Gypsy Hearts

by Lisa Mondello

  “Blue suit,” she whispered to herself.

  “I beg your pardon?” Brock’s eyes twinkled with light at her slip.

  “Nothing. You’ve got me intrigued. I don’t see a whole lot of your type come into the studio. And even then Brian snatches them up before I get a chance to say a word.”

  “I gathered that about him. So what do you say?”

  “I say I should have my head examined.” Wasn’t Brian always talking about some shrink he visited? She’d have to remember to get the name. If she was seriously contemplating working with this cowboyand she was-she was going to need some serious help.

  Sighing, she said, “See Brian about booking some studio time in the evening. That’s all I have available. And just so you know, I charge double time for evening work, so I need you to understand that right off the bat.”

  “Understood.”

  “Tell Brian how many songs you’ll be doing and whatever time he says you need to get the job done, tell him to book half. He has a way of broadsiding a person. He’s good at it.”

  “I’ve got a lot of songs. Enough for at least a full CD, maybe more. I figure I might as well get them all down on tracks and give the record company its pick.”

  Nodding, she said, “I hope whoever is bankrolling this project knows what he’s gotten himself into. I don’t want to run out of funds halfway through the session.” He was naive, this man with the sparkling blue eyes and a smile that could force a woman to make an utter fool of herself. She was going to have to watch out.

  “It’s covered. It won’t be a problem.”

  “Great. I’ll see you then.”

  “What about dinner?”

  “Dinner’s not part of this gig. I told you, I have plans.” Dexter would love this. She was sure he’d love Brock Gentry too. There was something about the man, something that had her head turning to just look at him. It wasn’t just that he was handsome with his sunstreaked hair, or how his lopsided smile tilted ever so slightly to give him that boyish charm. He was different than the other cowboys she’d seen come strutting in through these studio doors. Sure, he had the twinkle in his eye, the dream of something big. But what was life without that dream?

  Oh Lord, she was in trouble. Blue suit, blue suit.

  She fought hard not to have the sudden breathlessness she felt show. But she feared Brock Gentry saw it anyway. “Why don’t you leave me a few tapes in the office, kid,” she said, packing up her things. It would do her good not to even look at him. “I’ll listen to them, see where you’re going, and then we can talk again when we get into the studio.”

  She lifted her head and saw the smile of triumph on his face.

  “Thank you,” he said as he tipped his hat. “And just so we’re clear-I’m not a kid.”

  She stuffed her sweater into her bag, not bothering to fold it neatly, and looked at him. “I know,” she said.

  And she headed for the door before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

  Brock sat on the black leather sofa in the control room, twiddling his thumbs as Josie worked around the studio, plugging in lines to the control room panel. He hadn’t been able to get his mind off the woman in the last few days. He’d been so focused on finding Josie Tibbs and then getting her to agree to work with him that he hadn’t thought at all about his reaction to her.

  And boy what a reaction. He’d met pretty women before, sure. There was a certain attraction that had women gravitating to him regardless of the man he was. It was the image, the idea of being with a country singer. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t famous or even if he was any good. None of them seemed to look beyond that to see the man. He was just a face and a name. Someone they could swoon over when he stepped off the stage. They didn’t really care about his music or what he wanted from it, what it meant to him. They just wanted the image. That always left him cold.

  He’d watched Josie earlier as she listened to some of the rough demo tapes they’d made from some live performances back in Steerage Rock, the town he’d lived in his whole life, embarrassed by the crude sound and technical difficulties. But when it was over, Josie just smiled and said, “Let’s get to work.”

  What that meant, he wasn’t quite sure. At any rate, he was eager to get some tracks down and get to singing some of the songs he’d written over the last few years while he’d perfected his craft.

  She was keeping her distance. That much Brock was sure of. Every time he walked into the control room, Josie seemed to move in a different direction. He reasoned he should just stay the heck out of her way. He’d sought her out for a purpose and he had to let her do what she did best. But the woman was like a magnet pulling him to her.

  “I hope you didn’t get too bored,” she said, coming into the sound room.

  “Not at all.”

  She nodded. “We have a break room where clients usually hang out while I do some of the more tedious setup. We even have some arcade games in there to help pass the time.”

  He shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stick around and see how things are done in here.”

  She gave him a quick smile and shrugged. “Okay. Well, if you’re going to be hanging around in here, I’m going to put you to work.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Josie tried to concentrate on her work. But with every move she made, she felt Brock’s piercing blue eyes following her. It shouldn’t have affected her at all, she thought as she dropped the master reel onto the tape player. She’d had attention from men before. In this business, there was always someone with a quick come on and enough sweet charm to put a sensible girl in a love-struck coma.

  But there was something about the way Brock was watching her. There was interest in his eyes as they followed her, an eagerness, anticipation even, as if they were both part of doing something great.

  And he was interested in her. She wasn’t quite sure if that interest only went as far as his admiration for her work with Grant Davies or if it were fueled by something more personal. Josie wasn’t sure which one she wanted more.

