by Cat Schield
She busied herself pulling out a plastic container and ladling soup into a bowl. The suite had only the bare minimum of supplies—a coffeemaker, cups and a microwave, in addition to the small refrigerator—but somehow Mia presented a lovely tray with silverware, a linen napkin and even a tiny vase with a daisy in it.
“All this for me?” he signed as she placed the tray on his lap.
“Eat what you can. And there’s vanilla and caramel gelato for dessert if you think you can manage it.”
Instead of joining him on the couch, she sat in a chair nearby and watched him like a hawk as he tasted the soup. “Is it okay? Not too bland?”
“It’s delicious.”
“You should be able to switch to thicker liquids and soft foods tomorrow. Maybe some creamy cauliflower or broccoli soup?” He’d once told her he hated any sort of pureed vegetable, and wondered if she was taking perverse pleasure in his situation. When he scowled at her, she laughed. “Macaroni and cheese?”
“Better.” And then, since he had her full attention, he added, “It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
* * *
Mia drew her knees to her chest, making herself as small as possible. He would have no idea how much his heartfelt words meant to her. Actually, it wasn’t his words as much as the look in his eyes that warmed her from the tips of her fingers down to her toes. In the weeks they’d spent apart, she didn’t remember ever feeling so alone and empty.
“We promised to be there for each other always,” she reminded him, proud that she sounded so steady. He couldn’t know what a struggle it was for her to keep from throwing herself into his arms and confessing how miserable she’d been without him. “What sort of friend would I be if I let you go through this alone?”
She knew Nate had trained himself to catch all sorts of subtle nuances in a singer’s voice: pitch, strain, emotion. And he could do the same with her. While on tour, it had been pretty obvious that she’d been an open book to him. And he’d capitalized. If it had been another man, Mia might have worried that she was being manipulated into falling into bed. But Nate was a straight arrow. Not one person in the industry had anything but glowing comments about him, personally or professionally.
“We did promise.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Which brings me to something I spoke to your father about last night. How would you feel about acting as my translator for the next month until I get my voice back?”
How would she feel? Thrilled. Honored. Slightly terrified. Spending an extended amount of time with him, she was bound to let slip that she was massively crazy about him. Would she have the strength to stick by her original decision if once again he demanded she choose between him and her sister?
The way things were with Ivy at the moment, Mia couldn’t leave her. But the opportunity to sit beside Nate while he worked his magic on Ivy’s album was worth the risk.
“You talked to my father about this?”
“I wanted to make sure you couldn’t use your sister as an excuse to turn me down.”
Mia made a face at him. “And both Ivy and my dad were on board?”
“Your sister wasn’t thrilled, but she understands in order to have me work on her album in a time frame that fits with her schedule, I’m going to need your special skills.”
This arrangement seemed perfect. Ivy would get her album recorded. Mia could keep an eye on her and at the same time spend hours and hours with Nate. A month. It wasn’t a lot of time, but it was more than she’d ever expected to have with him after they’d parted in Sydney.
“When do we start?”
“I’m heading back to Vegas on Tuesday after I check in with Dr. Hanson.”
“I haven’t had a chance to ask. How did your dinner with Ivy and my dad go last night?”
“Did you know your sister wants to record some of Melody’s songs?”
“No.” Ivy had been acting weird since the tour ended. She’d become more demanding than ever, driving Mia half mad with her quicksilver moods and indecision. And now this. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Melody is a talented songwriter and Ivy wants to work with the best.”
“I tried to talk her out of it. What you composed during the tour was fantastic.”
“She thinks my songs are what are preventing her from moving to the next level.” Mia picked at a button on her blouse. “What if she’s right? Maybe trying something new will get her that superstardom she craves.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you ready to take your career to the next level?”
“I don’t think there’s a level above personal assistant.” Mia shot Nate a wry grin. But his question had merit.
What did she want to be doing ten years from now? The thought of continuing to cater to her sister’s every whim made her stomach churn. Mia supposed their father wouldn’t want to manage Ivy forever. Mia could step into that role. Did she want to? If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that more than anything else she wanted to write music.
“I was thinking more in terms of songwriting.”
“It’s not the easiest way to make a living.”
“You might need to combine it with something else to support yourself. Like producing.”
“Do you know how many female producers there are in the industry?”
Nate shook his head.
“Neither does anyone else,” Mia said with a touch of reproach. “Because the number is so small no one bothers to keep track. But it’s around 5 percent.”
“How do you know that?”
“When 1989 won the Grammy for album of the year, Taylor Swift talked in her acceptance speech about empowering women and how we should take credit for our own success.”
Mia had been sitting alone in Ivy’s house, watching the show and feeling a little sick to her stomach at how she hadn’t fought for songwriting credit on either of her twin’s albums.
