn day running myself ragged just for the tiniest chance at being able to claw my way out of this hole, and I didn’t have anyone around me I could really trust, really confide in—nobody I trusted with the whole story—and I knew the whole thing was one inconvenient thread pull away from coming unraveled. I compartmentalized most of the time, but with Helena giving methat soft look and speaking gently, I crumpled, just a little. “Just fine,” I said, but my voice was thin and wavered at the edges.
“Are you safe?”
