The Music building was beautiful, she noticed, striving for the appearance of an actual production company’s offices. The open, airy atmosphere of the commons area blended seamlessly into four floors of classrooms, rehearsal spaces, lesson rooms and recording studios. She was really looking forward to starting her regular classes on the second floor in the morning, but right now, as she made her way to what seemed to be a reception desk, Jen had to consider that maybe breakfast hadn’t been such a good idea.

“Hey. You look a little lost.” The young guy behind the desk sent her a friendly smile, crossing his arms as he swiveled in his chair. “Which class are you looking for?”

“Hi. I’m looking for Brian …” Jen blinked quickly, suddenly realizing she didn’t have a last name. “Actually, that’s all I’ve got.” She laughed and shook her head. “Professor Summers just directed me to Brian in the labs. Any idea if he’s in today?”

“Yeah, he came in earlier. Hang on a sec.” Grabbing a cordless phone from beneath the desk, he punched in a few numbers, then waited for a second. “Hey, man. You in the middle of something? I’ve got …” He glanced at her quickly. “What’s your name?”

“Jen. Jen Lawson.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a Jen Lawson here looking for you. Summers sent her over.” The chair spun again as he listened. “Okay, yeah. I’ll send her up.” The phone beeped in disconnect. “He’s just closing out a session, but he’ll be ready by the time you get there. Take the elevators at the end of this hall to the third floor, then go right. Follow the signs to the Green Rooms and he’ll be in studio four. If the light by the door is off, just knock and go on in.”

“Okay. Thanks, uh …”

“Adam.”

“Right.” She flashed him a smile then turned to make her way down the hallway toward the elevators. “Thanks, Adam.”

“Good luck, Jen.” He swung the chair around to watch as she moved out of sight and sighed. “With the way he just sounded, you’ll need it.”

As she stepped onto the third floor, Jen immediately found a sign directing her to the Green Rooms. Swallowing hard, she pulled her bag higher on her shoulder and started walking, making a turn down another hallway just as a door ahead of her opened, a blonde girl rushing out and past her, making an odd choking noise as she went.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Alarmed, she almost turned to follow her.

“No!” The girl looked back, revealing the tears running down her face. “He’s … he’s awful!” And just like that, she was gone, barreling around the corner and back the way Jen had come.

Brows raised high, wide brown eyes turned to read the sign on the door the girl had just escaped from.

Green Rooms

“Oh, great.” She sighed as she opened the door, stepping into a waiting room surrounded by doors marked with studio numbers. Every light was off, so she found the door labeled with a four and knocked, then pushed it open cautiously. “Hello?”

“Hey, come on in.” A tall, dark haired guy was seated at the board, his back to her as she walked in and dropped her bag in an open seat. “Jen?”

“Yeah. Brian?”

“That’s me.” His fingers adjusted a few settings, quickly moving over the switches and knobs before him. “Summers sent you over?”

“She did.” Jen crossed her arms, studying his posture. “You didn’t happen to just send a blonde girl running for her life and sobbing as if the world was falling apart, did you?”

“Probably. She wasted an hour of my life on some tuneless drivel about a pickup truck and an ice cream sandwich.” He laughed, spinning the chair around to face her and coming to a sudden stop, his gaze freezing on her face. “Well, this is a tiny world. Smoothie girl?”

“Wow. Yeah, I guess it is.” A grin brightened her features when she recognized him. “You look much better than you did the last time I saw you. How are you doing?”

“I’m good. Glad I have a name to put with the face, Jen.” He smiled, gesturing for her to sit down. “I didn’t thank you for letting me vent that day. You probably should’ve just kicked me out of your booth.”

“Nah, you needed an ear.” She sat in the cushioned chair across from him and shrugged sheepishly. “And to be honest, I went home and wrote about it.” Her hand motioned toward her bag. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“If it’s a hit, then I don’t mind at all.” Brian leaned back in his chair and studied her carefully. “Summers doesn’t usually make a habit of sending folks my way. What gives with you?”

“I turned in some composition pieces that she liked.” Her shoulders lifted in another shrug. “She really wanted to see what I could do with lyrics.”

“Trust me, if she’s sending you directly to me, she more than liked them.” His brow lifted. “I’m the student director of the Music Technology section. I train the guys who work with everybody else and take on the odd jobs when there’s nobody else available, if I’m not booked at my own studio.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not gonna lie, Jen. If it sucks, I’ll say so. Some people – like Tiffany who was just here – don’t have skin thick enough for this business. If you don’t have the grit to handle criticism, you’ll never make it.”

