Pyper set her jaw. What argument could be made? None.
Lifting a pen and tapping it restlessly against his desk, Kellen pressed on. “Finding him an opportunity circles to the reason I’ve asked for this meeting. As I put together a rundown of songs for Chase’s new album, I came up with an idea to include you on one of the recordings.”
Pyper stared, slack-jawed. “Include me?”
To combat a roll of fear and disquiet, Pyper forced herself to relax against the back of her chair. She assumed a composed, professional air, but all she could see was Chase—all she could feel in the air around her, like inevitable fire and flame, was the man who had struck through her like a streak of lightning. He was mysterious, compelling and most of all—for a number of reasons—extremely dangerous.
So, she faced off with her dad’s agent, chin lifted, gaze unflinching. “Kellen, I’m working on my second album as we speak, and I’m also ramping up my own workload in the months to come. I don’t see how this will work.”
“Hear me out before you issue any final decision, OK?”
She delivered a playful smile. “I’m all braced.”
Since Kellen was used to her sass, Pyper wasn’t a bit surprised when he simply grinned right back.
“Thanks for that,” he said. “Here’s the situation. I watched Chase’s performance of ‘Burning Bridges’ and it occurred to me that the song calls out to be a duet. It’s got a push-pull style that calls for harmony along with the touch of a woman’s voice, and emotion. I connected the dots, and they created a line straight to you, Pyper.”
Pyper’s eyes went wide. She shook her head. Contributing a few lines of harmony to a song or two with some combined vocals that could be blended post-production was one thing. Working with Chase Bradington on a tug-your-heart-out song like ‘Burning Bridges,’ in the intimate confines of a recording studio, sent Pyper into full panic mode. The heat index in Kellen’s office seemed to soar.
Kellen worked a preemptive strike by lifting his hands to stem an outburst. “Judging by your expression, I can see you understand where I’m headed with this.”
Her dad leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. His eyes glinted, and Pyper could tell his protective instincts had kicked in at max capacity. “You’re treading on very dangerous territory, Kellen. You know Pyper’s history. You propose pairing her in a song setting with the king of bad behavior?”
“The reformed king of bad behavior, Tyler. Give the man his due for emerging from recovery and displaying a solid effort to this point.”
At last, Pyper found her voice—and a small piece of sound logic. “Kellen, you know I adore you. You’re the best there is, but you can’t possibly be serious.” Forcing a demure attitude, she rested her elbows on the armrests of her chair; she fluttered her lashes, pouring on a dose of friendly charm. She needed to catch this fly with sugar rather than vinegar.
Kellen didn’t flinch. Nor did he back down. “Pyper, I’m very serious, and I want you to give this proposition full consideration.”
Kellen Rossiter had been part of Pyper’s life long enough to know just how to gauge—and just when to push. Her deliberately winsome smile faded when shadows danced against the walls of her soul, when dastardly ghosts crept like evil itself through her spirit. Her alarm system blipped loud as every escape hatch drew slowly, inexorably closed.
“No. No way.”
Three short words were delivered with fierce conviction. Pyper wouldn’t revisit her rocky childhood. Not here. Not now. Chase was sexy, attractive and a total charmer, but his battle with addiction would push her into a land of pain she refused to inhabit ever again.
Sensing a temporary impasse, Kellen lifted smoothly from his desk chair. He walked to a beverage service stationed against the far wall of his office and cracked open a trio of water bottles. He delivered them to his guests and kept one for himself before continuing the battle.
“Working with you would be good for him, Pyp. Plus, I think you’ll be incredible performing together. I bet you’d have a great sound, probably some great chemistry, and—”
Pyper answered that praise with a guffaw that came out overdone and a bit too strenuous. Her prior attempt at sweetness turned steely in a flash, and she drummed her fingertips against the bottle rather than taking a sip. “Kellen, with all due respect to your instincts as an agent, my answer is no. A hundred times, no.”
