“Dave, are you okay to stay a bit longer to work on the piano chords?” JC asks and Dave nods from inside the studio.  “Great, then Charles and Hillary, you can wrap for today and we’ll see you back tomorrow to finish the song.” 

“Great first day,” Hillary smiles as she hangs up her headphones.  

Charles claps his hands appreciatively.  He makes deliberate eye contact with Whitney before looking back towards JC, “How much later do you plan on staying?”

JC scratches his temple, “Maybe an hour or so.”   He pauses for a moment and shifts his own eyes over to Whitney.  “Whitney, why don’t you head out?  I’m all set here and you’ve earned some time off.”

Whitney frowns, “Are you sure?  What if you need something?”

He chuckles, “I am capable of taking care of myself for a few hours.”

She smiles, “If you’re sure.”

“Sure,” he smiles as Dave comes in from the recording booth to sit down with JC at the mixing board.  

Hillary loops her arm into Whitney’s and pulls her with her as they head out the door, “See y’all tomorrow.”

“Yes, have a great night,” Whitney smiles.

Charles waves and slowly trails behind them outside to the sidewalk.  

“It was SUCH a good day!” Hillary grins, pulling her arms back to give Whitney a big hug.  “Have a great night and get ready because tomorrow night you are staying over at my place - we are going full on girly sleepover!  I might even have to pull out my old *NSYNC DVDs for the occasion!” 

Whitney laughs, “Can’t wait!” 

A car pulls up and Hillary slips inside waving, leaving Whitney and Charles on the sidewalk alone.  He clears his throat, “And then there were two.”

She raises her eyebrow at him.  “Now that we’ve earned an early dismissal, what’s next?”

He grins, “I have an idea...”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “How about dinner first?”  

“Room service?” he pleads.

She shakes her head, “Charlie, I want to go out with you.  We haven’t gotten to go out on a proper date in Nashville before.” 

He frowns and checks his watch before nodding, “Alright, proper date it is.”  He extends his hand and takes hers as they make their way down the sidewalk.  

—

Dave’s fingers dance across the piano keys as JC nods with his eyes closed, listening intently to the take.  The outro finishes and JC opens his eyes and pushes the intercom button.  “That’s spot on Dave, just fantastic.”  

Dave smiles and nods as he slides back on the piano bench.  “All set?”

JC nods, “Yes, let’s call it a night.” 

Dave stretches his hands and stands up, leaving the recording booth.  He puts his hand on JC’s shoulder, “It’s sounding great.”

“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure to work with all of you so far.”

“A pleasure for all of us too, truly.”  

JC pushes back on the wheels of the chair before letting out a yawn.  

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” Dave asks.  

JC sighs, “Actually, I don’t really have any.”

“Do you want to get a beer?” he asks and JC nods as they pack up.  They head down the street to a bar and order a round.

—

Charles helps Whitney put her coat on as they leave the tapas restaurant where they have just had dinner.  As they step outside, she feels the contrast between the chill in the air and her warm cheeks, reddened from the pitcher of sangria they shared.  Charles wraps an arm around Whitney’s shoulders and they make their way down the sidewalk.  

“I like this,” she sighs, leaning into him.  

He chuckles as he pulls her in closer and leans down to kiss her forehead.  “Should we head back to the hotel?”

“What about dessert?” she asks, grinning.

“That’s what the hotel is for,” he raises his eyebrows.

She playfully punches his arm, “Come on Charlie, you know I love actual dessert.”

“‘Specially when you’ve been drinkin’,” he laughs.

“Hey, ice cream is my pre-hangover food, works every time.” 

He sighs, “Can’t we just order room service?  It’s getting late and I just want some alone time with you.” 

“Patience, Charlie, patience.  Patience and mint chocolate chip…” she trails, tugging him down the block.  

For a night that has turned a little bit chillier, the ice cream parlor at the end of the street has a small crowd outside.  The air smells of fresh ice cream cones being made as they arrive at the entrance and join the line just inside the doorway.  Charles stands behind Whitney and rests his hands on her shoulders, the space too small for them to be side by side.  “What are you going to get?” he whispers into her ear.  