“Be as brutal as you want. If I can improve, I want to.” She nodded, the corner of her mouth lifting in a slight smile. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.” The chair squeaked as he leaned forward. “Do you need musicians? Or did you bring arrangements?”

“I have my own.” Reaching for her bag, she unzipped it to reveal a stack of envelopes. “Just simple piano and guitar, minimal strings and maybe a little percussion if I felt the rhythm needed to be established.”

“Perfect. You don’t want to embellish too much on a demo. Most artists want to choose material that they can do their own thing with. But I do hope you’ve got full arrangements to record over, too. Having the sheet music ready will make putting together your Senior showcase easier.” His eyes widened when he saw how many she’d brought with her. “I can give you two hours, but that’s about it for today. We might make it through two or three if we can keep it to five takes.”

“I’m not the best vocalist in the world, but I’m passable. And these are my babies. I know them backwards and forwards. We probably won’t need to do them more than twice, unless you say so.”

He laughed. “Confident little thing, aren’t you?”

“Not really. I’m just well practiced.” She shook her head. “And I know that you don’t want a lot of vocal gymnastics on a demo, anyway. Straight and simple is the best way to sell a song.”

“Exactly.” Pulling a few of the packets from her bag, he stacked them next to the board. “Just tell me where you want to start and we’ll get going.” Another laugh escaped when he saw the notations on the top envelope. “I guess I’m ‘Guy from Smoothie Shop’, huh?”

“Yeah.” Grinning, she stood. “Let’s save that one for last, if you don’t care. I think it’s really more suited for a male vocal, but I’ll let you make that call.”

“Okay. We’ll start with Foolish Games, then.” He put the disc in the system and started loading the track for playback. “There’s some water in the cabinet over there. Help yourself.” Sizing her up, he measured the height of the microphone in the booth. “And we don’t want you to be standing on your toes, either. Let’s make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Sounds good.” She collected her sheet music and followed him into the booth, her fingers playing with the label on her water bottle. “So … how many people do you make cry on a daily basis?”

“Maybe two or three.” His shoulders shook with quiet chuckles as he lowered the microphone to her height. “I’m not that bad, I promise. I just know good work when I hear it. We get a lot of horrible stuff that comes through here.”

“Well, here’s hoping I don’t fall in that category.” With a smile, she pulled a stool over to the rigging and adjusted the height of the music stand. “Do you want me right up on it, or does it matter?”

“You want to be close to the filter, but you don’t have to eat it.” He checked the set up one last time before moving to the door. “You’ll be able to hear me in the headphones, but I won’t bother you while the track is going unless I think we need to stop. Okay?”

“Perfect. Thanks.” She took a deep, cleansing breath, then a drink of water as he took his place behind the board. The headphones settled into place just in time for her to hear his voice.

“You ready?”

“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

“Relax. It’s okay if you don’t get it with the first take. We’ve got plenty of time.” He pushed a few buttons. “Just give me a thumbs up if the volume is okay.”

When the music began, she nodded and signaled to him, then edged forward in anticipation of the intro for the first verse.

On the other side of the glass, Brian made sure he was muted so he wouldn’t disturb her with his reactions, then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as the music swelled around him. “Please, God … don’t let her be another Tiffany.”

By the first chorus, he was leaning forward, completely disregarding any of the adjustments he would’ve normally been making as he watched her. She had her eyes closed, not even needing the sheet music as she used a shockingly clear tone to tell her story over one of the most impressive demo arrangements he’d ever heard. Not only was the lyrical content stellar, but the track left plenty open for interpretation, and he knew that the voice would be selling songs to chart-topping artists before anybody knew what was happening.

Too soon, it was over and he was closing out the session, glancing up only when he heard her clear her throat and take a drink.

“Should we do it again? I thought it went well, but you’re the expert here.”

“Uh, I think we’re good. That was fantastic.” He laughed at her doubtful expression and shook his head. “Really, you got that in the first take. It couldn’t have been better. You didn’t happen to bring the full arrangement, did you? I’d love to hear how you fleshed it out.”

“I didn’t even think of it. I’ll make sure to bring both next time.”

“That’d be great. Summers likes to hear finished products as well as the demo version. Makes it easier for her to help with putting together your Senior project.” Putting a blank disc in the burner, he set to finalizing the demo. “I’m going to make individual discs for your portfolio submissions, but I’ll also make you a compilation so you have something to keep at home.”

“Great.” She looked down as she tightened the lid back on her bottle. “Thank you.”

