Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  “Piper.” Hannah ducked her head into the car. “Do you wanna wait in his car?”

  Piper scrambled out the door and practically skipped to the Camaro.

  Meanwhile, the man had braced open both vehicles’ hoods and was already hooking up the jumper cables. Piper stopped at the side of the car and caught Hannah’s eye.

  “OH MY GOD,” Piper mouthed, pointing at Ana’s uncle.

  Hannah shook her head and flattened her mouth. It caught his attention and he glanced back at Piper, who jumped into the car and closed the door.

  “Uh…” Hannah folded her arms across her chest, more to give her hands something to do than to help against the cold. “Should I try starting it?”

  Obviously, it was too soon for that. She knew it. But she’d asked anyway and immediately felt like an idiot.

  “Let’s give it a few minutes,” he said, his voice smooth and nonjudgmental. “I’m Johnny, by the way,” he introduced, holding out a hand. She glanced at his leather work gloves with stains and tears and ripped seams before grasping it with her pink, fuzzy mitten.

  “Hannah,” she said. “Piper isn’t my daughter,” she felt the need to correct. Not because she was embarrassed, but because she didn’t feel she qualified for that kind of an honor. But that would be a harder issue to address to a veritable stranger. “She’s my half sister. I’m her—” She swallowed hard, her personal information fighting to stay inside. “I’m her guardian,” she finished, feeling for the first time how woefully inadequate that word was.

  Something flickered in his dark eyes and his frown partially relaxed. “I’m in the same sort of situation with my little brother.” He crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring her posture, and then he cracked a smile. “It’s actually why I’m here. He’s a senior but got himself into just enough trouble so he’s required to work functions for extra credit.” He licked his lips and tilted his head slightly. “Which of course means I have to be here too.”

  Hannah laughed lightly, getting it completely. “And where is he now?” she asked, even though she was pretty sure she could guess.

  He pursed his lips. “He had important plans with his friends. So I offered to finish cleaning the kitchen.”

  “You offered?” She arched a single eyebrow.

  He sniffed a laugh. “If I call it that, it doesn’t feel so much like I’m being taken advantage of.”

  She laughed softly and he smiled at her reaction.

  “How long have you been doing the guardian gig?” he asked with a chin lift.

  “Oh man, two years almost.” Her gaze drifted to the asphalt and she shook her head. “It’s weird because it feels longer than that while also feeling like it just happened yesterday.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  She glanced back up to see his face had taken on a softer expression. “I’ve had Shawn since he was five. He turns eighteen next month. But sometimes it’s so hard not to see him as that little five-year-old boy.”

  And for the second time that day, they shared a moment.

  Hannah looked over his shoulder at where Piper sat in the warm car. She wondered if it would be the same for her. If, no matter how much of a woman Piper grew into, she’d always see her as a child. Would she have difficulty treating her like the adult she was bound to become?

  Would she default to treating her the way she’d been taught?

  Shit.

  She made a mental note to ask her therapist about that on Friday.

  “Go ahead and see if it fires,” Johnny instructed.

  Hannah nodded and quickly slid into the car, not bothering to close the door or even sit fully in the seat. She inserted the key and sent up a wordless prayer.

  It started.

  Johnny smiled and nodded with satisfaction. He unhooked the cables and closed her hood. Hannah turned the heater on in the car and started the seat warmers. She climbed back out of the car just as Johnny was closing the hood of the Camaro.

  He turned toward her. “Probably drive it around for a little while before parking it again. It may have just been the cold.”

  Hannah waggled her eyebrows. “Or it was the preteen who plugged her laptop into the car charger for the duration of the basketball game.”

  He chuckled. “That wouldn’t help.”

  “Thank you, Johnny,” she said, stressing the sincerity in her voice. She waved at Piper to return to their car. “You really saved us.”

  His eyes flashed that confused expression again. “Happy to help.” He stopped before using her name and closed his mouth, finishing with a nod. “I’ll probably see you around.”

  “Yeah.” Hannah waved, feeling a little sad their interaction was over. But that was replaced with relief when she got into her warm car.

  She and Piper buckled their seat belts and silently watched Johnny back away and drive off with a final wave.

  “He’s so hot,” Piper finally said.

  “Piper!”

  “And his car is clean,” she continued, facing her sister. “Like, so clean. And it smells like aftershave and leather.”

  “How do you know what aftershave smells like?” Hannah narrowed her eyes.

  “I’m guessing.” Piper took a deep breath and melted into her seat. “Please tell me he asked you out.”

  Hannah put the car in gear. “He did not.”

  Which she was fine with. Because she would have had to turn him down anyway. Because of all the reasons. This way, she would feel comfortable talking to him again in the future.

  And that idea made her feel weirdly hopeful.

  Did she want to talk to Johnny again?

  Yes.

  Absolutely.

  For a lot of reasons but mostly because it was nice to chat with someone who knew a little of what she was going through. It had been an unexpected and welcome connection. Something she hadn’t experienced with another adult in longer than she could remember.

