thick, warm honey. “Well,” she said, trying to do whatever she could to brighten the situation, “I probably shouldn’t go home with you on the first date anyway.”
Brenton laughed bitterly. “But you would have, wouldn’t you?”
Amber bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, probably I would have. And it would have been a mistake. It’s worth waiting for, right? It’s not like we’re horny teenagers.”
Brenton smiled wryly. “Teenagers, no.” He opened the car door, sighing gustily as he let her in. Amber watched him walk around the front end of the car, composing himself before he opened the driver’s side to climb in next to her. “I’ll drop you off at home and go get my baby. I’m sorry, Am-bear.”
Amber shrugged. “You’re a dad. That means sometimes you don’t get laid. Besides, I got a reputation to maintain—or at least to salvage.”
They rode in near-silence to the apartment that Amber shared with her mother and she went straight to her bedroom, thinking of the tension in Brenton’s face and body when he had taken the call. She slipped out of her dress and shoes, wrapping a robe around herself and sitting down at her desk. Picking up a pen, she flipped her notebook open to a blank page and started to write quickly, thinking of what Cara had told her, what she had seen of Brenton’s obviously broken relationship with his in-laws, what he had said in the wake of the phone call he had received. She thought about going home with him, about what it meant that they were waiting, and filled the page with lyrics.
By the time she wiped off her makeup, wrapped her hair in a scarf, and washed her face to go to bed, Amber was so exhausted that she didn’t even think of her ex; all she could think of was the sad, angry look in Brenton’s eyes when he spoke about his mother-in-law, the look of regret, and the way he had asked if she would have gone home with him if it weren’t for the interruption. She fell into a deep, not-quite-contented sleep, thinking of how it would be different when they got together again. At least, she thought as she finally dozed off, she knew for a fact that they would have another date together. She just hoped that the next one wouldn’t be interrupted. Maybe Brent could get his own parents to watch Felicity instead of his in-laws. That might improve their odds of ending up in bed together.
Chapter Five
“All right, Amber, try that take again,” David said from the control room of Studio A at SugarHill. “It was good—it was really good, but we want great, right?” After months of back-and-forth, and development, it was finally time to start recording, and for Amber to come out of her self-imposed exile from the music community. She had been hard at work in the studio five days a week; even when she didn’t have vocals, there was plenty for her to do. She and David were working together to make sure every aspect of every song was exactly as it should be—which meant that she needed to be there.
David had encouraged her every step of the way, encouraging her to pen more lyrics, to explore more and more of the creative aspects of her music. “I really like what you’re doing here,” he would say, pointing to a melody she had come up with. He took her basic piano playing or the beat she had come up with from the samples she had and built it up, overlaying effects, different instruments, everything that they could come up with. Amber wanted a raw, pure sound—but she didn’t want it to sound cheap.
The constraints of developing and recording a new album had kept her relationship with Brenton casual—and so had his responsibilities. If she had had a regular nine-to-five job, it might have been easier to coordinate their schedules, but Felicity, at two, had real and legitimate demands on her father’s time. They had seen each other maybe two dozen times in three months, but Amber was happy with that; even though she knew that she was in love with him,
Brenton laughed bitterly. “But you would have, wouldn’t you?”
Amber bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, probably I would have. And it would have been a mistake. It’s worth waiting for, right? It’s not like we’re horny teenagers.”
Brenton smiled wryly. “Teenagers, no.” He opened the car door, sighing gustily as he let her in. Amber watched him walk around the front end of the car, composing himself before he opened the driver’s side to climb in next to her. “I’ll drop you off at home and go get my baby. I’m sorry, Am-bear.”
Amber shrugged. “You’re a dad. That means sometimes you don’t get laid. Besides, I got a reputation to maintain—or at least to salvage.”
They rode in near-silence to the apartment that Amber shared with her mother and she went straight to her bedroom, thinking of the tension in Brenton’s face and body when he had taken the call. She slipped out of her dress and shoes, wrapping a robe around herself and sitting down at her desk. Picking up a pen, she flipped her notebook open to a blank page and started to write quickly, thinking of what Cara had told her, what she had seen of Brenton’s obviously broken relationship with his in-laws, what he had said in the wake of the phone call he had received. She thought about going home with him, about what it meant that they were waiting, and filled the page with lyrics.
By the time she wiped off her makeup, wrapped her hair in a scarf, and washed her face to go to bed, Amber was so exhausted that she didn’t even think of her ex; all she could think of was the sad, angry look in Brenton’s eyes when he spoke about his mother-in-law, the look of regret, and the way he had asked if she would have gone home with him if it weren’t for the interruption. She fell into a deep, not-quite-contented sleep, thinking of how it would be different when they got together again. At least, she thought as she finally dozed off, she knew for a fact that they would have another date together. She just hoped that the next one wouldn’t be interrupted. Maybe Brent could get his own parents to watch Felicity instead of his in-laws. That might improve their odds of ending up in bed together.
Chapter Five
“All right, Amber, try that take again,” David said from the control room of Studio A at SugarHill. “It was good—it was really good, but we want great, right?” After months of back-and-forth, and development, it was finally time to start recording, and for Amber to come out of her self-imposed exile from the music community. She had been hard at work in the studio five days a week; even when she didn’t have vocals, there was plenty for her to do. She and David were working together to make sure every aspect of every song was exactly as it should be—which meant that she needed to be there.
David had encouraged her every step of the way, encouraging her to pen more lyrics, to explore more and more of the creative aspects of her music. “I really like what you’re doing here,” he would say, pointing to a melody she had come up with. He took her basic piano playing or the beat she had come up with from the samples she had and built it up, overlaying effects, different instruments, everything that they could come up with. Amber wanted a raw, pure sound—but she didn’t want it to sound cheap.
The constraints of developing and recording a new album had kept her relationship with Brenton casual—and so had his responsibilities. If she had had a regular nine-to-five job, it might have been easier to coordinate their schedules, but Felicity, at two, had real and legitimate demands on her father’s time. They had seen each other maybe two dozen times in three months, but Amber was happy with that; even though she knew that she was in love with him,
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