We didn’t do any of that stuff at the motel. We’re not in high school and don’t plan on having fans come here for a jam session.”
“Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to. For all your desire to keep yourself under wraps, you say things loud and clear without a word.”
He cupped her chin. “Unlike you, who says things two ways: loud and louder. Let me show you inside and you can tell me if anything is missing.” He slid the pad of his thumb along the edge of her lower lip. “Damn, Alana,” he whispered before he kissed her, separating her lips with a slice of his tongue, and then just as quickly he released her.
“Jon,” she said on a sigh, and didn’t know how to put into words what she felt. Two days…this was crazy.
“Yes. You were saying?”
“Don’t let your head swell as large as before. Okay? This is fine and all. But if we record something here, off-site, who owns it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t keep up with who’s who in this town, but if Altwood recorded his platinum record here, you were probably in the same position as his producer.”
“Fine. I can see, for all your wide-eyed innocence, you’re still concerned I might be a dick in sheep’s clothing. Take a look at the cottage and then I’ll fix something for us to eat while you review the contract. Tomorrow we meet with the band. This agreement isn’t like the one Tyler gave you and an attorney, independent of the Lansing Record label, will be there to represent your interests.”
* * *
After shedding his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, Jon fixed them pasta with a light sauce and freshly grated parmesan cheese. A bottle of chilled white wine was opened, poured, and he had her laughing with stories from his client base over the years. Mishaps and fiascos that had turned around in the end, and she found herself twirling the wine in her glass, eyeing him over the rim, and wondering why he was alone even for a night.
“Let me help you clear,” she said, brushing up against him. The jolt of electricity made her shiver.
“Then afterwards, I’ll take you down to the studio and you can see if it meets your requirements.”
“You’re not lonely up here? I thought someone in your position would have a ton of staff.”
“They’re all off tonight. Tomorrow my housekeeper and groundsman will be lurking about. A cleaning crew comes and goes as needed. And I’ve not lied to you about enjoying my privacy. On holidays, I meet up with my friends in New York or London. I turned my phone off tonight. Otherwise, it would blare with a constant stream of nonsense. Lonely? I could only hope.”
“But that’s not the same. Being harangued by business issues isn’t the same as a family. Or is it, to you?” She noticed him grimace at the mention of family.
He shot back, “I prefer structure. This town is a beehive of activity. Maintaining control and a schedule are key to keeping one’s head. A good trait for you to acquire.”
Alana folded the cloth napkins as he loaded the dishwasher, searching for a clue about him in this light. A complete loner. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. During her time at the salon, she’d gotten a taste, or rather an eyeful, of Jon’s arm-candy dates to the millions of parties he’d attended. She made the mistake of doing an internet search. He might not be lonely. There was a difference between being lonely and a confirmed bachelor. And one with the ability to control outcomes. What had Christy said…a man-whore. He was a player. Right down to dismissing his staff for the night. She was nothing but a foregone conclusion, and talk about assuming... Projections didn’t turn him into an ass; apparently, they worked out in his dickhead favor with his airtight planning.
“You’ve worked out all the details, right? I’m staying here for the two weeks. Mind giving me a rundown of your plans? Do you have them typed up, by chance?”
Chapter
“Did I say that?”
“You didn’t have to. For all your desire to keep yourself under wraps, you say things loud and clear without a word.”
He cupped her chin. “Unlike you, who says things two ways: loud and louder. Let me show you inside and you can tell me if anything is missing.” He slid the pad of his thumb along the edge of her lower lip. “Damn, Alana,” he whispered before he kissed her, separating her lips with a slice of his tongue, and then just as quickly he released her.
“Jon,” she said on a sigh, and didn’t know how to put into words what she felt. Two days…this was crazy.
“Yes. You were saying?”
“Don’t let your head swell as large as before. Okay? This is fine and all. But if we record something here, off-site, who owns it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t keep up with who’s who in this town, but if Altwood recorded his platinum record here, you were probably in the same position as his producer.”
“Fine. I can see, for all your wide-eyed innocence, you’re still concerned I might be a dick in sheep’s clothing. Take a look at the cottage and then I’ll fix something for us to eat while you review the contract. Tomorrow we meet with the band. This agreement isn’t like the one Tyler gave you and an attorney, independent of the Lansing Record label, will be there to represent your interests.”
* * *
After shedding his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, Jon fixed them pasta with a light sauce and freshly grated parmesan cheese. A bottle of chilled white wine was opened, poured, and he had her laughing with stories from his client base over the years. Mishaps and fiascos that had turned around in the end, and she found herself twirling the wine in her glass, eyeing him over the rim, and wondering why he was alone even for a night.
“Let me help you clear,” she said, brushing up against him. The jolt of electricity made her shiver.
“Then afterwards, I’ll take you down to the studio and you can see if it meets your requirements.”
“You’re not lonely up here? I thought someone in your position would have a ton of staff.”
“They’re all off tonight. Tomorrow my housekeeper and groundsman will be lurking about. A cleaning crew comes and goes as needed. And I’ve not lied to you about enjoying my privacy. On holidays, I meet up with my friends in New York or London. I turned my phone off tonight. Otherwise, it would blare with a constant stream of nonsense. Lonely? I could only hope.”
“But that’s not the same. Being harangued by business issues isn’t the same as a family. Or is it, to you?” She noticed him grimace at the mention of family.
He shot back, “I prefer structure. This town is a beehive of activity. Maintaining control and a schedule are key to keeping one’s head. A good trait for you to acquire.”
Alana folded the cloth napkins as he loaded the dishwasher, searching for a clue about him in this light. A complete loner. She shook her head. That was ridiculous. During her time at the salon, she’d gotten a taste, or rather an eyeful, of Jon’s arm-candy dates to the millions of parties he’d attended. She made the mistake of doing an internet search. He might not be lonely. There was a difference between being lonely and a confirmed bachelor. And one with the ability to control outcomes. What had Christy said…a man-whore. He was a player. Right down to dismissing his staff for the night. She was nothing but a foregone conclusion, and talk about assuming... Projections didn’t turn him into an ass; apparently, they worked out in his dickhead favor with his airtight planning.
“You’ve worked out all the details, right? I’m staying here for the two weeks. Mind giving me a rundown of your plans? Do you have them typed up, by chance?”
Chapter
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