“Everything,” she muses with widened eyes, looking at the display case with what appears to be over thirty options.  

He chuckles, “You really are buzzed.” 

She puts her arm to her chest in mock defense, “For the record, the sangria was your idea.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“What are you going to get?” she asks him, as they move up in the line.

“I can just try some of yours,” he gently rubs her arms.

She looks up at him and laughs, “Absolutely not.  My cone is all for me. Hangover cure only works if I eat all of it myself.”

He sighs and looks around, “Fine, I’ll get a small something.” 

“Well, if you also get something that we can share…” she smiles.

“You’re drivin’ me crazy,” he laughs.

“And you love it,” she grins.

They finally make their way up to the counter and Whitney orders 2 scoops of mint chocolate chip on a sugar cone and then orders a cup with 1 scoop of blackberry and 1 scoop of dark chocolate and 2 spoons.  Charles rolls his eyes playfully and treats her, swiping his card.  He grabs a large handful of napkins as they make their way from the counter and head back towards the door.

“Enough napkins there?” she asks.

He nods, “My role here is really to hold this cup and your spoon in between you taking breaks from your ice cream cone, I’m really just your napkin dispensary at this point.”

She laughs, “There are two spoons for a reason. Yes, I wanted to try all of those flavors, but I also want you to have your fair share.” 

He bends down and steals a bite of her ice cream cone and she makes mock offense noises and pouts.  “Gotcha,” he laughs and licks his lips before kissing her and she can’t help but laugh along.

Whitney hears someone behind them say, “Hey, isn’t that Charles from Lady A?” and all of a sudden there is a rush of murmuring.  She glances back and sees that most of the crowd outside the ice cream shop are staring at the two of them, some with cell phones poised.  The energy shifts and Charles frowns, checking his watch again.  “We should go,” he says and the two of them head down the street quickly.  

—

JC and Dave have talked about music for hours now like they are old friends, not two people who just met for the first time today.  Dave’s roots in country music are inherently different from JC’s pop background, but there are more similarities than differences.  While Charles has always struck JC as being a little too self-assured, Dave is down-to-earth and earnest.  JC even found himself telling Dave about his hospitalization, something he rarely speaks about with anyone.  Dave was incredibly understanding, being the type to also overwork himself and to lock himself in the studio for hours upon hours trying to perfect a song.  He also struggles with the work life balance that comes with this industry and understands the constant balancing act.  

JC clears his throat as he toys with his beer bottle on the table.  “Dave, can I ask you something?”

Dave nods, “Shoot.” 

“How long have Whitney and Charles been seeing each other?” As soon as the words escape him, JC regrets asking.  He knows he should let it go, but he just can’t.  He wants the whole story.

Dave looks conflicted as he takes a beat before answering him.  “They aren’t.”

JC cocks his head, “Oh, they’re not a couple?”

Dave sighs.  “The second that something happened between them, Whitney resigned from working with us.  She did not want to complicate the situation, which we completely respected.  But it was a huge loss for us all.” 

“So they’re not seeing each other?”

Dave shakes his head, “No, that was a one time thing.” 

“Ohh…and that’s how she went from being the tour manager for one of the biggest country music groups in the world to…being my assistant,” JC is finally connecting the dots.

Dave nods, “I think she wanted to move pretty quickly on the job switch.”

JC takes another sip of his beer, “Damn, what a downgrade.” 

Dave shrugs, “I wouldn’t say that.  There’s a lot of lifestyle differences between being on the road on tour versus being in a steadier situation.  Something to be said for stability.”

“I guess,” JC shrugs.

“Well, look at it this way.  Whitney’s working with a songwriter producer and connected him with artists for a crossover song, that’s pretty interesting work.”

“She helped me with some of the lyrics, too,” JC offers.

Dave smiles, “As far as I know, she’s never been involved in songwriting before.  Doesn’t surprise me, though.  She’s talented, it was only a matter of time before working with songwriters would somehow rub off on her.” 

JC smiles at that. 

—

Charles stands up from the bed and pulls his jeans on.  

“Do you have to leave?” Whitney asks, still laying down and covering herself up with a sheet.