“Tell me something … who played for your arrangement?”

“I did.”

“Yeah, right.” His expression was unconvinced as she arched a brow at him. “Seriously?”

“Yep. All of my arrangements are totally me, with my computer providing any orchestral strings or percussion I need. I started playing piano when I was eight and picked up the acoustic guitar when I was thirteen.” Her head tilted as her fingers played with the edges of her sheet music. “I bought an electric as a graduation present for myself. I’m passable, but I don’t think it shows up on any of these.”

There was that word again. For a second, he wondered what her definition of passable might be. “Okay, then one more thing: who in their right mind would break that heart of yours?”

“What? Nobody.” She looked up, confused, then laughed. “Oh, right. Wuthering Heights.”

“The book?”

“Yeah. We had to read it for my Lit class this past summer. Hated the book, loved the inspiration.”

“Well, there you have it.” He reached over when the disc finished, labeled it and slid it into a case before flipping through her collection. “You good to go for Commitment?”

“Whatever you say. Bring it on.” She turned to the right pages, then settled on the stool. “Anytime you’re ready.”

With a wave, he loaded the track, prepped the board and set the disc, sitting back once again to watch her work. The country sound surrounding him was a surprise, but she tackled it like a pro, even getting a slight southern edge to some of the lyrics.

Four songs later, he was reaching for the cordless unit by the desk, quickly dialing the number for an office a few buildings over. “Alex? You’ve got to hear this.” He held the phone out so she could hear what was reverberating around the room.

Sorry I never told you all I wanted to say
And now it’s too late to hold you
’Cuz you’ve flown away, so far away

Never had I imagined living without your smile
Feeling, knowing you hear me
It keeps me alive, alive

And I know you’re shining down on me from heaven
Like so many friends we’ve lost along the way
And I know eventually we’ll be together
One sweet day

“Brian? Is that Jen in your studio?”

“Who else would it be?” Spinning the chair around, he checked to make sure the girl behind the glass was doing all right. “Where did you find her?”

“Music Comp I. Bachelor’s track.”

“You’re kidding. She’s a freshman?”

“Basically. She was taking care of core credits at a community college before she came here, but only the foreign language met transfer requirements.” Silence carried over the line, and he could picture Alex reclining in her desk chair, listening. “She’s even better than I’d hoped. Isn’t she astounding?”

“Uh, yeah. I’d say so. Her lyrical content is killer and her demo arrangements are the best I’ve ever heard.” Leaning back, he ran a hand through his hair. “We’re going to finish eight demos today. Eight. And we’ve only been here a little over an hour. She’s incredible.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Get Mac on the phone. Like, today.” He gave Jen a smile and a nod as the track ended, then started closing it out. “If you’re looking to make a splash, I’d place my bets on her.” Twisting back around, he picked up the packet that had his ‘name’ on it. “Student or not, this girl is gonna be huge and she’ll need someone to mind the business for her. Mac’s involved, honest and fair. He’s your guy.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” She gave a satisfied sigh. “Send her to my office when you’re finished. I’ll give him a call and set up a meeting to get the business squared away.” The smile in her voice was genuine. “And I can’t wait to hear what else you two accomplished today.”

“Will do.” He glanced back toward Jen, grinning as she did a happy little jig when she thought he wasn’t looking. “Really, Alex … you’ve got something special here. Take care of her.”

*********************

The Jeep was in the drive when she pulled in that evening, a few cars she didn’t recognize parked next to it, and her brow furrowed as she wondered if she should’ve been expecting the guys to be there. She couldn’t remember any changes to their schedule, and she shrugged as she parked.

“Josh must’ve needed a break from the Funky Bunch.” Her gaze landed on Maggie’s little car parked on the other side of the garage. “And she must have a study session tonight. Great.”

The garage door whirred as it came down to close, and she paused when she saw Maggie’s backpack lying next to the door leading into the house. “Lot of good that’s doing her.” Leaning back across the front seat, she grabbed her bag and the file of papers Alex had given her before sending her out for her afternoon class.

“I’ve contacted Peter MacArthur, a colleague of mine. He’ll be coming in to advise us on the best way to handle your portfolio. Make sure to read over the details of the contract carefully. Mac will take good care of you, but he won’t sign unless he’s sure you’re well-read on the small print. He’ll break it down for you when we meet next week, but please be prepared when you arrive. Put in more time with Brian over the next few days to finalize more demos and to record over any full arrangements you have ready. And bring any other composition work you have completed with you as well. Your portfolio needs to grow, and quickly.”

