Chapter 6

Jack

The icy wind of the London air hit me as I stepped out of the studio, not a moment too soon. I was making a fool of myself. To top it off, I'd gone and invited the woman to dinner with the band.

"To the studio," I said to Mick as he approached and opened the car door.

Sliding into the back, I relaxed a little. At least in here, I could think without anyone else bugging me. Not that I had long until we'd be at Abbey Road, but it was a start.

The interview had been close to a train wreck. What on earth had I been thinking when I'd insisted they interview us both? It was bound to piss off the host.

I exhaled as I thought about the moment I'd done it. The look on Juno's face. She'd tried to hide it, but she'd been both shocked and grateful. Her face had expressed every little emotion for the observant to see.

The moment I'd set eyes on her, I'd seen this nervous young woman. She'd faced her fears well, standing up for herself as best she could, but she didn't have the clout I did. They almost never did. She'd been denied, about to be thrown out and left with nothing, and she'd known it.

And, of course, I'd done what I always did. Rescued the damsel in distress, even though she was clearly stronger than most. Might even have bounced back and got O'Sullivan to interview her another time. But I'd gone and given her a different option.

Instantly, I'd thought of the moment on the sofa beside her. When she'd been asked about her book. A book about me.

Fuck.That's what I'd thought. Fuck.

What a question to be asked in your first interview. Tell us about the fan fiction you wrote about the famous person right beside you.

It had been intended to shame her. Intended to embarrass me. Somehow, she'd found the words to stop it from doing either. Damn, the girl had a way with words. Not entirely surprising, but…

No, I wasn't going to follow that thought. It was bad enough I'd invited her to dinner with the band. They weren't going to understand. Especially once they saw the video. They were going to think I wanted to get into her panties. Twenty years ago, I might have wanted to.

Fuck.

There was no way I could undo it now. I didn't have her number. Only thing I could do was neglect to tell the boys at the door to let her through.

Yeah, maybe that would work. She'd get frustrated with them, give up, and go home, and I'd never have to see her again. Wouldn't even need to tell the band.

I let out a growl. Couldn't do it, and I knew it. It would humiliate her. And she'd rescued me from the same thing only half an hour ago.

No, she was coming to dinner, and I would have to tell the band about her. Why was I always so kind to everyone? Rescuing them, inviting them, including them.

Because the world needed more nice people. It needed more people who tried to right the wrongs. Not that the world deserved it. Most people didn't, but that wasn't the point. It made the world a better place, and most people paid it forward where they could.

I'd done the right thing, even if the roadies talked. And I was curious about her. Juno Fernsby. What a name.

This contradiction of a woman. Both a frightened little girl who didn't know what to say or do and a confident young woman who didn't let a disgruntled TV show host intimidate her. She'd found her steel when it mattered.

Part of me wanted to know what she'd be like in front of the band. Wanted to know what she smelled like up close, what her chestnut-brown hair felt like when I ran my fingers through it. What it would feel like to…

No. I couldn't think like that, either.

What I needed most was a cold shower, but all too soon, I was at the studio and being ushered inside. There were crowds of fans outside, and I took a moment to wave and sign autographs, letting them take photos and whatever else they wanted. The fans were great most of the time, and I didn't mind them.

Occasionally, they got overzealous, but most of them just wanted to be able to say something about the music or movies and then go on with their lives feeling like they'd touched the stars.

In a lot of ways, I was lucky. People let me do things others didn't get to. My whole world was like a playground, but it was also full of rules about behavior and a sort of unspoken celebrity code.

The inside of the studio was quieter. Our band was the only one still recording and booked in this late in the day, and it sounded like there must have been a break for a moment as I got closer and everyone was milling around.

"How'd it go?" Kai asked as he noticed me.

"It was different. Don't think O'Sullivan is going to invite me back in a hurry."

"Why? You crap on his sofa?"

"Not exactly. Forced him to interview me and this other chick there. A writer. He'd double-booked us in case I didn't show or couldn't make it and then tried to blow her off."

Kai didn't respond at first, giving me that look of his. He was assessing me, but not in a bad way. Like he didn't want to pry if I didn't want to talk, but he was giving me a moment to continue if I wanted it.

"I told her to swing by in about an hour."

"She cool, then?"

"The interview was…interesting."

"Sounds like meeting her will be fun. And maybe we'll watch that interview, too." Kai grinned, his eyes lighting up, but it was all he would say on the matter. It was time to get on with the job.

Within seconds, I was in the studio, my guitar in my hands. It wasn't my only one, just one of the more comfortable ones. For a moment, I just held it, getting into the mood it brought with it.

Putting on an instrument was a bit like putting on a mask. I slipped into the me who played guitar. I became Jack the rock star. Jack the musician. And it felt right today.

Over the next forty or fifty minutes, we laid down tracks and riffs, tweaking things here and there and playing them again to get the right sort of sound.

"Right, I think we've got everything we need for that part," the main sound engineer said, giving a thumbs-up at the same time.

For a moment, I didn't move, not wanting to take the guitar off and put it down. Taking a deep breath, I did anyway and headed out into the booth.

"I think we should do the last few parts of that song and call it a night. Finish the rest tomorrow," Kai said. "You good with that?"

"Yeah," I replied, my mind already going in one direction. Juno, with her wide eyes and long hair. She'd turned those bright blue eyes on me and practically begged me to rescue her. How on earth did she seem both so confident and so needy all at the same time?

She was a puzzle, and I wanted to figure her out. But did I really want to do that in front of everyone else? And what would they think of the interview and what she'd said?

Sighing, I excused myself from the group and headed to the front door again. Only then did I find myself wondering, what if she didn't show?