“Afraid so,” he says, checking the time again.

“Can’t spend tonight here again?”

He checks his watch again, “Afraid not, darlin’.  Busy day tomorrow finishing the studio session, I need to get a change of clothes and a good night’s sleep.”

She sighs, “Since when are you the responsible one?”

He laughs, buttoning up his shirt.  “What a role reversal!  I promise to be reckless and spontaneous again tomorrow night.” 

She shakes her head, “I promised Hillary I’d spend the night over at her place tomorrow for some girl time.”

He sighs, “The whole night?”  Whitney nods as he groans.  “So, what does that leave us with?  How much longer are you here for?”

Whitney sits up.  “It’s Wednesday night and we’re here ‘til Saturday morning.  Tomorrow is another full studio session, then I’m staying with Hillary and then Friday we have several meetings here before flying back Saturday.” 

“How free is Friday?” he asks.

She frowns, “Not sure, lots of meetings during the day, but I’m not sure what the evening looks like.”

He nods, “Okay, well let’s make time for each other on Friday before you fly back.” 

She smiles as he comes back to the bed to kiss her before gathering the rest of his things to head out.

—

JC has made his way back to the hotel and is ready to get into bed and get some sleep.  He passes through the entryway and is about to make his way to the elevators when he hears a female voice calling out to him.  He turns and his eyes widen in surprise at the sight before him.  “Bianca?”

“Surprise!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him.  She leans into him and kisses him hard, which throws his balance slightly off and he staggers backward.  

“What are you doing here?” he asks, a shocked expression still written all over his face.

She takes a moment to look around the crowded hotel lobby and grins.  She loves an audience.  “I missed my boyfriend!  You’ve been working so hard, I wanted to surprise you and show you a good time.” 

“Well, I was going to call it a night, big day tomorrow,” he says.  

“But, it’s still early…and I’m on California time, the sun hasn’t even set back home,” she pulls on his arm.

He sighs, “I really need to rest up for tomorrow.” 

“One drink, c’mon, just one drink…” she pulls his arm and he relents, letting her lead him to the hotel bar.  She makes sure to choose a spot at the bar where they will be seen.  The more eyes on them, the better.  He sits on a stool beside her and she leans into him, resting her hand around his bicep.  A bartender approaches them. 

“You folks know what you’d like?”

JC purses his lips, “A beer…maybe a Stella?”

Bianca shakes her head, “No, no - this is a special occasion.”

“Oh, are you celebrating?” the bartender asks.

Bianca nods, “Yes, my boyfriend has just finished writing a hit song, it’s cause for celebration.” 

JC corrects her, “Well, it isn’t finished yet-”

Bianca waves her finger at him, “Now, now, just celebrate it.  Let’s have two dirty martinis.”  The bartender nods and moves to start making them.

“I’ve already had a few beers tonight, Bianca, I don’t think I can stomach a martini…” JC frowns.

“Nonsense, live a little” she squeezes his bicep harder.  

The martinis arrive and Bianca spends most of the conversation buttering JC up.  Complimenting him on how talented he is and what an accomplishment this producing trip is for him.  She sounds genuine and it almost sounds like the kind of conversation real romantic partners would have with each other.  Anyone eavesdropping would believe that they really were in a serious relationship.  JC starts to feel really buzzed as he finishes off the martini and is surprised when another fresh one appears before him.  He doesn’t even remember Bianca ordering another round.  

He looks down at her, “How long are you staying in Nashville?”

She plucks the toothpick out of her glass that the olive is on and slowly sucks on it, looking up at him coyly.  “However long you want me here.”  He gulps as she slides her other hand onto his thigh.  “And I do hope you want me.”

In the back of his mind, he knows that this isn’t real, that this whole relationship is a work of fiction.  Well, no, it’s not all fiction.  Bianca has always had a crush on him, he knows that.  He just doesn’t know how much of this is really an act on her part.  Bianca is beautiful, there’s no question about that.  He never pursued her because she can be…difficult.  But, when they are alone like this, just the two of them, she is sweet with him.  He knows it’s the buzz of the alcohol and the way she is pumping his ego and the sexual frustration he’s had lately that is warping his view on this situation at this moment, but he can’t help it - he wants it.  He wants Bianca and he knows she wants him and he knows he should just excuse himself and go to bed, but for one night he just wants to give in.  

