“Sorry we’re late,” Jesse said, breezing into the studio, hands full of instruments, as always, and cheeks pink from the cold. “Thanks to the rain, traffic was awful today.” Hair in the usual ponytail, she slicked off her coat to reveal a navy Predators sweatshirt and tossed the heavy jacket onto the black leather sofa. “Today is ‘Wild Horses,’ right?”

No mention of the night before.

“Right,” Ash said, keeping his disappointment to himself. “‘Wild Horses.’ Mason is also stuck in traffic, but we can start without him.”

Jesse rubbed her hands together. “Good. I’m excited for this one.”

“I’ll go get set up,” Dana said. “Morning, Ash.”

The bass player was gone before he could respond.

“So,” Jesse said once they were alone.

Expecting a more personal greeting, Ash rocked on his heels. “So?”

“We’re working on the sixth song today. That means we have half an album. Halfway there in a month is good, right?”

Frustrated, he crossed his arms and dug deep for patience. “Yeah, we’re actually ahead of schedule. About last night—”

“Nope.” She held up a hand. “Not at work. At work, we work.”

That left the obvious question. “And when we’re not at work?”

She flashed a smile that stole his breath. “Then we can do non-work things.” Ash took a step forward, and Jesse stepped back. “Cameras. They’re always watching, remember?”

Why did he have to tell her about the damn cameras?

“No one ever really looks at those tapes.”

Slipping away, she lifted her guitar case onto the couch and clicked open the locks. “Can’t take that chance.”

“Jesse—”

“Oh, I need a favor,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “I know you do the volunteer thing Saturday mornings, but how about the afternoon?”

Ash might have considered skipping one Saturday morning to do whatever Jesse wanted, but the kids were working hard on their Christmas song performances, and they only had two weeks until the show.

“I can’t get free until after one. What do you need?”

Eyes bright, she said, “I got an apartment. It’s a duplex, really, and small, but it’s cute and not far from town.” Practically floating, she whisked the guitar from its case and headed for the hall.

“Where?” he asked, following behind her. “Last week you hadn’t found anything you liked.”

“In Donelson. It’s a cute little red brick house that’s been split into two apartments.” Pausing at the control room door, she called, “Hey, Aiden.”

“Morning, beautiful,” the engineer replied.

“It’s nothing fancy,” Jesse continued, “but it has new floors and paint, plenty of parking in the back, and a good-sized closet to hold all of my stuff.” Sweeping into the booth where Reggie and Dana were setting up, she added, “I haven’t had my own place without roommates in like four years, so I’m a little excited.”

He couldn’t blame her for that. “Do you want me to come see it?”

“Not exactly.” Jesse cut a daunting glare Reggie’s way. “Someone has a recital to attend for his twins, so I need you to help me move.”

“I can’t miss it,” the drummer defended. “They’ve been working on these dances for months.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m just teasing.” Jesse turned her attention back to Ash. “So can you help me?”

Not something he wanted to do on a blustery November day, but they both knew his answer. “Two questions. Are there stairs? And how much coffee have you had today?”

“No stairs and no coffee.” She flashed the heart-stopping grin again. “I’m just happy.”

And that made Ash happy. “Okay, I’ll help.” Recalling what they’d moved out of Dimitri’s house, he asked, “Do you have furniture?”

“Yeah, it’s been in storage forever.” Jesse looked down to tune her guitar. “Thankfully, it won’t take much to fill this little place so the few pieces I have will work.”

Before he could ask what she considered a few pieces, Aiden’s voice came over the intercom. “Mason is here.”

Ash nodded in acknowledgment before bending to whisper in Jesse’s ear. “You look beautiful today.”

A blush rolled up her cheeks as she continued tuning. “Thank you.”

Content with the progress made, he stood and headed for the door. “Everybody ready to work?”

“Yes, sir,” the musicians said in unison.

“Count me in, too.” Mason shuffled into the room. “I still say we should have taken today off,” he grumbled, clearly hung over.

“No rest for the wicked,” the producer reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

As the guitarist found his chair, Ash made his way out of the booth and around to the control room.

“You look more chipper than usual,” Aiden said as Ash took a seat. “Anything to do with that little whisper session in there?”

Ash sobered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The engineer shook his head. “You two were the talk of the party until the little superhero bailed. I expected things to be tense today, but I guess not.”

Maintaining a tight grip on his temper, Ash said, “I thought you were above gossip, D’Angelo.”

“People talk, man. You can’t look at a woman the way you look at Jesse and think folks won’t notice.”

Shit. That was exactly what Jesse wanted to avoid. He’d need to be more careful going forward. “Those folks need to mind their own business. Jesse and I are old friends. Since when is that newsworthy?”

