Chapter 15
TJ
MAKE ME FEEL OLD
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I want to ignore it.
The only reason I’m even up this late is because I’m too restless to sleep and came to my studio to just clear my head.
When I pull my phone out and see my brother’s name, a smile crosses my face.
We might give each other shit all the time, but we’re still always there for each other.
“Hey, what’s up?” I answer.
“Well, nothing’s really changed since the last time we talked. So same old shit I guess.”
I huff a laugh. “Fair enough, so why are you calling?”
“You’re still coming up in a couple weeks for the closing, right?” he asks.
OK. I guess it is business.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I say, grabbing a chair and spinning it around toward the window of my studio.
“Good, because Slade won’t shut up about this place.
He wants to have a party to celebrate closing on the building and starting construction.
He keeps saying you have to be there.” Jake drags out the word have as if there will be dire consequence if I don’t show my face.
Judging by his mildly irritated tone, I can just picture how Slade has been hounding him in his typical persistent, methodical way.
Better him than me. I guess that’s what I pay my little brother for though.
“You said before construction? He knows it’s just going to be a vacant shell of a building, right?”
He snorts a laugh. “Yeah. Apparently, he’s got a whole plan for that. Something about an industrial warehouse vibe before the renovations. I think his exact words were ‘Seattle Grunge meets New American Cuisine’. So you’re good if I invite the typical crowd?”
The typical crowd is his code for the marketing and PR team that will be there, along with my old bandmates and crew.
I don’t mind seeing the ones I’m on good terms with like Vince, but the others I prefer to avoid unless there’s a compelling reason to see them.
I guess this is one of those times. Jake has known them almost as long as I have, but he wasn’t around them every day like I was, especially while he was in college and I was touring.
That’s probably why he’s on better terms with most of them than me.
Still, I appreciate that he asks, given how much I’ve removed myself from those circles.
But those guys are good for business if we’re trying to build hype around a new restaurant I’m investing in.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I reply.
“Cool. Well, that’s all I needed.” He pauses for a second. “So how’s it going with Grace?”
I hear the teasing tone of his voice, but I’m not going to give in.
“Oh,” I reply with mock surprise, dragging out the word. “So, that wasn’t the real reason you called? Let me guess. You wanted to check and make sure I haven’t scared her off yet?”
“I mean it’s been almost two weeks since you hired her. So…” His voice trials off in question.
I groan. “To answer your question, she’s great. She’ll probably be reaching out to you tomorrow actually. She finished the list for this year.”
I think about the list that Grace showed me at lunch today.
I liked her plan. She’s thorough and does good work and I’m not surprised the least bit.
It was clear she did her homework on me based on the organizations she picked.
But I can also tell she puts her heart into it.
I wasn’t lying when I said I liked her plan and I wanted to make it happen.
But something is still nagging at me in the back of my mind.
“Hey, on that note, can you send me the list of charities we gave to for the last few years?”
“I already sent them to Grace. Wait, are you actually going to read something I send you for a change?” he says with mock incredulity.
I deserved that one. He knows I never read anything, but that’s only because I trust him with all of this. “Very funny. Just send them.”
“Alright. Anything else?” he says.
I’m about to hang up, already somewhat dreading the upcoming party for the restaurant when an idea crosses my mind.
“Actually, yeah. There is one other thing. Put Grace on the guest list for Slade’s party.”
Jake’s laugh comes through loud and clear. “Are you bringing her as a date?”
Again, I walked right into that one. “No, I’m her boss.
And do I need to remind you that I’m your boss too?
” I wish I was bringing her as a date is what goes through my mind, so again, I settle for a half truth trying to fool my brother and myself.
“I just want her to get to see this side of my business a bit, maybe meet you in person too.”
That’s assuming she says yes. But I think she’d like Seattle.
She told me she’s never been before and I know how much she likes to travel.
