“I’m so sorry,” Whitney said, putting her bag down and heading back into the kitchen to gather paper towels.  She felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment as JC headed over to help her. 

“Don’t worry about it.  It was nice of you to bring coffee in the first place,” he put his hand out to take some of the towels from her and leaned down to help her clean. 

 “I didn’t realize you had company.  I can come back later or work downstairs,” she offered as she stood up.

He shook his head, “Don’t be ridiculous, you’re always a welcome interruption.”  He chuckled as he looked over at Bianca, “She and I stayed out late and then she decided she wanted to go for a swim...in her clothes.  Now, what’s on the agenda for today?”

She smiled.  “So, I had a chance to talk to Charles,” she watched as his eyes lit up.  “The band is definitely interested in hearing what you have and seeing if they can collaborate with you on a potential single.”

JC grinned widely, “Whitney, this is incredible!”  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders to give her a tight hug.  “Thank you so much.  I owe you big-time.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she shook her head. 

“Babe,” Bianca called out to him.  “What’s so exciting?”

“Whitney has convinced Lady A to give me a shot at working on a song with them,” he smiled.

Bianca raised her sunglasses, “How nice of her.”

He ignored Bianca’s response.  “How soon can I meet with them?”

“Well, the rest of the group is in Nashville now, but Charlie is in town for another night.  I could setup a meeting for tomorrow.  Would that be enough time for you?”

“It’ll have to be,” he clasped his hands together.  “I’m going to need your help, though.”

**

Bianca had said goodbye and headed out.  In typical form, she pulled out of the driveway in her car still only in her lingerie.  Anything for a paparazzi shot.  JC and Whitney had spent all afternoon in his home-studio in the basement while he neurotically played through all of Lady A’s previous albums and asked her opinion as he played through random snippets of projects he had been working on. 

“You know their sound.  Does anything I have stick out to you?”  The tone of his voice hinted to the stress he was pushing on himself.

“I’d say that mid-tempo ballads are really where their voices peak,” she offered.

“That’s good; that gives me some focus.  What else?” 

“Well, if you’re going to take one of your songs and transition it to country music I think you’re best off stripping it down to an acoustic track and then building from there.” 

He smiled, “You know, you’re pretty good at this.  I’d hire you if you weren’t already working for me.”

**

The clock on the wall read 8:30.  The two had been in lock down in the studio for about eleven hours.  JC had still not committed to which song he was going to work with.  He had dug through his songwriting archives, but was coming up empty.  Whitney had tasked herself with searching through his older audio files to see if anything spurred some inspiration for him.  No such luck.  She slid away from his computer and moved to the sofa in the corner. 

“I know it’s getting late.  You can head out if you’re getting tired,” he offered.

“No, I just wanted to get more comfortable,” she settled in.  A leather notebook on the side table caught her eye.  She flipped it open and combed through dozens of pages of lyrics.  “What are these songs, JC?”

He looked over, “Oh, they’re just ideas I had in a sort of stream of thought.”

She started reading through and focused her attention on a song titled When You Got A Good Thing.  The chorus stood out to her as something she could see the band being receptive to. 

So baby, hold on tight

Don’t let go

Hold onto the love we’re making

‘Cause baby when the ground starts shakin’

You gotta know when you’ve got a good thing

“JC, what about this song When You Got A Good Thing?  The lyrics are definitely on point.  Do you have a melody?”  She handed him his notebook to look over.

He nodded, “Yeah, I had some little bit in my head.”  He started humming and tapping on the desk in tandem. 

She stood up, “Alright, well if you’re going to write a whole song in time for tomorrow you’re going to need nourishment.”

“I am getting a little hungry.  There should be some leftover Chinese in the fridge.”

“That sounds like a good bet,” she said and he stood up and followed her upstairs to the kitchen. 

**

The two had finished eating and Whitney slipped their plates into the dishwasher.  JC seemed semi-present as he was clearly letting his mind drift into songwriting mode.  He snapped out of it for a moment and clapped his hands. 

“I know what the song needs,” he said.

“What?”

He stood up and moved towards the hall, “Follow me upstairs.”

Whitney had never been upstairs in his home.  She had envisioned a neat and minimalist bedroom which probably provided him some sense of tranquility with a hyper-organized walk-in closet.  She moved after him with excitement at the thought of being able to put her imagination to rest.  She stopped behind him at the threshold of his bedroom and took it in.  Her vision was very close to the real thing.  He had a large neatly made bed and minimal decorations.  On the opposite end of the room was something she had not expected – a baby grand piano.  He made his way over to it and motioned for her to sit next to him on the bench.

“Nothing comes close to the sound that comes out of this.  It just feels more organic to me,” he said, dancing his fingers across the keys.  He started singing the lyrics softly as he moved his hands up and down the keys, deciding on the key range. 

“Everybody keeps telling me I’m such a lucky man

Looking at you standing there I know I am

Barefooted beauty with eyes that blue

Sunshine sure looks good on you, I swear”

It was now 10:15.  Whitney was feeling a wave of exhaustion, but decided that since she had set up JC’s meeting with Lady A she needed to help him prepare.  It didn’t seem right to leave until he had cracked the code to this song and she was enjoying listening to him sing it out as he continued writing. 

“You know,” he slid his fingers off of the piano keys.  “Nothing happened last night.”

She felt her pulse quicken as she turned to look at him, “What?”

“Nothing happened between Bianca and I,” he cleared his throat as he studied her eyes with his.  “Whitney, the thing is-“

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Her cell-phone glared at both of them as it rang and the screen flashed.  Charlie was calling. 

*Lyrics from Lady A's When You Got A Good Thing