Page 80 of Not Another Love Song

“Literally, Xander.” She winked.

“Exactly,” he said in all seriousness. Like he didn’t understand the joke. Like he truly believed Xander was more than a persona. Gwen nodded, taking note.

“I actually had an email from my agent this morning.” Alex turned to the desktop, clicking through windows. She had the feeling he was eager to change the subject. “I asked him about using the recording studio for Fugue Number One. He said next weekend is good, he just needs us to come in and sign a few things first.”

Alex turned to her, eyes bright, but her skin prickled.

“Your agent owns a recording studio?”

Alex nodded. “The Roses record there. He has his own label that we’re covered under.”

Gwen didn’t know much about the recording industry, but there was something strange about how entrenched Alex’s agent was in his career.

He must have read something from her face. “Do you still want to record with me?”

She shook out her tense shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I just… What kind of paperwork? Will he own the recording after this?”

“No. Nothing like that. Probably the usual. Liability waivers and things like that. Lorenz likes to be thorough.”

“Lorenz?” Gwen tilted her head. “Calvin Lorenz? I met him. He gave me his card.”

Which she’d torn up at Nathan’s insistence.

Alex’s eyes narrowed on her. “When did you meet him?”

“At the Plaza after the anniversary party.” She remembered his cold gaze and soft hands. The memory was enough to make her shiver.

That was Alex’s agent?

“What did he say to you?”

Gwen looked up at the bite in his tone. Alex’s brows were drawn together, and his jaw was tight. She suddenly felt like she was being chastised.

“Nothing. He complimented me on my performance and gave me his card. I never called him, though—”

“Good.”

Alex stood from the computer chair and went to the kitchen, making omelets more loudly than necessary.

She frowned at the door. Good? Was there a reason he didn’t want her to have an agent? Or was it that he didn’t want her to have his agent?

Later that afternoon, Gwen was still trying to figure out Alex’s mood as they headed downtown to Lorenz’s studios in the East Village. Alex held her hand in the cab, pointing out food places he wanted to take her to, but his answers were clipped anytime she brought up Lorenz.

They arrived at a newer building, standing ostentatiously among the older brownstones, and walked the stairs down to the basement. The door opened to deep red walls and black furniture. The low ceilings seemed to press down on them. Alex nodded to a dark-haired boy behind the desk and led her down a hallway lined with pictures and framed awards. He knocked on a door at the end of the hall, and Lorenz’s voice bid them enter.

Calvin Lorenz sat behind a large desk, focused on his multiple screens, clicking a pen in an odd staccato rhythm. As Alex closed the door behind them, he looked up, and his light blue gaze landed on her. He smiled, the creases around his eyes unmoving.

“Xander. Glad you could make it in,” he said. “Miss Jackson, it’s so lovely to meet you again.”

He stood from his chair and grasped her hand in both of his—soft, like he’d never picked up an instrument in his life.

“Likewise, Mr. Lorenz.”

He gestured for them to sit, and his eyes dragged over the two of them, calculating.

“So, Xander,” he said, leaning back on his desk and crossing his legs, “you want to record?”

“Yes, I’ve been writing a lot more. I’d like to utilize the studios for my demo tracks. I can pay the engineers myself if need be—”

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