“Your eyes are so dark right now,” she whispers.

“Where are you staying tonight?” he asks huskily and her eyes widen in surprise.  She is always the pursuer in their situation and this is the first time he has shown a true interest.  

She bats her eyelashes, “Here.  I have a suite…care for a nightcap?”

JC motions for the check and feels her wrap her arms around his shoulders and she stands up off her stool, while he’s still seated.  She kisses him again, this time harder and he leans into it and slides his tongue into her mouth.  She lets out a small moan and he grins.  He can’t be sure if she’s for real or if it’s for the onlookers, but he wants to feel wanted and he’s going to pretend along if he has to.  He signs the check and stands, holding her hand and leading her to the elevators.  The elevator opens and it’s empty as the two of them slide in.  

“Is this for show?” he asks.  He can’t help himself.  

She looks up at him as she swipes her roomkey to select the top floor.  “I want you, show or no show.”  

He exhales and grabs her by the hips, pulling her towards him.  She stands between his legs as he leans against the wall of the elevator.  He slides his hands around to her backside, gripping her by the ass and pulling her closer.  She giggles as she leans into him again, kissing him roughly.  She bites down on his bottom lip.  The elevator doors open and she pulls him with her.  “Time for your own private show.” 

—

Whitney is ready to go in the morning and knocks on JC’s door.  No sign of him.  Maybe he went downstairs early like the day before and had his breakfast already.  She texts him to check.  No response.  She tries calling again and hears nothing.  On a whim, she calls his hotel room phone and hears it ringing inside, but no movement.  He would definitely have woken up to that noise if he was still in there.  She heads down to the lobby and there’s no sign of him anywhere and the car has arrived.  Is it possible he headed to the studio on his own?  She’s not sure what to do and texts Charles.  

Whitney: Are you at the studio yet?

Charles: No, on my way now.  

Whitney: Can’t find JC and wondering if he headed there ahead of me.

Charles: I’ll text you when I get there - about 5 minutes out.  Would be a dick move for him to not tell you that, though.      

He’s right…it would be weird for JC to head to the studio on his own and not even tell her.  Her whole job is to coordinate these things for him and he must know she’s panicked and unsure of his whereabouts.  She heads outside to tell the driver what is going on and to politely ask him to wait a few minutes while she figures out her next move.  She does one more lap around the hotel first floor and texts him one more time, letting him know the car is here.

Charles: Dave and I are here, but not JC yet.  I will let you know when he shows up.

She is a combination of panicked and irritated, unsure of whether she should be worried or pissed off.  What if something happened to him?  What if he forgot to take his medication?  Her mind swirls through all of the different worst case scenarios when her phone rings and she sees JC light up on her caller ID.  Phew.

“JC, I was just starting to worry,” she says, relief in her tone.

“Whitney,” a familiar female voice speaks into the receiver, “we’re sleeping in.  JC had a long night and needs the rest.  Can you bring us some green juices?”

“Bianca?  JC is supposed to be at the studio - we’re already going to be late.” 

Bianca sighs.  Whitney can hear her eye roll through the phone.  “Listen, he’ll get there, he’ll just be a little late.  He’s in charge anyway, what does it matter.” 

Whitney bites her lip.  She’d like to say a lot of things right now, but pissing off Bianca isn’t going to solve this problem any faster.  

“Where are you?” 

“We’re in my suite, I’ll text you the room number.  Green juice and croissants and…how about some avocado toast?  Bring it up in about an hour.” 

“Is he awake?  Does he know what time it is?” Whitney is trying not to freak out.

Bianca sighs again, “Bring it up in an hour.”  She hangs up and Whitney is left speechless.

She texts Charles and tells him that JC is running late, there’s a situation, and for Hillary and Charles to practice the second half of the song lyrics in the meantime.  

Hurricane Bianca has blown in to ruin everything.  Shit, shit, shit!