Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3)

Home > Other > Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3) > Page 8
Key Change: A Slow Burn Rockstar Romance (Common Threads Book 3) Page 8

by Heidi Hutchinson


  She turned those terrifying eyes on Johnny.

  “For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know it hardly matters since I don’t even remember what I did.” Her eyes flicked over to the guitar again. “But I’m betting it was bad.”

  Johnny didn’t know what to say. He hardly knew what to think.

  But he was feeling a lot.

  Mostly confusion. And regret.

  “We won’t tell anyone,” he said as Hannah reached the door.

  She turned just her head to glance over her shoulder. “Thank you, Johnny.”

  Chapter Four

  Circus

  HANNAH

  It wasn’t what she expected.

  XY Records didn’t look like it should be taken seriously.

  Honestly, it looked like a dump.

  Hannah hesitated outside the unmarked steel door, the bribery check burning a hole through her purse.

  It was weird, she’d never struggled with the bulky weight of her over the shoulder bag until after she’d put the check in it. Then it seemed to weigh an enormous amount. As if the one hundred thousand dollars were in small, unmarked bills and stacked in tidy rows. Maybe this was why payoffs were done in back alleys with gym bags full of twenties. Because the weight was there anyway, even if it was only a check.

  Except she needed it to be a check. So that when he cashed it, there would be a record.

  According to the financial pull Alex had done, and under the advice of Quinn, the money Hannah was offering would be too good to pass up.

  Even for someone without any ethical fading like Johnny Enamorado.

  She pulled the door open and stepped inside. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darker interior.

  It was just a small entry area with hooks for coats, a snow shovel propped in the corner next to a bucket of ice melt.

  “Can I help you?”

  Hannah’s eyes landed on a blonde standing in the entryway to a long, narrow hallway. Young, perky, fashionable.

  “I’m here to see Johnny Enamorado,” Hannah said, hoping she pronounced his last name correctly.

  “He’s in the back.” She pointed to a doorway on Hannah’s left with one hand while the other scrolled the screen on her smartphone. “Do you have a preference in fish, chicken, or steak?”

  Hannah blinked at the question. “Uh, no.”

  The blonde smiled brightly and went back to her phone.

  Weird.

  Hannah went through the door and down a hall that emptied into a live room with a drum kit set up at the center. The ceilings were high, and light filtered in from windows up above.

  She did a small circle in the room and spotted another doorway to a smaller room. She entered and it was as she’d guessed, a dead room. A variety of guitars lined the edges, and various cords and plugs hung on organized rows.

  Hanging up one of those nicely coiled cords was Johnny.

  The strong lines of his back, the way the thermal hugged his shoulders and tapered to his tight waist. Her eyes skated over his backside, but she didn’t linger.

  She cleared her throat.

  He turned around and his polite expression dissolved when he realized it was her.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked tersely.

  She narrowed her eyes and ran her tongue over her teeth.

  What was it about this man’s hard exterior that made her old instincts of protectiveness kick in? None of the good ones, of course, just the bitchy ones.

  She took an extra breath before she answered.

  Lord, help me not fuck this up too.

  “I’m here to make you a deal.”

  Johnny pushed past her, not even bothering to pretend to listen to what she had to say.

  “I have a lot going on today, princess. I don’t need you around to ruin it.”

  Fair point.

  She followed him through the live room and back down the hall. He kept going, bypassing the front door and going down the hall on the right. This hall had four closed doors, three on the left and one at the end.

  He entered the first one and closed it behind him.

  Mother. Fucker.

  Hannah stuffed her shit back down and prepared to play nice.

  She rolled her eyes to herself because she really fucking hated playing nice.

  “Piper. You can do this for Piper,” she whispered to herself.

  Okay. Better.

  She opened the door and was relieved that it wasn’t a bathroom. Not that that would have stopped her, but this would be less awkward.

  It was a large, bright (and frankly glorious) control room. Bright lights, oak floors, a large window looking into a heavenly live room with matching oak floors. Truly, she could salivate over the setup.

  Johnny stood at the board with headphones but turned around when she slammed the door behind her.

  Ignoring his sputtering, she crossed the small room and set her heavy purse on one of the three leather couches. Reaching inside, she found the business check easily and slid it out.

  Johnny took it her from her without breaking angry eye contact. “What’s this?”

  “If it’s not enough, I can get more,” she said, watching him open it.

  Contempt and disbelief twisted his handsome face and he tried to hand it back to her. “I told you I didn’t want your money.”

  “If you don’t take the money, then I have no guarantee that you’ll keep quiet,” she persisted.

  “You don’t have the guarantee anyway, babe.”

  She flinched at his declaration, knowing that was true.

  “You just want legal recourse in case I call a magazine or something.” He folded the check in half and held it up between two fingers. “You’ll just have to take me at my word.”

  Hannah ran a hand through her hair and sighed with defeat.

  Something passed through Johnny’s eyes as he watched the movement. She didn’t know him well enough to know what it was, though.

  “Please,” she said, throat thick. “Wouldn’t you do anything to protect Shawn?”

  His eyes flashed with anger and his jaw tightened.