  Piper grunted her dissatisfaction with the statement. “Where are we going?” she asked when she realized Hannah was driving them the opposite way from home.

  “Let’s listen to Misterwives’ new album and get burgers at Flame Trees.”

  It was in a little suburb just outside Chicago where Piper’s favorite burger place happened to be. And they needed to drive the car for a while anyway. Or so she’d been told.

  “Yes!” Piper declared excitedly.

  Hannah smiled, but a small part of her heart wondered when it would be that Piper no longer got excited about simple things like long car rides and cheeseburgers.

  Hopefully it would be a long while.

  JOHNNY

  Sunday.

  A day of rest.

  A holy day to some.

  He stood at the heart of his own personal church and felt the peace of a dream realized wash over him.

  XY Records was a two-floor brick structure set between a row of townhouses and a row of walk-up apartments in Avondale.

  On its outside it was nearly invisible, except for those who knew where to look. No signage, a single door at the front that led to the street. Around back was another entrance used for the other half of the studio and clients who wanted a more private entrance.

  It technically had two recording studios.

  One large studio with three separate performance spaces and the spacious control room—which had all the bells and whistles, not to mention a customized 48-channel Neotek Elite console with Neve Flying Faders automation.

  Studio X was built for larger groups. It was equipped with its own espresso bar, lounge, bathrooms, and private entrance. If a client was into those things.

  The second studio, Studio Y, was smaller but still large for what it offered. It had an 800-square-foot live room and a 300-square-foot isolation room. The live room also had thirty-foot ceilings, which made for some unique sound capture.

  That’s where Johnny was at the moment.

  In the small control room of Studio Y, watching Shawn go to town on the dru
m kit in the live room.

  The live room of Studio Y had less of a polished look than Studio X.

  In fact, that’s how the studios got their nicknames.

  While the founder and original owner, Abel Thomas, was building it from the ground up, they left the original brick exposed and untreated in the smaller live room just to see what the sound would be like. And it sounded great, so they kept it. But it had started with the question of “Why not?”

  The walls gave off a bright reverb, which was great for acoustic.

  The thirty-foot ceilings had large thick windows at the very top, where sunlight streamed into the otherwise dark room, giving a cathedral-like feel.

  Which was probably why Johnny thought of it as a holy place for himself.

  In a time when professionally recorded music was on its way out, it had taken a huge act of faith for him to follow through on his dream. Everyone in the industry told him it was a dying business. And in most cases, they were right.

  But Johnny had worked at XY long enough to see how it kept its momentum. And how it could continue to be relevant in the modern world of music.

  The building was almost invisible. Just another unremarkable brick structure in a long row of brick buildings.

  An unmarked building in a billboard world.

  A secret sanctuary.

  And now it was all his.

  After years of saving and negotiating and dreaming too much, he owned it.

  Well, the bank owned it. But his name was on the loan. And it was his credit that had gotten him that loan.

  Credit that he had fought for.

  “Kid’s got the rhythm,” Johnny’s head engineer, Justin, said from the doorway of the small control room.

  Johnny nodded in agreement. It was true. Shawn had a musical gift he’d never seen in someone so young. It was as if he played with the experience and confidence of a longtime veteran.

  “Must run in the blood,” Justin joked.

  “Maybe,” Johnny replied with a half smile.

  But he knew, Shawn had passed him in talent years ago.

  Not only that, Shawn had the passion and personality of the traveling musician.

  Eventually.

  Presumably after he graduated from high school.

  Johnny sent up a silent prayer that Shawn would make it the last few months without dropping out or getting kicked out. They were almost there.

  Shawn cleared his throat and Johnny glanced out the control window to the floor below. The younger man was now positioned on the stool with his guitar on his lap.

  “We ready?” Johnny asked, holding down the intercom button so Shawn could hear him in the live room.

  Shawn’s eyes met his through the glass and he nodded seriously.

  Johnny flipped a few switches and Shawn placed the headphones over his ears.

  Yeah, his younger brother had a gift.

  Even though both of them had been blessed with musical talents, Shawn’s artistic prowess showed through in songs he wrote himself. Before a single word was sung, the emotion in him could be heard in how he had weaved his chords together.

  Johnny had never subscribed to the idea that young hearts couldn’t experience big love. Maybe it felt even bigger to them somehow because their inhibitions were all out of whack.

  And Shawn’s songs always made him feel things.

  Things he remembered feeling once.

  Chapter Three

  Mannequin

  HANNAH

  “Did you hear about Hannah and TJ?”

  Hannah’s eyelids fluttered as she filled her cup of coffee in the break room.

  The words had been whispered around the corner from the coffee kiosk. The speaker couldn’t see her.

  “Yes,” came the hushed and eager response. “How have we not talked about this yet?”

  Hannah rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.

  It was not the first time she’d been talked about behind her back.

  Hell, it wasn’t even the first time she’d walked in on people talking about her in this room. But still, her ears strained for the details of the newest rumor. Maybe it would have some inspiration to it this time. Something she could use to play with, like a cat with the tiny soft bodies of inexperienced mice.

