Tennyson held her hand up. “Look. I’m not here to step on toes or get in on your personal business with Jolene. But can you at least think about it? This could be fun. Y’all are in a different spot than you were writing your first album, and I’m excited about the possibility of working with you. Let’s go in open-minded and see what happens.”
He wasn’t sure what the hell to say to that. She didn’t look aggressive. She just looked eager. Unlike him, Tennyson had no family country music pedigree. She had moved down to Nashville from Chicago and made a name for herself. He respected that. He rubbed his jaw, acknowledging mentally that he hadn’t shaved in days, and refused to look at Ginny. He was still honked off at her. His focus on Jolene this last week had been emotional and physical, not career-driven.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to throw around a few measures with Tennyson. She was young and full of fresh ideas. As much as he hated to admit it, he seemed to have lost some of his fire. His thoughts had been directed more toward getting Jolene naked and the possibility of marrying her at some point than writing the best music of his career, which was how every album should be approached.
“We can certainly talk,” he said. “But I don’t have writer’s block, despite what Ginny is implying. I just haven’t been trying to write anything.”
“Now is your chance,” Tennyson said.
“Hey, can I get you some coffee?” he asked, realizing that he was being rude to keep her standing there in his backyard with sun beating down on her face. “Water, juice, anything?”
“I’ll take water and a guitar,” she said with a grin, her hands tucked into her front pockets.
Chance laughed. “I guess you’re ready to go.”
“I’ll take coffee,” Ginny said. “Thanks for offering.” She was standing to the side, rolling her eyes.
They were going to have it out sooner and later, he and Ginny. She was pushing every last one of his buttons on purpose, and he wasn’t sure why. “I only got two hands, Ginny. I’ll get you next go-round.” He said it in a slow drawl, head cocked.
Ginny finally broke into something of a smile. “You’re an ass.”
“I have an idea,” Tennyson said dryly. “Why don’t we all go in and grab what we need and come back out?”
“You’re so reasonable,” Ginny said. “It’s one of the things I like about you. Some people aren’t reasonable at all.” She shot him a look.
“Are you going to babysit us?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t toss Tennyson out on her ear, but if we’re going to give this a shot, I do not need you hanging around, scowling at me in the background.” Just so they were clear with each other.
“Nobody’s going to be scowling.” Tennyson squeezed his arm and moved past him with a smile. “Let’s get started.” Her walk was lithe, her hips rolling.
He couldn’t see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but he didn’t think she was flirting with him. She was just confident. Playful. You didn’t get to the top of the heap at twenty-nine or whatever she was by being hesitant. So he wasn’t going to read anything into her smile and swagger. Yet he was a bit unnerved to be following her into his own house. He was caught off guard, and that clearly had been Ginny’s intention. Tip the apple cart and see if some songs tumble out.
Jolene was nowhere to be found and the bedroom door was shut. He wondered if he should go in there and check on her. But it seemed rude to leave Tennyson and Ginny standing in his kitchen, so he did the host thing, pouring them coffee and offering cream and sugar. He knew he should probably put on a shirt at some point, but that was the least of his problems.
They sat at his table and talked about where they were on the project, which was nowhere, and Ginny gave Tennyson some background on the label’s expectations. After a few minutes, Ginny said, “I’m going to pop in on Jolene, so you two just keep talking.”
As Ginny disappeared, Chance tossed his hair out of his eyes and slouched back in his chair, legs apart. “So what are you hoping to gain from this?” he asked Tennyson.
“Are you kidding me?” She lifted an eyebrow and set her glass down on his wood table. “I get to work with you. This is a huge opportunity for me.”
He felt somewhat sheepish but mostly pleased. “I think you’re doing just fine on your own, but thank you.”
“I’ve worked with all kinds of people in this business, but you’re hard to connect with. Everyone says you prefer to be the lone wolf. Except when it comes to Jolene, that is.”
She was giving him a look that he didn’t quite understand. Was it a challenge? Or was it mockery? Did she find him amusing, thinking that he’d fallen for a woman and compromised his career integrity? Or was he just super-sensitive about that?
“Everybody needs inspiration now and again,” he said, making sure his tone was casual. He stayed way back in his chair, his body loose, and studied her. Now he was sure there was an angle. He just didn’t know if it was anything more than Tennyson wanting to ride his coattails a little.