Chapter Seventeen
Jinnie
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I WAKE UP WITH JACK’S back to me. That’s weird. Usually when we sleep together, he keeps me snug against him. I roll to my side and gently reach out, gently tugging his shoulder. He rolls to his back and murmurs something. I assume it’s probably a lyric. I watch him sleeping. He’s so relaxed. It’s getting harder to marry the two different Jacks I know. I’ve been inundated with pictures of him and the many videos of him on social media with the man next to me.
This is the Jack I know. That other guy is not him. But I’m beginning to think the other guy is quickly becoming the real Jack. He’s spending a lot of time being Jack Hayes the rockstar instead of Jack Hayes the kid from a dairy farm.
My notebook sits open on the nightstand, filled with lyrics we scribbled last night between kisses and laughter. Jack’s messy handwriting tangles with mine, words crossed out and rewritten, chords scribbled in the margins. It feels like we’ve created something real. Something lasting. He was on a roll last night. He just kept coming up with new music. Between making love and writing, we were up most of the night.
I’m not complaining.
Jack stirs, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks before his eyes open. He looks at me, a slow smile spreads across his face when he sees me watching.
“Morning,” he says.
I lean over to kiss him. His hands slide up my bare back. “We should get up,” I murmur, even as my fingers twist in his hair.
He groans, pulling me closer. “Why?”
“Because you have an album to finish.”
Jack nips at my bottom lip. “Later.”
But we do get up—eventually—and over coffee and toast we finish the last two songs. His fingers dance across the guitar strings, bringing our shared words to life. I love this. I love watching him create. More importantly, I love being part of the process. It feels right. Like I’ve stumbled onto something I didn’t know I was searching for.
“You’re staring,” Jack says without looking up.
I take a sip of coffee to hide my smile. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Marketing,” I admit. “How songs are sold. The branding behind it all.”
Jack’s fingers still on the strings. He looks up at me with surprise. “You’d be amazing at that.”
Before I can respond, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen and sighs. “Studio wants me in an hour.”
“Really?”
He nods. “They have been chomping at the bit to get this thing done.”
He leans back in his chair, his bare feet propped up on the edge of the table, completely at ease. I take another bite of my toast, watching him. There’s a confidence in the way he moves now, in the way he carries himself, that wasn’t there before. It’s not a bad thing—not exactly—but it’s different. It’s new.
“I guess I should hop in the shower,” I say and down the last of my coffee.
“We don’t have to rush,” he says, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Let them wait.”
I pause, my eyebrows lifting slightly. “Wait?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah. I’m the star, aren’t I? They can cool their heels for a bit.”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and awkward. I put my mug down. My stomach twists, but I don’t say anything. Not yet.
Jack doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation. He just keeps talking, his voice light and easy, like this is normal. Like it’s okay. “Besides, they need me more than I need them. Now that I’ve got a whole new set of music, they’re going to want me.
This isn’t him. Or maybe it is now. I don’t know.
“Still, I think I’ll shower,” I say.
“I’ll text Liz and tell her I need two hours,” he says. “Then I’ll join you in the shower.”
I want to argue, but this is his world. If he wants to put them off, that’s his choice. For all I know, it’s normal.
I step into the bathroom. The thing is the size of my whole house. The shower is big enough to have a party in. I try to shake off the unease that’s settled in my chest. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe this is just how things work in his world now. I set the temperature on the digital thermostat outside the shower and step inside.
The water is hot against my skin, and I let it wash over me, trying to clear my head. I hear the door creak open, and a moment later, Jack steps into the shower behind me. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me close. I lean back into him, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease a little.
“You okay?” he murmurs against my ear.
“Yeah,” I say, though it’s only half true. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
I hesitate, then turn to face him. Water streams down his face, and he pushes his hair back, looking at me with those beautiful eyes that always seem to see right through me.
“Jack,” I start carefully, “do you think... all this is changing you?”
He frowns slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean...” I search for the right words. “Before all this, you wouldn’t have made them wait like that. You’d have been ready to go as soon as they called.”
He shrugs, his hands sliding up my arms. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve learned I don’t have to jump every time they snap their fingers. And I want to spend more time with you.”
I can’t really fault him for that. I smile. “Then we should make the most of our time together.”
His grin is instant, wicked, and it makes my stomach flutter. His mouth closes over mine and I forget all about the fact we’re supposed to be somewhere.
We dress and head downstairs. There’s another waiting car. “Do you drive anywhere?” I ask him.
“No. I’m thinking about getting a car soon, but it’s easier not having to deal with traffic and parking.”
I nod with understanding. When we arrive at the building that houses the label’s offices, there’s a mad dash to get Jack into the studio.
