AllFreeNovel
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"It's going okay. There are some disagreements on one of the scene cuts I want to make. The discussion is going horribly because egos are involved."
I chuckle. Men and their egos.
"Well, I do not doubt you will make the right decision. You have good instincts, Aaron."
"My ears are ringing, and I think that's a sign that my name is being used in vain again, so I better go. Let me know how it goes with the artist. What is the artist's name? You haven't said."
"I've signed an NDA, so I can't tell you, but I can tell you it's a woman."
"Oh, okay, tell your anonymous female artist I say hello." I can hear the smile in Aaron's voice as we hang up.
I unpack and order groceries, then sit down to review my notes and some lyrics I'm trying out. I will share the song I started about Aaron and me and see if the artist might like to add it to her album.
I look at the address and the time I'm supposed to be at the studio, then shower and head to bed. Laying in bed, I think about Aaron and myself in the shower in Orlando. I miss him, miss his touch. He has kept me in shape, and I grow warm thinking about his body against mine; the tile cools my back. I roam my hands down my body, thinking about his kneading my flesh, his fingers finding my secret place. His fingers hit my G-spot perfectly, and I think of this as I slide inside my swollen and slick chamber. I'm wet and responsive. I find the right spot, and with one hand squeezing my nipple, I grab my clit with my thumb and imagine Aaron pushing into me. I cum with a few strokes. I lay back against the pillows, catching my breath. The only thing missing is Aaron's arms around me as I fall asleep.
********
My first impression of her is, "Wow." I walk into the studio while she is recording, and her voice sounds like soft bells, all in harmony. I know I'm in the right place, and can't wait to share my song lyrics with her. I hope she uses them.
She spies me in the background and holds up one finger to let me know she sees me and will be done soon. I look around at all the equipment. I watch the sound engineer push and pull tabs and buttons, tinkering with the sound. I can hardly contain myself.
I set my bag down and sit in a plush, comfy chair. I close my eyes and listen to every note from the singer's mouth. I'm so engrossed that I don't realize she is standing in front of me smiling. I stand up quickly, a bit embarrassed.
"Hi, I'm Erica. I'm so glad to meet you and can't wait to start." I shake her hand till she slowly frees her hand from mine. Instead, she hugs me, and I'm caught off guard.
"I'm happy to meet you too, Erica. I'm Mary. How about I take a break, and we get to know each other?"
"Great, yes, let's do it."
We both laugh, and I instantly feel at ease. Mary is so down-to-earth and friendly. I know I'll love working with her.
She takes me out to eat. We order breakfast, coffee, and talk. She shares some harrowing moments in her life with me; I share that I'm engaged, just in case she sees photos of me in the tabloids, but leave out that it's a lie. She is married and has a small toddler, a girl. She shows me a picture of her; she is adorable with her blonde curls and big blue eyes. She looks just like her mom.
"My husband brings her by when she gets too fussy, and he can't get her down, so you will see her in the studio sometimes. I sing to her, and she's out in seconds." We both laugh.
"So, do you think you're ready to start?" she asks me.
I say now is as good a time as any. We get back to the studio, and I show Mary my lyrics.
****************************
Working with Mary is giving me such a rush and so much energy that the weeks have flown by. She's even recording the song I wrote about Aaron and me, the one my mom tricked me into singing for some stranger on video. I can't wait for Aaron to hear it.
I get up to get ready for work, and suddenly I have nausea and run to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I feel like a bus has hit me. I must have the flu or COVID. Crap, I hope it's not COVID.
I make an appointment with urgent care later in the day and head to the studio. I'm not there for five minutes before I have to run to the bathroom again. Well, there goes my breakfast. I search for crackers to help my upset stomach and let the producer and artist know I have an appointment later.
"Are you okay?" she asks me. "You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," I say, wiping the sweat off my face.
I find a mask and put it on. I get through the morning on saltines and water and find they help the nausea.
"Let me know what the doctor says, okay?"
"Of course!" I throw a wave behind me as I go to my appointment, praying I didn't just expose my co-workers to a deadly virus.
I check in at the front desk and wait patiently to be called back. The nurse calls me back, and I enter a sterile room.
