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“Okay, let’s feed you breakfast, and we’ll go.”
* * *
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Roy turns in his chair, a wide grin spreading over his lips. “Bash Black has risen from the dead.”
“Did you miss me, old man?” I ask, slapping my palm against his and pulling him into a side hug.
“As if,” he snorts. “I could finally work with more reasonable people. The ones who actually tend to listen instead of trying to boss me around. Such hardship.”
“That sounds like you,” Penelope chuckles, drawing Roy’s attention.
“And who do we have here?” he asks as he glances between the two of us, interest clear on his face.
“Birdy, meet Roy, my producer and longtime friend. Roy, this is Penelope, my girlfriend.”
The older man’s brows jump up at my statement. “Girlfriend? What? Did pigs suddenly start flying or something?” He pretends to look out the window. “That’s the only explanation if Mr. Bad Boy Black finally decided to settle down?”
“Oh, zip it, Roy. I’m not that bad.”
Roy leans toward a still-laughing Penelope and whispers conspiratorially: “Worse. Don’t believe a word that comes out of that boy’s mouth.”
“That I don’t have a hard time believing,” she chuckles.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” I protest.
Penelope’s hand tightens around mine. “Yours. Always yours. But that doesn’t mean that I’m blind to your faults. No pun intended.”
Roy starts laughing loudly, “Oh, I like you. I really hope you’re keeping her around, Black. She seems like one who can keep you on your toes.”
I glance at Penelope’s smiling face, and I feel myself softening. “That she does.”
“So.” Roy claps his hands. “What brings you two here? You finally ready to settle down and start making magic again?”
The notebook that’s in my back pocket suddenly feels heavy. The last few months have been good, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to get back to it, at least, not yet.
“Well, today we’re here so I can show Penelope where the magic happens. She’s a music major at Blairwood.”
That gets Roy’s attention. “Beautiful and talented?”
Penelope’s cheeks turn red at the compliment. “I’m not sure about that.”
“She’s being modest,” I counter, pulling her into my side. “She’s so fucking good.”
Roy’s brows quirk up, practically touching his forehead. I wasn’t one to give praise lightly, and the guy knows it. “Well, we’ve gotta hear that. What do you play?”
“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to…” Penelope starts to protest, but Roy waves her off.
“She plays piano.” I look down at her. “C’mon, Birdy. One song. What can it hurt?”
“That’s not what we agreed on.”
“No? I planned on showing you around.”
“Exactly, showing me around! This is not showing me.”
“So what? You get to experience what it’s like to sit in the booth firsthand. It’s going to be fun.”
She nibbles at her lip. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”