Dex is sitting at the control board when we walk in. He glances at me. “Ah, now I see why I was called in on my day off.”
I frown. “Why?”
“The muse has inspired our little star,” he replies.
I smile. Jack winks and gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Let’s do this,” he says.
I sit down on the couch and settle in. I’m excited. This time, I know the songs and they are damn good. Even though I might be a little biased.
Jack sits on the stool in the booth. He’s got the new guitar instead of his old one. Dex gives him a thumbs up. Jack starts singing words we wrote together. My heart blooms with love for him. Yes, it’s harder than hell to be away from him, but I can see how much he loves this.
And he’s so good.
Dex glances over at me with a huge smile. “Kid’s on fire today. I don’t know what you did, but I haven’t seen him like this since he first got into the studio.”
I grin and lean forward to watch him. It’s intoxicating. Maybe this could be my world too. Maybe he and I can be a real team. I don’t expect his label to hire me for marketing, but one day, maybe a label will hire me.
Jack finishes the song. “What do you think?” he asks.
Dex pushes a button and leans forward to speak into a microphone. “I think we got it,” he says. “Ready for the next one?”
Jack looks at me and smiles. “I’m ready.”
He strums the first few chords of the next song and starts to sing. While he’s singing, the door opens, which is just a little rude.
I look up and see Liz. I inwardly groan. I don’t like her. I’ve tried and it just isn’t going to work. She strides in wearing another one of her shorts skirts and high heels. She doesn’t look at me as she takes the seat beside me, crossing her long legs.
“Jinnie,” she says. “How quaint to see you again.”
I force a smile. “Liz.”
Through the glass, Jack starts another take, oblivious to the tension on this side of the glass.
Liz examines her manicure. “I suppose we should thank you. The songs are much better with your touch. He sent me some of the rough cuts. I guess he needed his crutch one more time.”
Something in her tone makes my skin prickle. “We had fun writing them.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” She finally turns to me, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. “But you understand, now that we have what we need, you’ll be going home.”
The words land like a slap. “What?”
Liz sighs, as if explaining something to a child. “Jack’s through with you, sweetheart. He got what he wanted. The execs and I agreed to have him bring you down here to help him. But now that we’ve got two albums out of him, we won’t need any new music for a while. We’ll be promoting these albums. And when it does come time for him to start writing again, you’ll be a distant memory.”
My throat tightens. Through the glass, Jack strums the final chord and glances up, waving at us. Liz waves back, her fingers fluttering. She’s got that fake smile firmly in place. From where Jack is sitting, he’s thinking everything is just great.
I sit frozen. I don’t want him to worry. He’s doing so well in there.
“Jack doesn’t need me,” I say. “He’s got the music in him. It seems people around here are trying to stifle his unique sound. I help bring it out.”
She snorts. “You’re what, eighteen?”
“Nineteen.”
“A child. Trust me, once Jack hits the road, things are going to change.”
“Yeah? How so?”
She frowns at me. “Didn’t he tell you?” Liz asks.
“Tell me what?”
“Oh dear,” she says, her voice dripping faux sympathy. “We’re together. Have been for months.” She flashes a diamond tennis bracelet. “He’s talking about proposing.”
The room tilts. Jack’s still in the booth, adjusting his headphones, completely unaware.
“If that’s the case, you’re probably pretty pissed he and I spent the night together,” I reply.
It’s a low blow, but dammit, I’m hurt. And angry.
“And while he was with you, he was thinking about me,” she says just above a whisper. “I know because he told me. He knew what you would want and he was prepared to give it to you in order to get what we wanted.”
My mind flashes back to his back to me this morning. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Liz stands, smoothing her skirt. “The jet’s ready whenever you are. I’ll have someone drive you.”
I should argue. Should demand to hear it from Jack himself. But the seed of doubt takes root, fed by every unanswered text, every week of silence.
And when Jack emerges from the booth, sweaty and grinning, it’s Liz he looks at first.
“Did you hear it?” Jack asks her.
“I did. You nailed it. I have a meeting.”
Liz walks out. I stare at Jack trying to see the truth in his eyes. He’s talking to Dex now. I grab my phone from my purse.
“Oh shoot,” I mutter.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asks.
“I have to go.”
“What?”
“There’s an emergency and I need to get home. You stay. Finish. I’ll get a cab to the airport.”
“Jinnie, wait! What’s going on?”
“It’s my parents,” I lie. I walk to the door.
He grabs my hand, pulling me against him. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“Yes, fine. You’re killing it in there.”
“I’ll buy you a ticket,” he says.
“No thanks. I have to go.”
Jack pulls me into a hug. “Come back soon?”
I bury my face in his shoulder, breathing him in one last time. “We’ll see.”