Shaking her head, she bent down to pick up Maggie’s bag, then pushed her way into the house. Some sporting event was playing on the TV, the cheers of the crowd echoing down the hallway as she hung her bag on its hook and reached in for the disc Brian had sent with her. Tucking it between her fingers with a smile, she flipped open the folder and began reading the first page as she walked to the foot of the stairs, not even looking up as she set Maggie’s pack on the bottom step.

“Hey, Mags, you left your bag in the garage!” She had to yell to be heard over the television, then her stomach clenched in hunger when her senses clued in to the delicious smell around her. “And whatever you had delivered smells awesome!”

Still engrossed in the contract, she was halfway to her office when a hand gripped her arm, giving her a tug. She jumped and screamed, the disc falling to the floor and skittering underneath one of the couches, papers scattering as the file flew from her hand when she whipped around and swung her fist upward, landing a solid right hook to her attacker’s face.

“Ow!”

She’d settled into a boxing stance, terror spiking through her veins, when she looked down to see Joey sprawled at her feet, hands covering his face and writhing in pain. “Joey?” Staring at him, she took deep breaths, calming down enough to realize what she’d just done. “Joey!” Horrified, she dropped to her knees next to him, pulling his hands away from his face to inspect the damage and grimacing at the blood coming from his split lip. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“My God, Jenny … I think you broke my jaw.” He mumbled, but it was swallowed up by the blaring of the TV and the laughter shrieking from the kitchen.

“Seriously, guys?” She glared in the general direction of the peanut gallery, then focused back on Joey. “Somebody wet a dish towel and get some ice.” Cheers rang out again and she growled. “And turn off the damn TV!” The room suddenly went quiet and she ignored the pain in her hand to let her fingers press gently against his cheek and jaw, already bright red and swelling from the force of her punch. “I’m so sorry, Joe Bear. I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

“Yeah, sure.” He winced when the words worked over his injured lip, sending blood flowing more freely. “You’ve got some pent-up rage there, Hot Stuff.”

“I’ve been taking self-defense classes since my senior year. The boxing is my favorite part.” A bundled, wet towel appeared in front of her and she didn’t even look up as she took it, immediately pressing the blue fabric against his face and using the corner to dab at his lip. “I don’t think anything’s broken. Are your teeth okay?”

“I think so.” A sigh escaped as the coolness of the ice pack settled against his cheek.

“Can you get up? You didn’t hit your head, did you?” He shook his head as she helped him sit up. “Jeez, Joe. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a UFC fighter in another life, or I would’ve been more careful.”

“Here, take this.” She gestured for him take over holding the ice pack to his face, her brow furrowing when she saw the red stains all over his shirt. “That’s not blood, is it? I didn’t think a split lip could do all that.”

“No, that’s my attempt at tomato sauce.” His shoulder shrugged toward the kitchen. “Right, Mom?”

“That’s right.” A woman with Joey’s build and a sparkle of humor in her eyes had her arms crossed over her chest, obviously fighting back laughter. “A definite attempt.”

“Oh, hey, Mrs. Fatone.” Jen blinked, wondering why Joey’s mother was standing in her kitchen before looking back to him. “I may joke about killing him sometimes, but I promise I wouldn’t actually do it. For some strange reason, I like having him around.”

“It’s Phyllis, Jen.” She had turned back to stir something in a pot on the stove and point Maggie in the direction of the oven, her smile lifting her tone. “And trust me, we’ve all threatened his life at least once or twice.” Joey snorted, shaking his head again. “He’s just too darn loveable to stay angry with, isn’t he?”

“Something like that, sure.” JC knelt beside her and took her hand, reaching out with another iced towel. “What’s that for?”

“You.” Only when he pressed the wet fabric to her knuckles did she hiss against the pain. “You didn’t break it, did you?”

“God, I hope not. That’d put a real kink in things.” She lifted the corner of the towel, wincing when she saw the red and broken skin across the top of her swollen hand. “Maybe it’s just bruised.” Suddenly realizing that there were people moving through the living room, she looked around quickly. “Hey, be careful of the paperwork, please. I doubt they’d be impressed if I showed up with shoe prints all over it.”

“We’ve got you covered, Jenny.” Chris had bent down to pick up a few of the scattered sheets and began reading the page in front of him. “What’s this?”

“A contract.” She leaned against JC as he helped her stand, then raised her wrapped hand closer to her chest as she looked around for the disc she’d been carrying. “Anybody see a CD lying anywhere?”

“It went sliding this way.” Justin was on his stomach, fishing underneath first one couch, then the other, until he found the case. “Got it.”