“Then I’m asking a hundred and one.” Kellen was firm, determined, once again proving a truth she had known from the start of her career. Kellen Rossiter was nobody’s pushover. “Look—I know where you’re coming from, but your past makes you the perfect person to interpret this song with him and bring it to life and add to its authenticity. All I’m asking you to do is sing with the man. It’s not a big deal. It's music. It's professional. It's what you do. What’s the problem?”
Pyper tracked Kellen while he resumed his seat.
“I can’t be part of that story, Kellen. I can’t. I won’t be able to handle it.” Relentless in her own right, Pyper pushed on. “I respect the guy as a musician, but I’m not going to be used to build a roadway for him. You know I have a history with this kind of thing. I will not do well working side-by-side with an alcoholic.”
The combustible reaction poured through her heart and soul with no kind of filter. That’s when she noticed something flicker through Kellen’s features—surprise—followed by a laden chord of discomfort. That’s when Pyper turned and realized the cause of his reaction.
Chase.
Paused at the threshold, dressed in a button-down shirt of blue and pair of thigh-hugging black jeans, Chase leaned against the doorjamb, his focus trained on Pyper. “I’m a reformed alcoholic, and I can assure you, I’m determined on that count.”
Exhibiting a smooth, quiet dignity, he stepped into the rising heat of the moment by folding into the third chair positioned next to Kellen’s desk. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Kellen. I know I’m a few minutes early, but your assistant told me I could come on in.”
“No worries. I’m glad to see you again.”
“Same here. Apologies for disrupting the discussion.”
Pyper wanted to disappear into the floor, or at least be given a chance to rewind the past ten seconds and play them out all over again—with a completely different outcome. Despite the mounting flush that crept upward from her shoulders, she steeled her spine and found her voice but couldn’t meet his eyes. “Chase, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all good. You didn’t say anything I haven't heard before. Besides, I’m the type of person who prefers straightforward honesty to polite falsehood.”
“We have that in common.” Pyper murmured the words, finally hazarding a glance in his direction. She had to give him huge props for graciousness—especially since he had no idea of the minefield he had unwittingly stepped into, nor how deep a nerve this opportunity struck within her.
“I don’t mean to short change you, Chase.” Her tone rang with sincere contrition. “And in general, my manners are much better than this.”
“Thanks for that, but I have no problem with your manners, Pyper.” Chase punctuated the words with an assuring smile and steady regard that sent her pulse rate into overdrive.
“It’s like I said to you at the Opry,” Pyper began in earnest, “I know you’ve got a hit on your hands with ‘Burning Bridges.’ I admire what you’ve done, and how you’re trying to turn everything around.”
“You mean how I’ve turned everything around.” His eyes narrowed just slightly; she sensed the way his resolution dawned sharp and real.
When he refused to yield an inch with regard to his progress through recovery, Pyper’s temperament eased. She knew she had to place a fair and honest end-note on the moment. “And the outburst you just walked in on? It was about me not you, OK?”
“More than. And I appreciate that.”
Chase’s focus trained on Pyper and stayed firmly latched until Kellen resumed the meeting.
“And artist to artist, I agree as well,” her dad interjected. “But the song and its story belong to you. Are you sure you’re OK with all of this?”
Just like that, Pyper’s longed for escape hatch yawned open, offering her a means by which to avoid this dizzying sense of magnetism, the pounding of her heart. Thank you, Daddy, she breathed in silence. Thank you so much.
“I see my dad’s point.” Pyper shifted to address Chase directly. “Why complicate a great piece of music you created from the residue of your own sweat and tears?”
“Actually, Kellen made this suggestion, and I agreed to it when he signed me on as a client. Naturally, he didn’t mention potential co-performers by name. He knows the lay of the land better than anybody, right? He probably wanted to find out who’d be willing to work with me first. I’m surprised it’s you as well, Pyper, but I think it makes a lot of sense.”