“Afterward,” Mia continued, “she was criticized for how few women she’d had working on her album. Nineteen people, excluding Taylor, worked on 1989. Of those, only two were women. That means 11 percent of the production team were female. That’s double the percentage of women in the industry.”
“Women are underrepresented. How do you feel about changing that? Do you want to?”
“I won’t lie and say I’ve never thought about it. I’ve been creating beats since Ivy recorded her first single. I know what I would have done to make the song better. Although I’ve sat in on every one of Ivy’s studio sessions, most of what I know about the technical side is from watching other people.”
“Is that a yes or no?”
“That’s a hell yes, for spending several weeks sitting beside you and learning the ins and outs of what makes you such a fantastic producer. Beyond that I can’t say what will happen.”
Nate gave a satisfied nod and didn’t try to push for anything more. Mia was glad for both their sakes. He’d been so frustrated with her that last morning in Sydney when she dug in her heels and refused to even consider taking time off from her sister and spending it with him. She hadn’t seen the point in furthering their relationship when it was all bound to come to an end.
She might have given him a different answer if Nate had been the sort of guy who wanted something casual and would be happy to walk away at any point. If she could’ve sneaked away here and there for a long weekend with him they might still be involved.
But that wasn’t the sort of guy he was. At least not with her. He’d been pretty clear from the start that she was special to him. While he hadn’t minded keeping their blossoming romance a secret during the tour, everything had changed after they’d made love. He’d wanted to see her openly and as often as possible.
Ivy would freak if she ever found out Mia and Nate were i
nvolved. Especially now that she had some crazy idea that she and Nate were destined for each other. Mia wasn’t ready for the upheaval it would cause for her family.
“How’s your throat?” She cleared away his tray and brought him some gelato.
“It’s great.”
But she could tell from the tension in his facial muscles that wasn’t true. “Where are your pain meds?”
“I don’t want to take them.”
Mia was torn. As much as she hated seeing him endure the pain, she had selfish reasons for being glad he’d refused to take the drugs. “Let me get you some water. Everything I’ve read advises staying hydrated.”
She handed him a full water bottle and he signed his thanks. For no good reason, Mia’s eyes prickled with sudden tears. Damn this man for turning her into a sappy mess with a simple thank-you. Not trusting her voice, and since saying “you’re welcome” wasn’t done in American Sign Language, she responded by signing “no problem” before turning away.
Despite his short nap earlier, Nate seemed tired, so after watching television together for an hour, she shooed him toward the bedroom. He caught her hand and, before she knew what he intended, dropped a kiss in her palm.
“Are you going to stay?” he signed, his lips curved into a hopeful smile.
The entreaty in his gray eyes messed with her pulse. She’d come prepared to spend the night, but hadn’t intended on forcing her presence on him.
“I can.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against his solid body. Lean muscle shifted beneath her fingertips as she put her hand on his upper abdomen to keep a little space between them.
“On the couch,” she added with a shaky laugh.
He shook his head and then tipped it to the side and put his free hand against his cheek to sign “bed.” Her toes curled at the thought of lying beside him while he slept, listening to his even breathing, tormented by his powerful frame mere inches away. If they shared a bed there was no way she was going to get any sleep tonight.
Every time she shut her eyes she relived that night in Sydney. Sneaking kisses in out-of-the-way places during the early stages of their secret tour romance had been wildly exciting, but nothing had prepared her for the intensity of his mouth on her breasts or the surprising way his muscles shivered beneath her questing fingers.
The memory of making love with him hadn’t grown the least bit fuzzy with each week that passed. Nor had her feelings for him dulled. For the last month and a half she’d thrown herself into everything that could take her mind off Nate for even a fraction of a second. Sticking close to Ivy made this pretty easy. And late at night Mia wrote music. Heartbreaking songs of love and loss that belonged on a country music album. They weren’t the pop styling of Ivy Bliss.
“Go to bed. I’ll be in after I call Melody and let her know you’re okay. I sent her a text while you napped earlier, but she’ll want some details.”
He kissed the top of her head and stepped back. “Don’t be long.”
“Tyrant.”
“This is nothing. Wait until you see me in the control booth.”
Mia called Melody and gave her an update on how Nate was doing, and shared that she’d be translating for him for the next month so he could keep his production schedule.
“What a great idea. I know Nate signs because his mother is deaf. How did you learn?”
“My older sister, Eva, lost her hearing when she was two.” While Mia and her mother were fluent, Ivy and their father never learned to sign beyond some basic words.
“You haven’t talked about her much. Does she live in California?”
“Chicago. She’s a psychiatrist and a lot of her patients are hearing impaired.” Talking about Eva made sadness swell inside Mia. With her sister so far away and both of them so busy, she didn’t get a chance to see her as often as she’d like.
“How did Nate know you could sign?” Melody jumped in and answered her own question before Mia could say a word. “That’s how you two communicated when Ivy was around.”