“Great.” A relieved sigh lifted her shoulders as she watched Lance give Joey a hand up. “I don’t know if Brian deletes sessions after he’s done. That may be my only copy.” She shot a quick look over to Maggie, who was helping locate the rest of the scattered pages. “Speaking of … you’re never going to guess who Brian is, Mags.”

“No?” The redhead picked up the folder and began sliding pages inside. “Who is he?”

“Guy from Smoothie Shop.”

Maggie, Chris and JC all turned to stare at her.

“You’re kidding.” Maggie laughed. “What’re the chances of that?”

“I know, right?”

“Wait.” Lance glanced between the four of them, eyes widened in confusion. “What guy from a smoothie shop?”

“Some dude with a broken heart busted up into Jenny’s booth in a smoothie shop and she let him vent. Turns out he’s the recording engineer her advisor wanted her to use.” Chris chuckled under his breath, then raised his head with a bright smile. “Best part is, she wrote a song about him and took it with her for a demo session today. I’d love to hear how that went over.”

“Actually, it went really well. He had me change the gender of the lyrics, but he really didn’t mind at all.” She put a little pressure on her hand, wincing when the massage sent pain through her wrist. “Probably a good thing, since we’ll be working together for at least this term. I’m not sure when he’s supposed to graduate … or if he’s even really a student. He mentioned having his own studio already.” A brow raised questioningly as she glanced back at Maggie. “Are student directors actually students?”

“They can be, I guess.”

“Anyway, he was great.” Jen shook her head suddenly, looking at the group of people around her. “Wait. Why are you guys even here? Not that I mind at all, but did your schedule change?”

“They’re here having a lesson in spicy chicken rigatoni with tomato sauce, salad and homemade garlic bread.” Phyllis spoke up from the kitchen. “Which wasn’t necessarily a success, but it’s ready, if you all are.”

“You’re joking.” A nudge from JC sent her walking into the kitchen, looking around Joey’s mother’s arm to get a whiff of the delicious dishes spread across the counter. “It looks wonderful to me.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Did it end up being all you?”

“Pretty much.” The older woman laughed. “Bless their hearts, they were willing, but totally unskilled. Okay, boys … to the table it goes.” As they carried the platters and bowls to the table, Phyllis wrapped an arm around Jen’s waist. “It’s the thought that counts, though. They’re a bunch of sweethearts.”

“I won’t argue, but what brought this on?”

“It appears they decided you needed a break. Hearing the way Joe talks about you, I’d have to say that I agree.” She led Jen out of the kitchen and toward the table, where JC pulled out a chair for each of them. “You’ve been spoiling them since you got here. Not only do they come here to relax, they spend half their time rehearsing in your space, then you feed the entire crew after you’ve been at school and work all day.”

“It’s not all that much …”

“Honey, I raised that one and putting up with him – and that stomach of his – on a regular basis is enough.” Phyllis met Joey’s slightly offended expression, made more wounded by the ice pack he was still pressing to his face. “No offense, son, but you’re just like your daddy. You and your brother both came by it honest.” She laughed when he shrugged sheepishly, then paused to scoop some salad into a bowl for Jen. “Anyway, that’s just one. You’ve got five of these man-children that you handle nearly daily. That qualifies you for sainthood in my book.”

“And you’ve got a housemate who requires constant attention, too.” Maggie chimed in from across the table. “You rescued me from campus housing hell and put me in a spot most underclassmen would kill for. You went to a job interview and walked away with work for both of us. And how many times have you helped me with my classes? You listened to me memorizing monologues all summer and helped me study for that God-awful algebra final – you knew that I was already a year behind because of Mom being sick and made sure I didn’t get even further off schedule by having to retake that class. Not to mention your work with the kids at the center, putting together pieces for Sam and Jake’s choreography projects and then working on your own stuff, too.” Her features lit with a smile. “I’m glad I was able to make a good friend, but you’re all kinds of extra, girl.”

“You don’t get it. I love having a full house.” Brown eyes moved across the people around her table. “I’m an only child of only children. No uncles, aunts, or cousins. My parents were both older and couldn’t have more kids. Dad kept getting different contracting assignments and we moved around a lot those first few years. I hated being alone so much and I really didn’t have anybody until Josh found me. When his family adopted mine, I thought it was the best thing ever, because I’d always wanted a bunch of brothers and sisters and there he was with not just Heather and Tyler, but this whole crew of cousins that were always coming around.” She noticed distractedly when JC dipped a healthy portion of pasta onto her plate. “I knew things would be different when I came down for school, but I figured he’d be here, so it’d be all right. And it is. You guys are family. I don’t mean to be so motherish, but I’d rather surround myself with good people and spoil them than to ever think about being alone again.” A laugh escaped when he added bread on top of the pasta, and she turned to him. “Really? Are you going to feed me, too?”

