Page 20 of Rock My Girl

I giggled. "In leaf green pajamas, with my hair piled on top of my head? Not likely."

"Extra sexy," he said. Then he chuckled. "Stop distracting me. I need to tell you what the label said today."

"What's up?"

"I ran a couple of the new and improved songs past Frank, and he actually grinned."

"I assume that's good?"

Ford laughed. "Frank is a very intense guy, to the point that sometimes he comes across as an asshole. He usually nods, shakes his head, and that's pretty much it. Today he actually gave me a gigantic smile. It's pretty much like winning the lottery."

"That's amazing. So the label is going to pay more attention to the album?"

"Lots more. But there's another album from a different label dropping that they want to get ahead of, so getting this one recorded is going to be a bit of a rush."

"Oh. Well, is your band pretty quick at learning your songs?"

"I've already sent them the scratch tracks, and they'll probably have them all down before morning. So it's just you and I going through the lyrics word for word. By the time they have the rest of the tracks down, you and I can just breeze in and record vocals."

"Oh wow." I hadn’t realized that I would be allowed to actually go into the recording studio, but that sounded exciting. "Do you really want me there when you're recording your vocals?"

"Of course! I was thinking that it would probably make it easier for you if you watched me do a song, then you can record your take directly after. Unless you'd like to work with a vocal coach for a couple of days. Personally I love your voice exactly the way it is. But if it would make you feel more confident…"

I sat bolt upright. "Wait. You want my actual voice on your album?"

"Yes. Goes without saying."

Time stopped for a few seconds. "But wouldn't it make more sense to get the real vocalist to sing them? The person who would be coming on tour with you?"

It was Ford's turn to pause. "Baby, you are the vocalist. I don't want anyone but you."

Jumping to my feet, I began pacing around the bedroom. "Ford, I'm not really a singer."

"Of course you are. You have an incredible voice. And it's also that tone and energy you bring to it. Everyone who's heard it just loves you."

"But…I have work of my own."

"Frank is going through the details with the label right now. You're going to be paid for the photos for the album cover, writing credits on the songs, your time in the studio, plus the tour. You’ll be fine for money. But if there are a couple of clients that you don't want to drop completely, you can bring your laptop everywhere we go. There's always high speed Wi-Fi at the studio, the hotels, the venues."

"Ford… " My heart was pounding too quickly and I couldn't pull in enough air.

"Just breathe, baby," he said soothingly. "You don't have to agree to anything right this second. We can find out all of the details, and you can basically make a list of demands for them. They are that excited about the project now."

"List of demands?" This was getting weirder and weirder.

"Yes. Like, I don't know…if you need one of the interns from the studio to come in and water your plants while you're on tour. If you like hotel rooms with south facing windows for whatever reason. Whatever you need to be comfortable, they'll make it happen."

I certainly wasn't going to turn into some sort of diva who couldn't possibly hit the stage without her exotic French sparkling water in a hand-cut crystal glass served by my own private butler. Especially since I wasn't a real singer. The fact that I was working on this project at all was a complete fluke to begin with.

"Ford, this isn't me. I'm not a performer. It's not what I do."

"God, baby, I wish I was there to hold you."

I was actually glad that he wasn't with me right now. I knew that I would melt into his arms and just believe that he was going to make everything okay.

"We'll talk to everyone tomorrow, you can think through what all you might need to be comfortable, and we'll go from there, okay?"

I took a slow deep breath. "Sure."

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