2. What Are You Doing?
“...the wind beneath my wiiiiiings.” I love the acoustics inside the sound booth. My singing sounds crisp and clear, not a hint of an echo. I suck in a deep breath to start singing “The Rose,” but the door flies open, and I almost fall off the stool I’m perched on.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Meredith rakes her gaze over me from shoes to glasses, and she makes a face like she doesn’t like what she sees. Wasn’t making that face when her lips were locked on mine.
I paste a smile on my face. “Testing the acoustics. It’s the one place in The Base I’ve never been.”
She folds her arms across her chest. If she could, she’d probably hiss at me. “The acoustics are perfect, and what would you know about it anyway?”
“Okay, you’re the resident sound boss. I defer to your expertise, but don’t you ever get the urge to step inside here and sing your lungs out in the middle of the workday?”
She straightens. “No.” It’s tentative, like maybe she’s not telling the truth.
“If you were to come in here and sing your lungs out, what would you sing? No, wait, let me guess. Leonard Cohen?” She starts to shake her head but stops. “Siouxsie and the Banshees?” That earns me the tiniest of lip quirks. “Opera?”
“What were you singing, if you’re so curious?”
“Your deflection game is next level.” She raises an eyebrow and flicks a piece of her silky black hair away from her lips. I’m temporarily distracted until I pull my eyes away from her mouth. “If you have to know, I was working my way through the Bette Midler songbook.”
She blinks at me like I’m an alien who teleported into her sound booth. “Bette Midler?”
“The Divine Miss M to us mere mortals. Maybe you’ve heard of her most popular hit...” I open my mouth to start singing.
“I swear to god if you try to explain who Bette Midler is I’m going to lock you in here and watch you starve. I didn’t grow up in a vacuum—of course I know who she is. What I don’t understand is why you’re singing her songs in my sound booth.”
“Because I don’t know enough Streisand to do her justice.” I resist the urge to snap my own suspenders.
Meredith’s lips disappear into a line. She’s either fighting a laugh or wondering how to hide my body. Either way, her deep brown eyes flash with something heated. Probably anger. Then she lets out a sigh.
“I have a lot of work to do, Stuart.” As much as I like hearing her say my name, there’s no mistaking the exasperation in her voice. It stings a little, but I smile anyway.
“Right, I’ll get out of your hair.” I brush by her, my shoulder skimming hers in the tight space of her office. I hear the intake of her breath as the first sparks of heat shoot through my body. It’s like the fireworks on New Year’s but spreading under my skin instead of across the sky.
I hum “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” as I leave her office. At least I’ll always have Bette.