“Well, somebody has to, Boof. You just tried to break yourself on Joey’s face, remember?” He gestured toward the hand still cradled against her chest and arched a brow. “Can you even hold a fork? Because I know you’re a total disaster doing anything left-handed.”

“Good point.” Heaving an exasperated sigh, she grinned, then reached for the bread. “So, the fork’s out, but I can still handle this on my own.” Taking a bite, she closed her eyes at the delicious flavors that flooded her mouth. “Wow, that’s good. I may need to take lessons from you, Mrs. … Phyllis.” She quickly corrected herself when a brief glance cut toward her. “I’m okay with biscuits and pizza dough, and I can hold my own with cakes and stuff, but I’ve never really mastered a good loaf bread or rolls.”

“Any time, honey. You just yell and we’ll do it.” Phyllis sent a smile her way. “Actually, we can trade secrets. Joe brought me one of your calzones and it was dynamite. I’m determined to figure out what you put in the crust and sauce.” With a quiet chuckle, Jen leaned over and whispered in her ear, then sat back with a playful wink. “You’re kidding! I never would have thought to try that.”

“Some things we learn by happy accident.” JC nudged her and she turned to find him holding out a loaded fork. “Josh … this is really kind of embarrassing.”

“You want embarrassing? I can totally make airplane noises.” He laughed at her glare, then nodded toward the offered bite. “Open up.” Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward and took the food. “Good girl.”

“Shut up.” She muttered around chewing, shaking her head at the laughter from around the table. “Mmm. That’s delicious, Phyllis. Thanks, guys.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at her injured hand. “I’m not sure how I’ll be able to follow through on house rule number one, though. We’ll figure it out.”

“Rule number one doesn’t apply tonight. We’ve got it.” Chris nodded as he finished off a piece of bread. “You’ve got a contract to look over, don’t you? What’s up with that?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure.” Taking another offered bite, she thought about it. “After we finished in the lab, Brian sent me over to see Professor Summers. She didn’t take the time to listen to the demos from today, but she was telling me that she’s contacted a friend and we’re scheduled to meet with him next Wednesday. He’s supposed to be handling my portfolio and taking care of the legal stuff, I think. I didn’t get that far into the paperwork.”

“Really? Already?” JC glanced over as he speared a bite of salad for her. “Does that happen for everybody?”

“I have no idea. Considering the reactions I’ve gotten from her and Brian, I’m gathering that this isn’t a normal situation for any of us.”

“How many of your songs did you get through today?” Maggie took a drink from her glass. “I’m kind of excited to hear how mine turned out.”

“All of them.” Jen nodded toward the disc Justin had laid next to the sound system. “The entire session is on that CD I brought in. I’m supposed to go back in the morning to get others on disc for submission, and they want to hear my full arrangements along with my demo tracking.” She glanced down at her hand, biting her lip. “I don’t have classes at all tomorrow, so if the swelling doesn’t go down with ice, I’ll head over to the Health Clinic early and make it to the labs by ten. Brian’s giving me three hours and said to bring as many pieces as I can carry.” Her gaze bounced around the table. “He didn’t seem to believe me when I said I’ve got plenty to choose from. Do I even need to worry about being picky at this point?”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Chris had risen from the table, heading for the living room and loading the CD. “The worst they can do is tell you one or two don’t make the cut. Just take anything you feel strongly about.”

Foolish Games began to fill the room, JC continuing to alternate between clearing both of their plates as the others listened intently.

“I didn’t know you were doing the same thing as the boys, honey.” Phyllis looked at her and nodded in approval. “Very nice.”

“Oh, I’m not.” Swallowing the last bite, Jen shook her head. “I’m aiming to be the one writing the songs, not performing them. Being in front of people is definitely not for me.”

“Well, that’s a shame. You have a beautiful voice, dear.”

“Exactly. And we need to work on that stage fright of yours.” Maggie tilted her head as the music changed. “Country? Really?” She laughed when the lyrics began and shook her head. “You made mine a country song? That’s fantastic!”

“When did you learn how to add twang?” JC arched a brow at her. “Do you even listen to country?”

“Not really, but she was talking and I was taking notes, and by the time the lyrics were done, it just seemed like a country song.” Jen shrugged as the chorus began. “I think it works.”