“To be honest, nobody cares about you, but Jesse has been giving them something to talk about for a while now.” When Ash cut him a menacing look, Aiden raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just the messenger, bro. Thought you’d want to know that people are talking.”

Jaw tight, Ash pressed the intercom button on the board. “Be ready to cut in five.” He turned back to his engineer. “If I hear of any rumors about Jesse coming out of these sessions, I will make sure the ones responsible pay for their loose tongues.”

Aiden sat up straighter and rolled up to the controls. “Message received, boss. Loud and clear.”

Three hours into the day, the group broke for lunch, happy with the progress they’d made. Though “Save Yourself” was the front-runner for debut single, “Wild Horses” was one Jesse definitely wanted sent to radio. The up-tempo anthem for female empowerment could be a signature song, and she would be happy to perform the tune for as long as fans wanted to hear it. With any luck, that would be for the next three to four decades.

“So that’s meatball on white with provolone for you,” Dana said to Jesse while reading from her phone. “And a club with everything but onion for you?” she asked Mason.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “And extra mayo.”

Dana typed in the note. “All right. Reggie and I will be back with the food shortly.”

Ash had excused himself to make a phone call, and Aiden had gone out for his own food, so the bass player’s exit left Jesse and Mason alone in the lounge. She hadn’t spent much time with the studio musician, and though Jesse would love to hear stories about the amazing albums he’d played on, she’d never found a rapport with the man that made asking for details feel right. Since Mason had never sought her out for conversation either, Jesse assumed they’d pass the time staring at their respective phones.

Her assumption had been wrong.

“You’ve got some songwriting chops,” Mason said, lounging in the corner of the leather sofa with an ankle draped across a knee. “I considered not taking this gig, but you aren’t as bad as they say.”

Dazed and a bit insulted by the remark, she replied, “Thanks, I guess?”

The affront in her tone didn’t faze him. “So is Ash the reason you dumped Ryan Dimitri?”

Now he’d really stunned her. “Excuse me?”

“Not that I blame you,” Mason continued, seemingly having a conversation by himself. “How long were you with Dimitri? A year?”

“Fourteen months,” Jesse corrected, not sure why she’d even answered.

“Huh. That’s longer than I thought.”

She’d assumed that not only did Mason Dexter not know who she was before joining this project, but that he also didn’t know or care anything about her life. Why would he? Jesse was a little-known artist who’d had moderate if short-lived success as one half of a female duo. Nothing she’d accomplished should have even registered with Mason.

“Do you know Ryan?” she asked, certain this was the only way he’d know anything about their relationship.

Mason nodded. “We used to run in the same circles back when he was first starting out. He’s shit with women, but he knows music, and he knows how to schmooze. I’d have thought he’d have gotten you further than he did.”

Jesse blinked, feeling as if she’d been caught in an ambush. Had this man really just given Ryan credit for her career? Or was it blame for her lack of one?

“Not that this is any of your business, but I wasn’t with Ryan in order to get somewhere. And what I’ve accomplished, I’ve done on my own.”

“Eh,” he grunted, unmoved. “We all get a little help somewhere. There’s no shame in it.” Rubbing his chin, Mason pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “Shifting from Dimitri to Shepherd is a smart move. Go where the gettin’s good, and all that. I don’t blame you one bit.”

How generous of him.

“I didn’t shift from Ryan to Ash.”

“I was trashed last night, and even I could see you two have more than a working relationship going on.” Thin lips curled into a creepy grin. “By the way, that sexy getup was nice. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Her control snapped, and Jesse bolted off the couch. “My personal life is none of your business.”

“If you don’t want folks to know you’re sleeping with him, don’t crawl all over him during a party in front of half the industry.”

“I wasn’t crawling all over anyone,” she defended, growing more annoyed that she even bothered to argue with him. “Forget it. You know what? Why don’t you take your snide remarks and sexist advice and call it a day. In fact, consider yourself off this project.”

Mason shook his head. “You don’t have that kind of power, little lady.”

“The hell I don’t. This is my album, and I want you gone. And don’t worry. We’ll re-cut your parts. I don’t want a single note from you on anything I create.”

The jackass had the nerve to laugh. Freaking laugh.

“You’re cute when you’re angry, but maybe you forgot who you’re talking to. No matter how many players you get on your knees and blow, I’ll still be a bigger name in this town than you’ll ever be. And I sure as hell ain’t stepping off a project because some upstart little girl tells me to.”

“Wrong.” Jesse spun to find Ash hovering in the doorway, hands fisted at his sides and jaw clenched. “Get your shit and get out.”