Heat crept into Mia’s cheeks. “Sometimes.”
“I never did understand why you and Nate were so determined to keep your relationship a secret.”
“Things like that get complicated around my sister.”
“I mean that crush she had on him was, like, seven years ago. And it’s not as if he encouraged her. Nate said he deleted every one of her texts.”
“Wait...” Mia shook her head and tried to assimilate what Melody was saying. “Ivy had a crush on Nate?” Why hadn’t he ever mentioned this to her?
“I thought you were glued to her every second of every day.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Now I am. Seven years ago I was finishing high school, like every other normal eighteen-year-old, while my twin sister was singing and acting on Broadway.” That had been around the time when Mia’s life stopped being normal. “Tell me what happened?”
“Apparently she got ahold of his phone number and sent him a bunch of texts, telling him how much she loved his music and begging him to come visit her in New York. Didn’t Nate tell you?”
“No.” Why not? Was that why Ivy had gotten so excited about the prospect of working with Nate? Because she’d had a crush on him a long time ago? “Did he go to New York?”
“Ohmygod, no. He wasn’t interested. She isn’t his type. He said he had to talk to your dad before it stopped.”
Was this a contributing factor to why Mia had had to rush to New York and take a GED exam instead of graduating with her class?
“You should ask Nate about it,” Melody continued.
“I will. And speaking of Ivy, Nate said she wants to record some of your songs.” Mia was relieved no grief sounded in her tone. Although she was sad and disappointed that Ivy no longer wanted to record her songs, the fact that Ivy and their father had made the decision and not bothered to tell her was what really hurt.
“Which ones?”
“I have no idea.”
“I guess I’d better decide which songs I want for my album or Ivy will snap up all my best stuff.” Melody laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Tell Nate I’m thinking about him.”
“Will do.”
After Mia hung up, she picked up her overnight bag and headed into the bedroom. Nate was propped up on the pillows, his eyes alert and intense. Mia tried to keep her gaze from lingering on his bare torso, but his broad shoulders and muscular arms awakened her hormones and stirred up her desires. His lower half was hidden by the sheet and she prayed that he was wearing pajama bottoms.
“I’m going to change,” she murmured awkwardly, heading into the bathroom.
“I’ve seen—” he began signing, but she was through the door before he could finish. One nice thing about his inability to speak was that all she had to do to get in the last word was not look at him.
She took her time changing into pajamas. She wasn’t primping, but hoping that he might fall asleep while waiting for her.
He hadn’t. And as she stepped into the bedroom and saw the glint in his eye, she wondered if either of them would feel rested come morning.
Four
“Sexy,” Nate signed, grinning as Mia’s expression contorted into chagrin.
She dodged his mocking smile and glanced down at her bright blue sleepwear. “What did you expect?”
If she thought covering herself from chin to ankle was going to distract him from her luscious body, she’d underestimated her appeal. Then he sighed. Isn’t that what she always did? Undervalued her worth.
“Something see-through and short.”
“Ha. I didn’t ask what you wanted.” She set her bag on the chair next to the window and circled the bed like a wary alley cat confronted by a rival tom. “You’re here to recover and I’m
here to make sure you get lots of rest.”
“Boring.”
“I suggest you appreciate the peace and quiet. You’re going to have my sister in your recording studio for the next month.”
“Come here.” He motioned her closer. “I don’t want to talk about your sister.”
Mia crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me Ivy had a thing for you seven years ago?”
If Nate could’ve made a noise, what would’ve come out of him was a groan. “Because it was seven years ago. And no big deal.”
“You rejected my sister. Do you seriously think she lets things like that go? She’s still mad because Jimmy Reynolds picked me to be his buddy the day we went to the zoo in second grade.”
Nate had little trouble believing Ivy couldn’t let things go, but surely Mia was exaggerating about her sister holding a grudge because of a second-grade field trip.
Mia threw up her hands. “No wonder she was so cool to you on tour.”
Had Ivy been cool? He must’ve looked puzzled because Mia asked, “You didn’t notice the way she flirted with everyone except you?”
He shook his head. In fact he hadn’t noticed much about Ivy at all. His attention had all been focused on Mia.
“It explains a lot,” she said. “And now she thinks because you want to work with her that you’re interested.”
Nate wasn’t particularly worried. He was a professional and would treat her as such. “I’m only interested in you.”
Mia’s color was high as she approached the bed. “You can’t be interested in me. We’ve been through this already.”
“And it didn’t end the way I wanted to.” He paused to read her expression. “I don’t think it ended the way you wanted, either.”
“What I want hasn’t mattered since I was seventeen years old.”
“Why?”
She waved her hand, batting his question away. “It’s a complicated family thing. Ivy isn’t as strong as she appears. She needs me to be there for her.”
For how long? The rest of her life? Mia had so much to offer. If only she’d stop hiding behind her sister.