Commitment
Someone who’ll go the distance
I need somebody with staying power
Who’ll make me go weak in the knees
Commitment
And everything that goes with it
I need honor and love in my life from somebody
Who’s playin’ for keeps

“It more than works. You pretty much nailed it.” Lance nodded, grinning as he sat back in his seat and crossed his arms. “And don’t listen to Jace about the twang. It really sounds natural, and that’ll be a selling point.”

“Well, if it’s got the Mississippi stamp of approval, then it’s a winner.” She winked at him and laughed, then grimaced when pain shot through her hand. “I think it’s time for more ice. How’re you doing over there, Joe Bear?”

“It’s not exactly better, but I don’t think it’s any worse.” He lowered the towel and worked his jaw a bit. “I’ll be all right. I’ve survived bigger fights than that.”

“Whatever you say.” Pushing back her chair, she stood and moved toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna be the wimp who needs more chilling.”

She draped the soaked towel over the rack beside the sink, then turned to find that JC had already found a Ziplock bag and was dropping some cubes in it. “Do you have an Ace bandage? It’ll do better to hold it in place and apply pressure.”

“I don’t know.” She took the bag and sighed as the cold began spreading back through her hand. “There might be one in the cabinet beside the fridge. It looked like a jock had stocked it when I moved in, but I never went through it.”

He dug around the shelves for a minute and came out with a roll of athlete’s tape. “It’s not a bandage, but it should do. Come here.” With a shake of her head, she obediently stepped over to him, holding out her hand. His brow furrowed as his fingers gingerly touched the swollen skin to secure the tape and begin wrapping. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the ER? That looks nasty.”

“I think it’ll be okay.” She wiggled her fingers slowly. “If it was broken, I don’t think I’d be able to move it that much.” A laugh escaped. “Besides, what would I tell them? I think I broke my hand punching a guy?”

“Always have to be the tough one, don’t you?” He finished wrapping and tore the tape, tossing the roll onto the counter.

“Yep.” A smile formed quickly as she leaned against him for half of a hug. “Thanks, Josh.”

“No problem.” His glance moved over to Joey, taking in the painful state of his face, and a different scenario formed in his imagination, prompting a grin as he pulled her closer to him, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I can just imagine Luke Dingess on the receiving end of those fists of fury.” She laughed with him. “For this second, I don’t hate him quite as much.”

By the time the recording of that day’s session had ended, the table and kitchen had been cleared and the guys had adjourned to the basketball court, giving Phyllis hugs of thanks and calls of goodbye as she headed the opposite direction and out the front door, leaving Maggie and Jen to relax in front of the TV.

Maggie leaned over to look at the group in the back yard, then nudged Jen’s foot with her own. “Girl, do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

“Luckier than I deserve, I’m sure.” She glanced up from flipping through her journal, arching an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You’ve got that guy wrapped around your little finger and you don’t even realize it.” A dreamy sigh carried through the room. “I’d give anything to have somebody look at me the way he looks at you.”

“Josh doesn’t look at me any differently than he does anybody else.”

“Oh, shut up. You walk in the room and he lights up.” Maggie bit back a laugh. “You do the same thing. Get the two of you together and it’s basically blinding.”

“Mags …” Jen rolled her eyes and snapped her journal closed. “We’re best friends. That’s it.”

“It sure doesn’t look that way.”

“Look, I know Josh better than anyone on this planet. If he wanted more, he’d say so. He hasn’t, so he doesn’t.”

“Simple as that, huh?”

“Absolutely. Simple as that.”

“So he hasn’t said anything.” Maggie shrugged. “What about you? Don’t you want more?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” Jen turned her gaze down to where the fingers of her left hand were playing with the edges of her ‘bandage’. “It never has, and it never will.”

“That definitely wasn’t a no.” The redhead leaned closer. “Jen … do you have feelings for him?”

“I think I’ve been falling for him since the sixth grade, when I got myself grounded so he could go to the prom with that Patterson brat.” She let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. “He and I both know the type of girl he’s going to end up with, and it’s definitely not me. The only thing she and I will have in common is hair color. He tends to lean toward brunette for his girlfriends.”

“How can you say that? You’re perfect for each other.”

“What I say right now goes nowhere else, understand?” Her gaze locked on her friend, serious and unflinching. “You’ve got to swear. Nobody else knows about this, not even my mother. I’ll know if it gets around.”

“I swear. It stays right here.”