  “You want me to believe that you”—he gestured with his eyebrows at her—“have altruistic intentions?” He snorted.

  Again, fair.

  Especially if he knew her outside of what the press revealed.

  In most cases, the media made up things to add drama and intrigue. Ashton James had been the exception to that fact. They only ever had to post the truth. And even then, they didn’t know the half of it. She’d always had enough money to hide the bulk of her misdeeds.

  “So what you’re saying is my money won’t save me now?” she replied grimly.

  He watched her carefully, suspicion heavy in his eyes.

  “You, of course, have no reason to believe me.” Her eyes wandered to the control board, little lights and switches. Oh, how much easier would it be if she could adjust a fader and change the entire direction of this current track in her life.

  “This is my nightmare,” she murmured.

  “What do you mean?” he questioned.

  Her gaze darted back to him, realizing he’d heard her.

  She bit her bottom lip while debating internally how much she could reveal.

  Nothing.

  Everything.

  How much should she reveal. Maybe that was a better question.

  Or maybe all of it was irrelevant and she should give up on successfully keeping Piper in her life.

  The very thought, as fleeting as it was, caused sudden emotion to sting her eyes.

  Piper.

  She could do anything for Piper.

  Go to the mat, fight to the last breath, start over until she died kind of devotion.

  “It’s my biggest fear—that what I have coming to me, what I deserve, will ruin one more person’s life.”

  Johnny’s frown deepened, but he remained silent.

  “I have no way of preventing it. All I have is the hope of del
ay.” She nodded at the check. “Piper is…good, and right, and pure. She doesn’t deserve me as her caretaker. She deserves a real mom, and a real home, and an actual life. Not me. I’m….” She snorted. “Well, I’m sure you know.”

  Johnny put his hands on his hips and looked to the floor. He still held the check in his fingers.

  And her future in his hands.

  “Sorry this took so long.” They were interrupted by the perky blonde from the front. She pushed right in between them and set a couple of bags on the table in the middle of the room.

  “Nikki, it’s not a great—” Johnny stopped midway into his sentence and shot a look at the clock on the wall. “What time is it?” he asked, checking his watch and glancing back at the clock on the wall.

  “It’s two fifteen,” Nikki replied, unpacking what smelled an awful lot like tacos. “La Morena’s was so busy. I had to wait for them to finish making the order. Anyway, they threw in some extra avocado salsa. You know, the spicy one that ruins my makeup.” She cast a knowing look at Hannah, which caught her off guard. “I guess if my eye makeup is going to run, I’d rather it be Mexican food than a shitty man. Am I right?”

  Hannah bit back a smile, surprised at the other woman’s friendly demeanor.

  It wasn’t something Hannah experienced often.

  Hell, it wasn’t something she experienced, period.

  “I got you your usual, Johnny.” She nodded at Hannah. “And I got you a trio. So all three: chicken, fish, steak. Have you ever had La Morena’s tacos?”

  Hannah dumbly shook her head.

  “They are the best tacos in town. You will not be disappointed.” She finished setting out the food and grabbed a smaller bag for herself. “I’m going to eat at my desk. Lord Business called. They’re going to be early, so eat fast, babes.”

  Then she was gone.

  Johnny rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Of course they’ll be early,” he muttered to himself.

  Hannah took a second to catch her breath at the small (but refreshing) tornado named Nikki.

  Johnny tossed the check on the table with the food while pulling his phone out of his pocket, muttering to himself.

  “Nikki?” he bellowed toward the doorway.

  She appeared, clearly having sprinted down the hall.

  “Did Monica Reeves call?” he asked.

  Nikki frowned and pointed a finger at Hannah.

  Hannah shook her head, some of the past few minutes beginning to make sense. She placed a palm on her upper chest. “Hannah.”

  “Not Monica?” Nikki asked, as if Hannah might be messing with her.

  “Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Johnny paced to the far wall and back again, one hand going through his hair and the other selecting something on his phone and then pressing it to his ear.

  Nikki’s eyes widened and she screwed up her mouth to bare her teeth and smile awkwardly. Hannah snorted involuntarily. Johnny’s attention darted their direction.

  “Hey, Monica,” he said, sounding strained. “Did I misunderstand the time you said you’d be here? It’s after two now and we need to get started soon. Uh…call me back, I guess.”

  “Monica Reeves is supposed to play piano for a track that Johnny is supposed to produce for—” Nikki whispered conspiratorially to Hannah.

  “Nikki!” Johnny barked. “This is a great example of oversharing.”

  Nikki pursed her lips. “Sorry, boss.” She blew air from her mouth and bugged her eyes at Hannah.

  Two things happened in Hannah’s mind at that moment. One, she decided she liked Nikki a lot. Which was a very new feeling for her. Liking anyone, let alone another woman, right away was strange and foreign. And two, she saw the opportunity for what it was.

  “I play piano,” she offered.

  Nikki’s eyebrows went up in interest and she looked to Johnny for his reaction.

  “Absolutely not,” he said firmly.

  But Hannah recognized that look. It was the look of a man beginning to unravel.