Taking his time, Mason uncurled off the sofa. “You serious?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking?” Ash asked, his tone hard and level. As the guitarist stepped past Jesse, Ash said, “Apologize.”

Mason stopped. “What?”

Crossing his arms, Ash leaned against the doorframe as if this were a casual conversation. As if he wasn’t coiled and ready to rip the man apart.

“I said apologize to the lady.”

“You can’t be—”

“Don’t make me repeat it again.”

Looking as if he’d swallowed a lemon, Mason turned her way and with pinched lips mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t mean the words, but Jesse didn’t care. The jerk had probably never uttered an apology in his entitled life and watching him bow to Ash’s demand was the best thing she’d seen in months. Maybe years. To show who truly had the power here, Jesse didn’t offer a response, nor did she cower as he loomed a hair closer. It would be a cold day in hell before she gave this asshole the satisfaction.

In tense silence, Mason crossed to the doorway where Ash stepped aside to let him pass.

“Are you okay?” he asked once they were alone.

Jesse nodded. “I’m pretty good, actually. That was impressive.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall as Mason returned from the studio where he’d left his guitar. “You’ll be hearing from my manager.”

“Tell him to call Shooting Stars. They’ll settle on what you’re owed.”

Even concern for how Clay Benedict would react to this news couldn’t lower Jesse’s spirits. She’d stood up to a bully, and if that resulted in a conversation with her label head, so be it. The fact was, if she were a man, none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t be the center of false rumors, and she sure as heck wouldn’t be accused of blowing her way to the top.

“Did you hear what he said to me?”

Ash shook his head. “Nothing before the get-on-your-knees part.” Running a hand through his hair, he added, “It’s taking all I have not to go kick the shit out of him.”

She’d prefer to do that for herself. “Apparently, he knows Ryan and thinks I shifted—his word—from him to you because Ryan hadn’t done enough to advance my career. He assumes that sleeping with you will get me further.”

“Does this have to do with the party last night?”

“I suppose so. He said that even drunk, he could tell there’s something between us.”

“Dammit,” Ash muttered, smacking the wall. “I’m sorry. Aiden said something similar this morning. I should have been more discreet.”

This wasn’t their fault, and Jesse was tired of trying to win this game. People were going to say any dang thing they wanted, and what she did or didn’t do played no part in it. Enough was enough.

“Screw that. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make music on my own terms, and I’ve never taken a shortcut through someone’s bed to do it. If that makes me difficult or shallow or whatever they want to call me next, then that’s just too bad.”

Full lips curved into a smile as Ash pulled her into his arms. “That’s the Jesse I know and love.”

“Yes,” she said, sliding a hand into his hair. “Yes, it is.” Jesse rubbed her thumb over his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now and to hell with the cameras.”

“To hell with the cameras.”

Lifting her off her feet, Ash took her mouth with his, and the moment their lips touched, Jesse opened for him. Arms around his neck, she channeled the adrenaline rush into the kiss as warm hands slid beneath her sweatshirt to splay across the small of her back. Heat coursed through her limbs and turned her brain to mush. They were still kissing when Dana and Reggie returned with lunch.

“Whoa,” said Dana. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Looks like we’re interrupting just in time,” added Reggie with a chuckle. “Y’all need to get a room but not this one. No telling what’s already been done on those couches.”

Dana groaned. “That’s nasty.”

It really was, and Jesse would be avoiding the sofas going forward.

“Thanks for the disturbing image,” Ash said as he lowered Jesse to stand on her own. “I should have closed the door.”

“Too late now.” Dana held up the bag of food. “Sandwiches are here. Where’s Mason?”

Jesse and Ash exchanged a look before he said, “Mason won’t be working with us anymore. For now, I’ll handle the lead guitar parts until we find a replacement.”

Reggie withdrew his wallet and handed Dana some cash. “You nailed it.”

“Nailed what?” Jesse said.

“We had a bet on how long Mason would last before he pissed someone off enough to kick him out.” Dana stuffed the money into her pants pocket. “I called this week, and Reggie took the end of the month.”

Until today, Jesse had overlooked Mason’s annoying habits—like talking over her, ignoring her input on the lead parts, and leaving before anyone else—because he was the prized professional she was so lucky to have on her album. Her friends had not been so blind, and she wished she’d grown a backbone sooner.

“Then we’re all good with the change?” Ash asked, withholding comment on the bet.

“Yep,” Dana said.

“I’m good,” replied Reggie.

He looked to Jesse, and she said, “You know I’m happy.”

“Good.” She took the bag of food. “Then let’s eat.”

After a brief hesitation while they all glanced to the couches, Ash added, “Someplace else.”

All agreed, and the group headed for cleaner surroundings.