All A Heart Needs B&N (11 page)

As Sean made a couple of decisive turns, she asked, "So where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"You're being mysterious."

"It's easier to show than to tell."

"Okay, now I'm intrigued."

He flashed her a smile, and she was happy to see his earlier tension had disappeared.

"Just the way I want you," he said.

"What is this part of town called?"

"The Haight. You've probably heard of Haight Ashbury. It was made famous in the sixties when the flower children and hippies descended on San Francisco."

"I have heard of the Haight. My mom spent a summer here."

"Maybe the Summer of Love," he said lightly. "The neighborhood has changed in the last forty years, but it hasn't strayed too far from its roots of rebellion."

She could see that, noting the eclectic mix of tattoo parlors, vintage clothing stores, and even a used record store. "I can't believe someone still sells records. Who could play them anymore?"

"I still have a record player. It belonged to my biological mom. I remember her putting on records when she ironed. It's one of my very few memories of her."

"Wow, I don't ever remember my mother ironing. She just threw things into the dryer and let them spin."

He grinned. "That usually works for me."

"Look at that—Madame Elisabeth's Dance Studio," she said, pointing out the window at a very old building. "That place was famous. My mom took tap lessons there."

"It looks like it's been closed for a while."

"Madame Elisabeth died about seven years ago. I remember reading about it. She was a real character in the dance community. She danced into her seventies if you can believe that. I met her when I was a kid. She came to one of my mom's dance classes in Vegas. I remember that she had bright red hair and really red lipstick. She was not a person to be ignored." Jessica paused. "Sad that the studio is closed. I've actually been thinking about taking a dance class. It's been three years since I danced. I'm starting to miss it."

"I'm sure there are other studios in the city."

"True. I'll have to look into it once I get Kyle settled into a routine. Sharing parenting duties with Nicole has actually given me a little more time than I had before. And until I figure out what I want to do for money, I might as well dance."

"It's nice that you don't have to decide something right now."

"I'm lucky that Travis left me a nest egg, but eventually I will need a job. All I've ever done is dance. I guess it's time to learn something new."

"Is it? Why not dance?"

"I'm getting too old, it's a lot of night work, and there are just a lot of reasons why not," she finished, waving her hand in the air.

He shot her a thoughtful look. "You seem to have a love-hate relationship with dancing, Jess. Why is that?"

"Well, on one hand, dancing was the only thing my mom and I shared, and it was the only thing that she ever watched me do. She even admitted I was good. When she taught at the dance school, we were together a lot, but when she was dancing in shows or in music videos, she was gone. So, dancing took her away from me, too. She loved being on stage much more than she loved being a mom. I was an accident. She didn't really want a child, but she couldn't bring herself to get rid of me."

"Because she loved you," Sean said.

"She did—in her own way. Sometimes that way was difficult to understand."

"I get that."

She knew he did, because while her mom was quite different than Jack Callaway, both she and Sean had had trouble relating to their parents. But Sean had been lucky to have a second parent in Lynda. She'd only had her mother.

"I don't think you're too old to dance," Sean continued. "Not if Madame Elisabeth danced into her seventies."

"She was special."

"What about teaching?"

"I have considered that, but I'm not sure I could follow someone else's style or program."

"You could start your own dance school."

"That sounds like a really big job."

"You know how they're run. You told me you practically grew up in a school."

"I also know they're a lot of work. And I don't know much about running a business."

"You can learn."

"I also want to give Kyle a good childhood. I don't want him to grow up the way I did, with a mother who was always at work."

"That will never happen, Jess. You are not your mother. And sometimes kids need to see their parents going after their dreams. It can be inspiring."

"Watching my mother go after her dream just pissed me off."

"Well, she didn't do it the right way."

"That's true," she murmured.

Sean turned down an alley and parked next to a building. "We're here."

"Which is where exactly?" she asked, looking around. All she could see were the back doors of a bunch of warehouse-type buildings.

"Come on, I'll show you."

They got out of the car, and he led her toward a door with a sign that read Ashbury Studios.

"Is this a music studio?" she asked. "Is this where you record?"

"It's where I'm going to record—when it's done." He opened the door and waved her inside. "Watch your step. We're still in the construction phase." He flicked on the light switch and she could see a long hallway covered with drywall. He led her down the hall, pointing out some smaller rooms along the way. "These are the rehearsal rooms that we'll be renting out. Then we have two studios, one for groups and another for solo artists." He opened a door at the end of the hall and waved her inside. "This is the main studio or the live room as we call it."