  “I can play the piano very well, actually,” she said, taking a seat on the couch. She found her three tacos easily and began to unwrap them. The avocado salsa sounded promising and she dug around in the bag for that. After a moment of silence, she glanced at Johnny.

  He silently shook his head at her. “You have no idea what you’re suggesting,” he said, his face slack, eyes wide as his mind raced with all the terrible things he was imagining.

  But she did know what she was suggesting. For the first time since leaving his adorable townhouse the other night, she finally felt like she had the upper hand.

  He didn’t want money? Fine. But he needed a musician.

  She’d never met or heard of Monica Reeves, but at the moment, she wanted to thank her for flaking on her agreement.

  Nikki cleared her throat and took a small step toward Johnny. She laced her fingers together in front of her. “I’m not sure you have much of a choice,” she whispered.

  Again, Hannah had to stop herself from laughing.

  Nikki was both adorable and hilarious. She reminded her of Anna Faris in basically every movie she’d ever been in.

  A bell rang at the front of the building and Nikki spun around and hurried toward it.

  Hannah took a bite of her taco, holding eye contact with Johnny.

  “This isn’t happening,” he growled to himself. He turned around to face the soundboard, and by the rise of his shoulders, he took a deep breath.

  Voices up front came closer as they headed down the hall. And then they were there.

  A large man in a large suit entered directly behind Nikki, who had a plastic smile on. Which was odd because she’d been more than affable with Hannah. Behind the big man was a young man, probably in his early twenties, tight skinny jeans and a football jersey. A long gold chain around his neck and an unkempt ponytail at the nape of his neck.

  Tattoos covered his pale arms and went all the way up his neck. He had a few words scrawled across his face as well.

  Hannah recognized him immediately.

  He was the newest big sensation. Blasting into fame a year ago and sending himself into the stratosphere with his clever lyrics and hip-hop sound.

  Not to mention his look was its own attention-getter.

  He looked like he needed a shower.

  Hannah unconsciously braced for when the smell that accompanied the look made it to her.

  He spotted her and took a seat next to her with a chin lift.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she replied, trying not to frown when she was enveloped by the scent of laundry detergent and fresh shampoo.

  Ohhh, it’s a real gimmick.

  Hmm, interesting. And surprisingly pleasant.

  “I’m Dave,” he introduced himself.

  “Hannah Lee,” she returned around a mouthful of chicken taco.

  He nodded once and continued messing around on his phone.

  Dave. Right.

  The rest of the world knew him as Sunshine Capone.

  But “Dave” probably wouldn’t have gotten as much attention as a tattooed white boy named after a legendary gangster.

  Hannah just nodded her head and kept eating. She had one ear trained on the suit and Johnny’s conversation.

  Drawing from her experience, she guessed the suit was a manager. And judging from the bits and pieces of conversation she could hear, Johnny was being given a chance to produce one track for Sunshine Capone’s sophomore album.

  Ah, the dreaded second album slump.

  She didn’t miss those days.

  Trying to get people to listen to your shit enough that you became a household name, but not so much that they were sick of you. Then trying to produce a follow-up album that was fresh (because, again, people tired of the same thing quickly) but also similar enough to your first release so it didn’t alienate the small fan base you’d managed to acquire.

  It was exhausting.

  And the only way Hannah h
ad gotten through was with the help of a lot of alcohol.

  And sometimes hard drugs.

  Usually both at the same time.

  Yeah, she didn’t miss those days.

  Even if her mouth sometimes watered when she thought about the taste of chilled Chardonnay on a summer evening.

  Nikki hadn’t been kidding about the hot sauce. Hannah’s eyes watered, and her mouth sucked in air to try and cool off the interior. She glanced around, looking for a beverage of some kind. She remembered seeing a small refrigerator in the main lobby and she shot to her feet, headed that direction.

  “You have something to drink?” Hannah labored through the question, fanning her face and neck with a hand.

  Nikki laughed and opened the mini fridge door to reveal an assortment. “We have plain water, bubbly water, Coke, and beer.”

  Hannah leaned in and snatched a bottle of plain water. She cracked the lid off and took a long, refreshing drink.

  “Whew, you weren’t kidding about that avocado salsa.” Hannah wiped under her eyelids. If she’d been wearing any eye makeup, it would definitely have been ruined after that.

  Nikki smiled and shifted closer to Hannah, dropping her voice. “Johnny won’t say because he’s like that, but he can’t lose this client. And he’s shit on piano. So, for all our sakes, I hope you have the razzle-dazzle required.”

  Hannah knew she was smirking, but she couldn’t help it.

  “Oh, I’m amazing on piano,” she answered honestly. “I can pretty much play anything.”

  Nikki breathed an obvious sigh of relief. “Then do what you do, mama. I’ll cover you from here.”

  Hannah returned back the way she’d come, feeling a new type of warmth spread through her chest. This time it wasn’t from the hot sauce.

  She liked Nikki.

  It was a strange and sudden emotion…this like. Was it safe? Was it okay to like Nikki? Was it okay to think she might actually be liked in return?

  No.

  Nothing was safe.

  Especially not relationships with others.

 

‹ Prev