Her respect for the man grew exponentially. Blast it all. She could brush aside arrogance, ego and entitlement, but Chase bore none of those trappings. He was equal shares toughened and humbled, forming a whole that fascinated her in spite of every instinct and inclination otherwise. Pyper pursed her lips. “I don’t mind the idea of working with you, Chase. I have more than a few black spots in my own past that put us on even ground, but are you sure you want to share the spotlight on a song that would easily launch you to the front lines of the music industry as a solo artist?”
“Pyper, let me make something real clear.” By now, a layer of weariness dimmed his eyes. “I’m not about the industry. I’m about making great music. To my mind, that’ll follow a Christian contemporary theme enhanced by a country vibe. As such, if you have something meaningful to add to a song I’ve created, it’d be a win-win from my point of view. Why fight it?” All at once his gaze intensified, sliding against her slow and as alluring as a finger stroke. “Besides, I have other songs in the works that’ll showcase my talents just fine as solo pieces.”
Silence ensued. Pyper drifted into the shared moment. “So, what you’re saying is you’ve been writing a lot these days.”
“Call it a silver lining against some very dark and stormy clouds. The title track will be called ‘Forgiveness.’”
“And producers at Imperion are already behind the album.” Kellen spoke, refocusing the meeting. “Label execs liked the idea of infusing a woman’s tone, some female sweetness into the mood of ‘Burning Bridges.’ They believe that kind of emphasis will serve to make the piece even stronger. As for the title track, producers have heard rough cuts of ‘Forgiveness’ and they’re ready to sign off on making the song its first release. They figure it’ll become the anthem of his comeback. To generate some positive media buzz, I’d like to pair the two of you in a live setting, maybe at one of the bigger-name spots in The District like Tootsie’s or The Stage. I’m thinking we could polish up a three-song set and test the waters in front of a crowd before hitting the recording studio next month. Any thoughts?”
Chase shifted, appearing uncomfortable. “Anywhere in The District would be great—but I don’t think I’ll be welcomed back at Tootsie’s any time soon. Not after being a public-broadcast no-show.”
“Maybe not welcomed yet, but you will be soon enough. I’ll check with my contacts and get something in place while the irons are still hot from the fire you lit at the Opry.”
Nearly an hour of strategic planning followed that decree. The large, circular clock on Kellen’s office wall inched toward noon. As the meeting wound down, Chase cast a glance toward Pyper.
“Are you hungry by any chance?”
What was it about his voice? The sound of it—silky and low—poured through her body like warm sunlight. Uncertainty lost a battle against the attraction that tugged at her chest. “I’m getting there.”
Chase quick-scanned faces, first her dad’s then Kellen’s. “I was thinking it might be a good idea for Pyper and me to hang out for a bit, go a little more casual. We could grab a bite to eat and just…I dunno…get to know each other better.”
Probably a good idea, but as fast as a pleasing sizzle burst against her skin, a rush of ice quickly followed. Caution swept into place. “I’d have to rearrange a couple things, but, yeah. Sure. That’d be fine.”
Pyper realized her acceptance was stilted. Chase was the last type of man she’d ordinarily spend time with—personally or professionally—yet here she was, initiating a relationship. For better or worse.
Chase stood and extended a hand to guide her to her feet. Their fingertips brushed, curved and held. Back came every single one of those sensory tingles. The need. There was a deep, elemental need here that took her completely by surprise. That, more than anything, kept her moving toward him—as though there were no other choice. That recognition stopped her short, but Pyper regrouped fast.
As a team, the foursome made promises to meet again soon and revisit to the ideas they’d discussed. After that, Pyper departed Kellen’s office with Chase leading the way. And her emotions were nothing more than a tumbled mess.
7
While Chase drove, Pyper thumbed the buttons of her cellphone, crafting a text to Darren to cancel their lunch date—or, at bare minimum, postpone her arrival. She needed to work out this curveball with Chase, pronto, and she knew Darren would understand.