“Well, you’ve seen the pictures, so you know he took me to my senior prom.” She waited for Maggie’s nod. “When he was dropping me off after the dance, he kissed me goodnight and totally rocked my world – we’re talking electric here, Mags – and I was confused at first, positive that it was all in my head. A few days later, I’d actually gotten up the nerve to talk to him and see if maybe it wasn’t just me. You know how jittery I get when I’m nervous and this was twice as bad, so I decided to walk over to his house. All of the houses on our block have trees on the back property line, so there’s a little bit of a forest in the middle.”

“Well, we’ve gone back and forth so much, there’s a path connecting our houses that takes you right beside the windows of their dining room.” Her knees came up so that her arms could hug around them. “When I got there, the windows were open and he was on the phone with somebody. I don’t know who, but it doesn’t matter, because I’ll never forget what he said.” She swallowed hard. “‘My God, this can’t be happening. You’re joking, right? I kissed my best friend! Ugh, this is the worst thing that could happen.’” With a grimace, she blinked back tears. “I know without a doubt that Josh is the last person on earth who would ever intentionally hurt me. He didn’t know I was there, so he said exactly what he was thinking, and I got the message, loud and clear.”

“Oh, Jen. Did you still go in and talk to him?”

“How could I? I’d just heard him say that kissing me was the worst thing he could’ve done.” She shook her head. “The only reason he’d taken me to the dance in the first place was because my jerk of a boyfriend had dumped me weeks before and Mom called him when nobody else asked me to go. Yes, he’s the best friend I’ve ever had, but hindsight is definitely twenty-twenty, and I know a pity date when I’ve been on one. I’m pretty sure he even tried to tell me so, in a roundabout way.” Her teeth worked over her bottom lip. “The next day, he got on a plane back to Florida while I was at school, even though he was supposed to stay almost another week. He gave up days he could’ve spent with his family just to get away from me, Mags. And he didn’t even really say goodbye, just left a message on my answering machine that he had to go.” The tape on her hand caught the tear that escaped. “Two weeks later, he was dating some girl he’d met in the audience of the show. Andrea was exactly his type: tall, built, tan and photographer ready.”

“Have you ever actually felt yourself changing?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Something about me was different after that. I think … I think I lost some of my joy. I filled three journals that summer and I could tell that some of my spark was gone. I’ve never gotten it back, and I honestly don’t think he ever noticed. It was my birthday before I saw him again, and it took nearly that entire time to make myself feel normal around him again. Or at least as normal as you can be when you’re pining away for something you know you can’t have.” Watery brown eyes came up to meet concerned green. “More than half of the songs on my shelves are for him, whether they’re happy or heartbroken. And he has absolutely no clue, because telling him could ruin everything. So, yes … it’s safe to say that what I want has absolutely no bearing on what happens between us. If more is in the cards, it’ll have to come from him, because I don’t have it in me to be even one of the worst things in his life when he’s so many of the best things in mine.”

“My God, Jen. I had no idea.” That green gaze glanced out the back doors again, watching as JC passed the ball to Justin, who made a three-point shot as the court lights came on in the twilight. Something about Jen’s side of this story just didn’t fit. From what she knew of him, Maggie felt fairly sure in her assessment that JC found Jen to be one of the brightest spots in his world. It was obvious that he went out of his way to be near her, finding ways to touch her, giving her his undivided attention. She’d seen the special smile he reserved just for Jen, knew that sparkle in his eye when he looked at her was a hint at feelings he held close to his heart … but something had obviously gone very wrong somewhere down the road. Biting her lip, she turned back to her friend. “How do you do it? I know I couldn’t.”

“He’s the most important person in the world to me. As needy as it sounds, I’m not me without him.” A small smile curved her lips. “We’ve always been clingy, he flirts with me all the time and I give it right back – no matter how crazy it makes me – so things won’t get awkward. Truth is, I love him and as pathetic as it makes me, I’ll take whatever part of him I can get, for as long as he’s willing. And when he finds the girl who’ll take my place, then I’ll do the best thing for him and let him go. I’ll step aside because I know I’ll be okay as long as she makes him happiest.” She laughed softly. “I guess Brian’s song was a bit of foreshadowing on my part, too, huh?”

“So, then … what? You just carry on like all is well?”

“Exactly. Because in some twisted way, it really is. He’s in my life right now and that’s all I’m going to hope for.” Jen stood from the couch, glancing toward the game outside as she headed to her office. “And since there’s nothing more I can do about him, I figure my efforts right now are probably best spent on being sure I’m not making a huge mistake in signing that contract.”