  The early part of the session moved by quicker than Josie had anticipated which went a long way toward keeping her attention focused on what she was doing. Laying the music tracks could sometimes be tedious. Unlike her work doing commercials, she always wanted to get the music right. That meant spending the time up front to get a clean, crisp sound and then letting the musicians do their thing. Her job was to make their sound come alive without producing the life out of it.

  Brock was alone in the studio, sitting on a stool in front of the microphone she’d set up. All the musicians had gone through a few songs earlier, laying the basic tracks. Now it was time to add Brock’s vocals. Given the hour of the evening, the rest of the band members had all decided to head home for some sleep rather than sticking around to hear how the vocals blended in with the music. That left Josie alone with Brock, leaving nothing to separate them but the thick glass wall between the control room and the studio.

  “I wrote this one the other day. I hope you like it,” Brock said, the headphones covering his ear.

  It was important to him that she like his music. Why that would make a difference, she wasn’t sure. She’d seen Brian work with musicians before. They all wanted their egos stroked and no one was better at that than Brian. But it wasn’t heartfelt. Brian couldn’t care less as long as the session was paid for in full.

  But it meant something to Brock. As he looked at her from the other room, she could see it in his eyes.

  Josie cued the tape and pushed the record button. The sound of his guitar came over the speakers. Their eyes locked. With his hand holding one side of the headphones, Brock began to sing.

  She loved his deep, smooth voice. The sound of his words as he sang plucked at her heartstrings as if he were strumming the steel strings of his guitar. Poetic and sincere. She couldn’t help but wonder about the woman the song was so obviously written about. It was a song of new friendship, new love
that seemed to have always been.

  So deep into the song, Josie hadn’t been paying attention to the meters at all. She had no clue if any of the levels had peaked. And when the song had ended and the music died down, she was startled when Brock pulled off the headphones and just smiled at her.

  “You liked it, didn’t you?” He didn’t need to question that she had indeed loved the song. She knew it was written all over her face. It was then she realized she was still staring at him like an idiot.

  Shaking off the feeling, she dragged her gaze away to the control panel. Her hands were trembling as she hit the buttons to rewind the tape and then punched the play button.

  “Why don’t we listen to how it sounds in here?” she said. This time she’d pay more attention to what she was doing instead of to the man who was driving her insane.

  Blue suit. Blue suit.

  Brock pulled a chair from the desk and sat next to her, listening to the song replay. Once again, she was drawn into it.

  “It’s beautiful. You must have loved her very much,” Josie whispered. Or still do, she thought with a pang of envy.

  He turned to her, his deep blue eyes filled with emotion and she knew he did. But he didn’t confirm her suspicion. He swallowed and said, “I can do this a little better.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “You don’t?”

  She shrugged slightly. No one was watching them. She almost wished the studio players were still in the game room playing with a pinball machine instead of home in their beds. It was just the two of them now, and the silence of the studio was wrapping around them in a way that made her wonder if it was such a good idea to agree to work with Brock Gentry.

  “Sometimes too many takes pulls the life and emotion out of a song. Sometimes that first take is the best simply because it’s raw, powerful with true feeling.”

  “I think it’s missing something. Something didn’t come through.”

  She simply nodded. “Then let’s do it again.”

  It took another hour or so to lay the rest of the voice tracks. When Josie finally glanced at the clock, she wasn’t surprised. 3:15 A.M. She’d been in the studio later than that before, sometimes until the early hours of the morning, leaving just in time to see the sun rise. But they’d made good time tonight. She was pleased with what they had accomplished and she could tell Brock was too.

  “You’ll have a good demo CD to shop around when this is done,” she said, punching the stop button, then the rewind. “I’ll have some rough CD’s ready for you before you come in for tomorrow’s session. We can make any changes tomorrow night.”

  “Wonderful.” Brock just stared at her. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the demo.

  He followed her into the studio and began wrapping cords.

  Startled, she said, “You don’t have to do that. I can take care of all this.”

  “We’ll get it done in half the time if we do it together.” He finished wrapping a cord while she unhooked the microphone and brought it to the supply cabinet.

  Her hands stopped mid-motion closing the door when he came over and leaned against the cabinet. “What is it?” she asked.

  He bit his bottom lip. “Come with me.”

  Josie blinked. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

  “On the road. It’ll be loads of fun.”

  She laughed, couldn’t help herself. “I don’t think so.”

  He gently gripped her by her upper arms, his face in a wide smile that made her heart stop.

  “I need you, Josie. You’re incredible. I’ve got some gigs lined up and some important people are coming out to see us. I don’t want some part-time sound guy who doesn’t know what I’m about doing my sound for me. That was fine when all I was doing was playing at the dance hall back in Steerage Rock. But this is important.”

  Still feeling the sensation of his hands on her, she sighed softly. Brock Gentry wasn’t just some slick musician. He had the kind of talent that didn’t come from years of practice or paying dues. It was just part of him. He was that good. She knew how important it was to get exposure and how annoying technical mistakes on the road, no matter how little, could make or break what might ultimately turn into a record contract.