So sry. Have a professional fire to put out. Meeting w/Kellen didn’t go as planned. Will explain l8r. Give Anne a call and pick her up. She’s dying to see Nville again. I’ll meet u both @ Pucketts ASAP.
Just seconds after Chase parked his pickup in the restaurant lot, Pyper’s phone beeped with a reply in the affirmative. That gave her a rush of relief and happiness. Thank goodness for Darren.
Schedule clear for now, she followed Chase through the doorway of Gabby’s, a simple but delicious staple of the Nashville burger-and-fries scene. Their arrival at the small, diner stirred an immediate buzz of conversation, and a few folks reached for cellphones, trying without success to be discreet while they snapped photos.
Chase took it all in stride, which helped Pyper move smoothly past the reception as well. He seated her at a round wood table tucked into a far corner of the eatery, and they promptly lifted laminated menus to explore lunch options.
“I have to say, you took me by surprise today, Pyper Brock.”
Her eyes lifted and she found him studying her intently. “How so?”
“Well, you’ve been handpicked by Kellen Rossiter to perform with me, but when I entered the meeting, I heard talk about your history. Then, there was that strong reaction to alcoholism. Given all that, I guess I just don’t understand the mix. Why you? You don’t seem eager to work with me, and you sure don’t seem like the type of person who’d have many burning bridges in their life.”
Pyper’s spine went taut. “That’s where you just might be surprised.”
Chase watched her for a few seconds. “Care to share?”
“No. Not yet. I don’t know you, Chase. In fact, all I seem to do is tumble and fumble around you.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Me neither.” The moment cooled, and their smiles mixed, delivering a push of pleasure she tried—and failed—to deny. “All I can say is this: the territory you’re asking me to cover is very painful, very private, and still leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. Not your fault. You had no idea you landed in the crosshairs, and that makes me feel bad. You’re kind to ask, and you’re kind to care, but I’d prefer to keep things—”
“Comfortable?” He arched a brow, a playful light making his eyes sparkle because the word comfortable was about the last adjective she figured either one of them would use to describe their interactions thus far. Like it or not, something vivid and electric coursed between them—heady, captivating, but not at all comfortable.
“I want you to understand me,” Pyper said at length, “but it’s hard to verbalize, and harder still to revisit.
”
“All right then. For now, let’s explore something easier.”
“For example?”
“For example, when did you first know you were gonna be a singer?”
The unexpected question, the warmth in his eyes, stirred a joyful burst of laughter. Pyper propped an elbow on the table, looking into his eyes, saturating her soul with a source of nourishment she hadn’t even known she needed until now.
“Happened when I was five.”
“Oh, my. That’s completely awesome.”
Chase’s rumbling chuckle, the crinkle of his eyes and his smile tugged her closer, and closer…
“Music, singing, consumed me the first time Tyler let me play the piano. Chopsticks, of course.”
“Is there any other starter song for piano?”
“Not in our world. Anyway, we plunked the keys and laughed and sang and played. After that, I sat in on a recording session, and he let me sing with him. To this day, I have a CD of that session, and that’s a disc I treasure. From that point on, game over. I was done. I knew I was going to sing. Music equals magic. No other way to explain it.”
“I hear that. Some things are just destined, right? Ordained. That’s how I always felt about music, too.”
A young waitress stopped by and following a pair of autographs, accepted their orders for the house special—burgers and fries. They also opted for a couple large cherry colas.
Chase handed Pyper a wrapped set of silverware and a straw. “Me and Shay…we had dreams. He’d write the words. I’d craft the music. We’d perform. Together. Brothers. He was a poet. There was no emotion, no picture, he couldn’t paint with words. He was an incredible writer.”
“What a gift.”
“The plan was foolproof. Shay’d craft the words, and I’d supply the melody. From there, we’d take the music world by storm.”
Forgiveness Page 5