Chapter Sixteen

Scarlett

The sound of the phone ringing stirred me from a deep sleep. I hadn’t been alone in my sleep, figuratively speaking. Cameron was there with me, holding me, touching me, and making me feel safe. Last night, I had gone to bed alone, but the familiar loneliness I had become accustomed to since moving to Nashville was gone. In its place were visions of Cameron smiling or looking at me with desire.

I reached out blindly, my eyes still closed, not wanting to lose the image of Cameron I’d been dreaming about.

“Hello?” I mumbled, my voice sleepy.

“Is this Scarlett Morgan?” a male voice asked.

My mind instantly went on alert. I sat up in bed, looked at the caller ID, and didn’t recognize the number.

“Who’s calling?” I asked, unwilling to admit to anything.

“This is Cesar Martin from Sound Blaster Studio.”

I blinked several times, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain.

“This is Scarlett,” I said, a little anxious to hear what he wanted with me.

“Hi, Scarlett. First, let me apologize for the delay it took to call you. We got your application and loved it. Unfortunately, it got set aside and then misplaced in the everyday shuffle. Anyway, I would like to invite you to come in for an interview.”

“I’d like that,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound like I was in bed at ten in the morning. I didn’t think that sent a great message to a potential employer, even if it wasn’t a paid position.

“Great. Can you come in at one?” There was enthusiasm in his voice.

I nodded before I realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes. I can do that. I’ll be there. Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

“No problem. We’re all excited to meet you.”

We hung up and I took a moment to bask in the excitement. I had a real shot at actually doing what I had always dreamed of. This could be my moment. Now I had to figure out what to wear. I wanted to be hip, professional, and classy without looking like I was trying too hard.

I spent the next hour going through my closet and putting together what I hoped was the perfect outfit. I jumped in the shower, the music blasting, pumping me up for what I hoped was a successful interview.

I went with a light touch of makeup and kept my hair loose. My slightly distressed jeans paired with black pumps and a black chiffon shirt with shoulder cutouts looked young and stylish without going too far over the top. Or at least I hoped.

I walked into the rather small building that housed the studio and asked for Cesar.

“You must be Scarlett,” the middle-aged woman said with a warm smile.

“I am.”

“I’m Trina. I apologize for misplacing your application. Things were crazy around here last week.”

I nodded and smiled at her. “It’s okay. I understand.”

She knocked on a closed door.

“Come in,” the familiar male voice called out.

Trina opened the door and introduced me as Scarlett to the head of the studio.

“It’s good to meet you,” I said, confidence infused in my voice.

I sat down in the chair he offered and fought the butterflies in my belly. I couldn’t appear nervous. I needed to look confident and like I was the perfect person for the job.

“Let me start by telling you a little about our studio. As you can see”—Cesar waved his arm around as if to encompass the building—“we’re small, but that’s what our artists like most about us. We don’t work with any big names in the industry. If that’s what you were hoping for, I need to dispel you of that notion right now,” he said seriously.

I shook my head. “That’s not my main goal. My goal is to produce music and work with artists from various genres.”

“Do you have a preference?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I like country, but it isn’t my favorite,” I said, knowing I may have very well sealed my fate by disparaging country music in a Nashville studio.

He burst into laughter. “It isn’t my favorite either. It isn’t even my second favorite.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, thanking god I hadn’t stuck my foot into my mouth too badly. “What kind of music do you produce here?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t electronic or something along those lines.

He smiled. “We vary, but most of our artists tend to be folksy, country rock, or really unique in general. We love finding artists who don’t sound like anyone else out there. We’re hoping to work with a producer that can help take our studio to the next level without us moving away from what we really enjoy.”

“As an intern, what would I be doing?” I asked, a little afraid to hear the answer. I envisioned coffee runs, stocking toilet paper in the bathroom, and filing paperwork.

“You would be working with me, learning the ropes and getting a feel for the business in general. I imagine there will be some errands you’ll be asked to run, but we have no intention of bringing anyone on as unpaid maid service.”

I grinned. “That’s good to know.”

“Have you ever worked in a recording studio before?”

I shook my head. “No. This would be my first. I’m really trying to get my foot in the door.”

He nodded. “Okay, well, do you have any other questions for me?”

I gulped, knowing I should ask questions but having no idea what to ask. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“Great. We’ll be in touch and let you know which direction we’ll be going in.”