  Was that too mean?

  “I can’t believe she slept with TJ. He’s barely divorced!”

  “I can’t believe TJ would even go near her. I wonder how it even happened.”

  “If I were TJ, I’d be afraid of catching something, you know?”

  The last statement was followed by cackles.

  Hannah laughed, too, because they weren’t wrong. They just didn’t know it.

  The cackles ceased, followed by mutual shushing.

  The mice sensed her presence.

  But it was too little too late.

  Hannah picked up her mug—Piper had gotten two for her on their adoptiversary so she could leave one at home and bring one to work. It was black and said “I’m a fucking professional.” She curved around the corner and leaned a shoulder against the wall.

  “Hey, ladies,” she said, feeling the old purr of cattiness easily climb back into her voice and eyes. But unlike the old days, Hannah wasn’t about to make anyone cry.

  But what was wrong with a little play?

  Tamara and Amy were both pretty, petty, and cliquey. They laughed behind people’s backs and thought that they were the coolest shit around.

  But they worked in the same place she did. So they couldn’t be that cool.

  It was actually kind of sad. When they were apart, they acted like decent human beings. It was like their influence on one other brought out the worst.

  Most of it was performance. A show.

  And Hannah would know.

  She’d been the ringmaster in the bitch circus for most of her life.

  These two weren’t even sideshow worthy.

  They were clowns.

  She held her mug so the text was visible to both women. Then she smirked and slowly lifted the mug to her lips for a torturously gradual sip.

  “Hey, Hannah.”

  “Hi, Hannah.”

  Both of them murmured simultaneously, averting their eyes.

  Because it was always obvious when the alpha bitch had entered the room.

  “Oh, don’t stop on my account.” Hannah blinked round eyes. “What happened? Did I seduce TJ? Did he try to stop me? Are we having an affair? Is he pregnant yet?” Her voice took on the characteristics of the ladies’ previous conversation as Hannah added her own theories. She leaned toward them eagerly. “Will I have to marry him? You think there’ll be a shotgun involved?”

  By now, both women’s faces were red and their mouths had dropped open like gasping fish.

  Hannah chuckled darkly and again sipped her coffee.

  At a table near the back sat Courtney.

  Hannah only knew her name because she’d heard Tamara hiss at her to get out of her way more than once.

  Courtney had a small build and dainty features. She wore soft, romantic colors and floated around like a fairy. Her cubicle was sandwiched between Hannah’s and TJ’s.

  She was also painfully shy.

  Hannah noticed Courtney’s discomfort when she’d been talking about TJ.

  Which was…informative.

  Hannah checked her watch and whistled. “I better get going if I’m going to make it to my next illicit affair—oh, I mean, my next call. See you guys later.” She wiggled her fingers and strode from the break room.

  So dumb.

  Had that been mean?

  Hannah sat down at her small “desk” in her cubicle and found it hard to care.

  “All I can do is all I can do,” she muttered to herself.

  It had become her personal mantra over the past year and a half.

  She couldn’t do more than she was capable of; that was where she got overwhelmed, overworked, and oversaturated. Which led to burning out and reaching for a vice. Any one wou
ld do. Booze, pills, coke, sex, fast cars, name it. She had a weakness for it.

  But if she reminded herself that she was doing all she could do, and nothing more or less, it helped.

  It was a comfort and a reminder that she was human.

  Some days were going to be harder than others. Not every moment was going to be her next best moment. But maybe the one after that.

  JOHNNY

  “Just don’t call him Lord Business when he’s here,” Johnny said with a sigh.

  Nikki snapped her gum and forced a smile.

  That wasn’t very reassuring.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Justin asked for the third time that meeting.

  Johnny nodded slowly and emphatically.

  “Yes. I know that once Sunshine gets a look at our setup, he’ll make his own decision despite whatever his manager says.” Johnny pursed his lips. “I know guys like him. He’ll want the freedom and professional quality we provide.”

  As if on cue, a fart ripped loudly from the end of the table. Snickers followed.

  “Thank you, Chase. Get it all out now.” Johnny shook his head, not as annoyed as he was putting on.

  “Any questions?” Johnny asked, looking around at his staff.

  They weren’t a huge production and they weren’t going to win any Grammys, but they were damn fine people and he was excited about their futures together.

  Nikki, his building manager, staff engineer, and “front of house” person raised her hand. “Monica Reeves didn’t confirm with me for tomorrow.”

  “That’s okay, I’ll call her,” Johnny replied, making a note on his phone.

  “We start in with String Prose tomorrow,” Justin said. “Chase and I just have a few things to finish up today, but otherwise it should be a one and done.”

  “Are they going to mix here?” Johnny asked.

  Justin glanced at Chase, who nodded.

  “Cool. Sounds good.”

  The staff meeting dismissed and Johnny headed to Studio Y to make sure it was all ready to go.

  It was one thing to record albums for indie bands in town. That was fifty percent of his revenue. The other fifty percent was revenue from video dubs and advertisement agencies.