  She also knew she wasn’t going to go on the road again. Not ever.

  Blue suit. Blue suit, she muttered to herself for a full thirty seconds as she played tug of war with the idea in her head.

  “No, thank you. I’m done with the road.” Josie moved to go past him, to just get some distance because somewhere deep down she recognized something dangerous building inside her. She wanted to go with Brock. The problem was she couldn’t identify exactly why.

  Was it because on some level she longed to be in that atmosphere again, among people who shared her love of music? Or was it the man himself that drew her toward packing her bags and leaving again? Either way, it was going to derail a path she’d been determined to stay on for the better part of four years.

  Brock shifted, just enough to move closer to her, making it difficult for her to make a quick getaway. Her breath hitched as the scent of him drifted to her. He ran his hand gently up her arm, but didn’t say anything.

  He was completely male in all the ways she hadn’t wanted to see, Josie realized. His musky cologne blended in with the scent of his skin, not overpowering it, but enhancing it. They were close enough so that she could smell the coffee on his breath and feel the heat of his body even though they weren’t touching.

  She’d lied to herself big time, thinking this was just another session and that Brock was just another musician.

  “We’re good together. I can feel it,” he whispered after a moment.

  She felt it too, although she’d rather chew her tongue off than admit it.

  “What are you afraid of?” he asked, tilting her chin up with his fingers.

  She wanted to laugh. There was plenty to be afraid of, not the least of which was Brock Gentry.

  He’s just a kid, she reminded herself. He doesn’t know what’s ahead of him on this road. He was looking at her all starry-eyed as if she was his one-way ticket to success.

  She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. Yeah, she’d been lying to herself. Brock may be a few years younger than her, but he was a man, strong and determined, with a wild fire that right at that moment was sparking a flame so strong in her she could hardly breathe.

  She pulled away and took a step aside.

  “Look, I’ve been on the road before. It’s fun for a while, you see new places, meet new people. But before long it all looks the same. You don’t remember what city you’re in or even what day of the week it is.”

  “It’s Tuesday,” he said with a smirk. “I can keep track of the days for you.”

  She shook her head when she realized he wasn’t going to give up easily.

  “I’m not looking for what you’re asking,” she said resolutely.

  “You think you’ve seen it all. Is that it?”

  “I’ve seen enough.”

  “You’ve never been on the road with me.”

  Then she laughed. What was this guy all about? “I don’t need to.”

  She waved her hand toward him and started to pace, if only just to get a few more feet away from Brock and clear her head.

  “I’ve seen a hundred bright-eyed country boys like you walk through that door this year alone. You’re too green to know what’s ahead of you and believe me that’s okay. Ignorance is bliss in this business.”

  “What made you so cynical? Was it Grant Davies?”

  Her insides fell. Her relationship with Grant had been discrete. He’d wanted it that way at first. Only those people in their close circle knew they’d been in love. She’d been in love, she reminded herself.

  Sighing, she propped herself on the edge of the stool sitting next to the empty mike stand and bit her lip. “I’m no gypsy, Brock. I found that out a long time ago. I know going on the road would
be fun. For a while, that is. But after a short time, it’ll be just another place that’s too far from home. I’m not your girl.”

  “I’m not looking for you to be anything more than my sound engineer.”

  Now he was the one lying. What’s more, he knew she knew and still, Brock didn’t do anything at all to hide that fact.

  “I can’t commit to anything. Going on the road means leaving here and forgetting the plans I’ve been making.”

  “I’d like to hear about those plans. Maybe we can get out of here and find an all night diner, grab some breakfast.”

  She laughed, covering her face with both hands. “First dinner, now breakfast? You do move quickly, cowboy.”

  “Hesitate too long and you lose the moment.” Brock stared at her for a lingering moment. “It’s just some coffee, maybe steak and eggs to go with it or a bagel. You like bagels, don’t you? It can’t hurt. Besides, if you’re so wed to the plans you’ve made, there isn’t a thing I can say to you over breakfast to talk you out of them.”

  “I have to go home. Dexter’s been alone for too long.”

  “Dexter?”

  She wanted to avoid the discussion about how obviously pathetic her life seemed. Josie had to admit she’d loved every moment working on Brock’s demo tape. It’d been a while since she’d been able to sink her teeth into anything other than fluff radio spots, Now that she’d stretched her arms and legs into a new place, she knew it was going to be hard to curl them back into her little box.

  “He’s my cat. He’s old and ornery, but the love of my life. And don’t you say anything smart about it,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  He laughed, something rich and deep and … it did things to her. Darn, if her heart didn’t flutter just a little.

  “I wouldn’t dare. Besides, I like animals. Had an ornery old farm dog myself. I’ve lived my whole life on a ranch in Steerage Rock. And as much as I’m sure Dexter’s been missing you, I know he’ll survive another hour or two while we share a bagel.”

  Josie was being ridiculous. She’d planned on being at the studio the whole night. Using Dexter as an excuse to flee from Brock Gentry was taking the coward’s way out. “Who said anything about sharing?”