Seeing her in Cowgirl Coffee, it was so easy to picture her at home in one of the neighborhood coffee shops back in Seattle I used to spend so much time in, sipping on her hot tea.
That’s why I made sure she had tea here in my office.
I want her to feel at home around me. I want her to be comfortable with me and feel like she can come and go as she pleases.
“Sure thing there, Boss,” he says with a tone making it clear I’m not fooling him either. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“Whatever, ass. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” If Jake and Sutton can both pick up on how I really feel about her, I’m clearly not as good at hiding my feelings as I thought. I can’t help it though and I don’t know if I want to anymore.
“Love you too,” he replies with a chuckle before hanging up.
With that interruption over, I turn my attention back to what brought me into my studio in the first place.
For the first time in years, I find myself looking down at the notepad in front of me.
I remember how the blank pages staring back at me were once a reminder of how I fell out of love with music.
It felt like a day came where I felt nothing for it anymore.
There was a time when it was my emotional outlet, a way to turn the big, complicated feelings from my childhood and early adult life into something that made sense to me.
Somehow, I could turn a jumble of notes about what I was feeling or going through into lyrics to help me process my feelings.
The truth is though, I haven’t had feelings like that in ages, ones that felt so intense and worthy of being sorted out and explored.
Lately though, I’ve started to feel that itch again.
I reach out to the old acoustic guitar in front of me, the one Sutton was goofing off with on the day of the wedding, when I was hiding out in here.
I run my finger over one of the frets. My hands might not be worn as much as when I played every day on tour or in the studio, but those calluses are still there.
Even now, the sensation of those strings running over my fingertips is a feeling that is so familiar but so foreign all at once.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flicker of light. I look out the window of my studio toward the guesthouse and see the glow from the TV. It’s nearly midnight and suddenly I’m glad I couldn’t sleep tonight. I pull my phone out, grinning to myself as I type out a message.
Me: Are you sleeping in the guesthouse? I know I’m a pretty great boss, but I seem to remember you declining that part of your generous “benefits package”.
As much as I enjoy teasing her, I’m glad she’s making herself comfortable here.
She’s welcome to use the guesthouse however she wants.
That’s why I built it in the first place, even if I don’t have many guests.
But I know that she appreciates her independence and she’s confident enough to tell me to fuck off if I push her too much.
Three dots appear on the screen and my knee bounces in anxious anticipation.
OK. I think I can admit to myself where at least some of the feelings that brought me into my studio tonight are coming from.
Rainbow: If I’m texting you, I’m not asleep.
I start to type something out, but three dots appear again, freezing me in my tracks.
Rainbow: I’ve got wine. Do you want to come hang out?
Fuck me. This is dangerous.
It took me all of two seconds to realize that when it comes to Grace Chapman, I have no resolve. I was practically sprinting out of my studio as I texted back to say I was on my way over to the guesthouse.
Way to play it cool and look like a desperate weirdo, Tommy. But I was drawn to her and that light in my guesthouse like a moth to a flame.
When I get to the door of the guesthouse, I pause for a second, trying to catch my breath and not be so obvious that I was just running through my own house and across the patio to get here.
Seriously, I work out. I shouldn’t be out of breath, even at high altitude like this.
I knock before walking in the door to find Grace pouring herself a glass of wine at the kitchen island.
“Hey.” She smiles and gives me a little wave.
“Do you want a drink, Boss?” she asks, holding the bottle of white wine out to me in offer.
“Is that my wine or yours?” I ask playfully. “And really, stop calling me boss.”
I know she’s teasing me, but I still feel a knot in my stomach when she calls me ‘boss'.
She rolls her eyes and smirks to herself. “Fine, TJ. I assumed my benefits package didn’t include wine. This is just left over from the wedding. Veronica left some of her bridal party stash out here. I’m just using your glasses.”
“Pour a glass for me then. Your brother might only drink yellow jackets, but Veronica has great taste in wine.”
Grace pours a second glass and steps out from behind the island.
Dangerous was an understatement.