He stood and shook my hand. I walked out of the building, not entirely sure how I felt. I didn’t exactly get the job, but it did sound like I had a chance.

“Guess what!” I squealed when Hannah answered her phone.

“What? Wait, let me guess: You slept with Mr. Hot Cop again?”

I rolled my eyes. “Actually, yes, but that’s not why I’m calling. I just had a job interview! Well, not an actual job, but an internship at a music studio!”

She hooted with glee. “We’re coming back to the cop situation, but tell me everything about the job.”

I excitedly filled her in and accepted her premature congratulations.

“I have to get back to work,” she said. “You are going to fill me in on the cop situation tonight. Don’t spare any detail.”

I laughed. “A real lady never kisses and tells.”

She scoffed and hung up the phone. Feeling elated, I drove home and found Cameron knocking on my front door.

“Hey,” I said, getting out of the car.

“Hey. I thought we were going to grab lunch today?”

I slapped a hand to my forehead. “I’m really sorry. I woke up late, and then I had an interview. I completely forgot we were going to hang out today.”

“That’s okay. We can grab a late lunch if you’re up for it.”

I grinned and walked toward him. I realized I was about to kiss him hello and stopped myself. That would be too boyfriend-like. We weren’t together. We weren’t a couple. We didn’t kiss hello.

“I’d like that,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “Did you want to go now?”

“Sure. You look nice,” he said, his eyes roaming over my body.

“Thank you.”

“We can take my truck,” he said, heading across the lawn to his big pickup.

I looked at the height and realized getting in was going to take some effort. Cameron was the perfect gentleman and opened the door for me before giving me a little boost inside.

“So how was the interview?”

I shrugged. “I thought it went great, but he didn’t come right out and say I got it. He said they would call and let me know.”

“I hope you get it. Is it doing the music thing?” he asked, backing out of the driveway.

“Yep, with new artists. It would really be my dream job,” I said, a little breathless at the thought of getting to work in a studio every day.

Even if I wasn’t getting paid, it would still be awesome. Getting to be around people making music and learning firsthand how a track was cut and produced would be worth it. I was afraid to get my hopes up but did it anyway.

“What would you like for lunch?” he asked in that easy way of his that always made me feel so comfortable when I was with him.

“I’m up for anything.”

“There’s a sandwich shop I like. Does that work for you?”

“Yep.”

He drove to the shop and was kind enough to help me out of his big truck. We ordered and sat down, and he told me about a few of the traffic stops he had made.

“How was Ella after breakfast yesterday?” I asked, a little embarrassed to bring up the subject.

He chuckled. “She’s a smart girl. I think she knew something was up. Not that, but she knows there’s something between us.”

Hearing him admit there was something happening sent heatwaves through my body. “Should I stay away?”

He shrugged. “It isn’t like you’re there a lot. It was one time. I told her we were friends.”

I nodded and felt a slight disappointment.

We fell into easy conversation about the coming fall weather and what we planned on doing for the holidays. I loved listening to him talk about his family. I wanted to ask about Ella’s mother but figured that was a conversation for another day. Things were too good between us, even if it was all based on a fake engagement. The fake engagement actually made it easier to relax. There were no expectations from either of us.

“I have to get going so I can pick up Ella,” he announced.

I nodded. “Okay. Maybe on your next day off we can do the sightseeing and shopping you promised,” I teased.

He groaned. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

I reached out and touched his hand. “You don’t have to make anything up to me. I slept in. I would love if you could show me around a little, though. That, I’m holding you to, but I won’t force you to do any shopping.”

We walked to his truck, and before he opened the door, he gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “I wouldn’t mind shopping with you. I think you would make it fun.”

I smiled and climbed inside the truck. It felt so good to be with him. He was easy to talk to. That hard exterior he wore all the time wasn’t quite as tough as it looked. The man was kind, maybe a little arrogant, but a lot sexy. I wanted to spend more time with him, and that was not a good thing.

It scared me to feel so drawn to him. I couldn’t jump into another relationship with a man when I was still dealing with the fallout from my last relationship. Letting myself fall into something with the man sitting next to me wasn’t wise. I knew that.

He pulled in front of my house. I suddenly got a case of the first-date jitters and practically jumped out of the truck. I wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss me or expected me to kiss him.

“Bye,” I said in a high-pitched voice, then slammed the door and practically ran for my front door.

I heard the truck motor rev up and knew he was gone. I felt like a complete moron for running away, but it was the only thing I knew to do.