Page 34 of Another Fox Bites the Dust

No need for that nonsense here

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop the surprised laugh from escaping. He’s still playing. The song changes, the tune morphing between one chord and the next into one of the songs I’ve already heard.

He keeps going, segueing into new songs, different bits and pieces. I prop my head back against the cabinet, shut my eyes, and listen, letting his voice flow over me.

The stress of the past half-hour ebbs with each passing moment. His voice is truly incredible. Low and soothing, it’s like a deep velvet stroke brushing against my skin.

I pick up my laptop and start jotting down notes.

When the last chord strikes and his voice tapers off, silence permeates the room. My ass is numb, but I’m a lot more hopeful about this collaboration than I was thirty minutes ago.

“Mindy?”

“Yes. I’m here.” I push myself to stand. “That was great.”

Relief rolls over his face, his shoulders dropping as the tension releases. “Thanks.”

I walk over and sit back in the chair, picking up my laptop. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. But also relieved.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw.

My eyes trace over the movements.

God, he has great hands. Strong forearms, too.

I clear my throat and click something on my laptop that opens a window I don’t need. “How many songs was that? I think about fifteen?”

He nods. “The first one isn’t a real song, though. It’s just something I came up with during residency after staying awake for three days.”

I click rapidly, trying to get to the screen I need without appearing distracted. “We need five more to work on, then we can let Jerry help us choose the top sixteen for the LP.”

“I have most of them written down in here.” He reaches over to the side table and picks up a leather-bound notebook, handing it to me.

I flip through it, noting the bold strokes, his penmanship neat and meticulous. “You have nice handwriting. I thought the ability to scribble was a requirement for the medical profession.”

His mouth twitches. “One of the many reasons I wasn’t a good fit.”

I want to know more, want to ask why he left medicine, what were the many reasons? But instead, I press my lips together.

“Music can be healing, too,” I say instead.

“That’s true. It has definitely been a type of therapy for me. I struggled a lot after Kevin died, and I don’t think I would have come through it without writing.”

I nod, understanding more than he can possibly realize. After Aria died, I had so much guilt. Music was how I coped, along with throwing myself into my work.

Shaking the thoughts away, I focus on the present. Time to get back to business.

“Let’s rank what you have by most complete to least. Then we’ll work through them, one at a time, and get them as ready as possible for recording. That way we can make the best of the time we have with Jerry.” Jerry can be a bit scattered and likes to dive down musical rabbit holes. When I’ve worked with him in the past, I’ve found it’s best to be as organized as possible to keep him on track.

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiles and the dimple appears in his cheek, making my stomach flip.

I swallow hard.

Just business.

ChapterEleven

Mindy

---