She glanced around the large space. It was modern in design but the exposed beams gave the room a warmer tone. At the far end of the room was a panel of glass that led to a smaller room.

"That's the control room where the engineers will work," Sean explained. "We should have the console installed next week."

Her brows drew together as she tried to keep up. "You keep saying we. Who's we?"

"My partner, Hunter Thomas."

"Your partner? Wait a second." She gave him a questioning look. "This is your studio? You're the owner?"

He gave her a proud smile. "Surprised?"

"Yes," she admitted. "When did all this happen? Why doesn't anyone in your family know about it?"

"Because it's still a work in progress. Hunter and I have known each other since we were in high school. We played in a band together at one point. Then Hunter decided to become a sound engineer and producer and made his way to L.A. We always kept in touch. We had this dream that one day we'd open our own studio. Well, last year Hunter and his brother inherited this building from their grandfather. Hunter's brother lives in New York and didn't want anything to do with the property so he sold me his half."

"That must have been expensive."

"It was. But I've been saving money for a long time. I've lived pretty cheaply, knowing that I wanted to be ready in case an opportunity presented itself. Luckily, Hunter's brother was able to give me a deal."

She stared at him in astonishment. "I didn't think you were the plan-ahead type."

"Only when it comes to music," he conceded. "I made some good money last year, not just with the band, but with some songs that I sold to some big artists."

"This is amazing."

"Not yet, but I hope it's going to be amazing. We envision it as a multi-purpose studio, because so many people can record on their computers now. But they still need rehearsal space, lessons, and advanced engineering facilities. We're going to provide all that. And we're going to rent the upstairs space out as well and use that to bolster the bottom line."

She could hardly believe the man she'd thought of as a free spirit was talking about profit margins and bottom lines. There were a lot more layers to Sean than she had imagined. "I'm impressed. The space is great, the location is good, and you know the music business inside and out. It's the recipe for success."

"We'll see. Let me show you the lounge."

He led her through a door at the far side of the studio. The lounge was a large room with comfortable brown leather couches, a warm, brightly colored throw rugs, and a small kitchen. Along one wall was a display of guitars signed by famous musicians. She picked one up and read the inscription.

"John Mayer?" she asked in wonder.

Sean nodded. "We opened for him a few years back. When he heard about the studio, he sent over the guitar."

"That's incredible. You have some good connections."

"Some."

"How have you kept this a secret?"

He shrugged. "It hasn't been that difficult. I haven't been around the family much the last year. I would like to keep this a secret awhile longer, so if you don't mind keeping it to yourself, I'd appreciate it."

"Why don't you want anyone to know?"

"Because my family has a lot opinions, and they don't hesitate to share them. Hunter and I have a plan, and I don't need anyone else's input. We're going to host a grand opening next month and I'll announce it then."

"You're going to blow everyone away."

"It's just a music studio, Jess, I'm not curing cancer or anything."

"Don't do that. Don't put it down," she said with a forceful shake of her head. "Music is part of our culture and should be protected and nurtured. Every generation defines itself by the songs of their youth. It's the background beat to their lives. It's not unimportant. With every lyric, every melody, you create a legacy. Don't pretend that's not important."

Sean stared at her, his eyes dark with emotion. "Well, I don't know what to say."

"You can say I'm right."

"You are right. You're also pretty wonderful. So wonderful I could kiss you right now."

Her stomach flipped over. "Who's stopping you?"

"Not you?" he questioned,

"Not me," she said, as he moved towards her. Her impassioned speech had set her pulse pounding, and at this moment she couldn't think of one good reason why she shouldn't kiss him.

He put his hands on her hips, his blue eyes compelling her to look at him. "Are you more interested in me now because you think I might have a bank account and a savings plan and a nine-to-five job in my future?"

She shook her head, knowing there was an edge of seriousness behind the light question. "No, I'm interested, because you're really, really sexy. And I get butterflies in my stomach when you look at me the way you're looking at me. I know we're not supposed to do this anymore, but maybe just one more—"

He cut off her sentence with his mouth. Desire shot down her spine at the searing heat of his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes, drinking in the pleasure of his taste, his touch. Sean overwhelmed her senses and lit up her desire. He made her aware of every nerve ending, every sensual needy point of desire. When she was with him, she felt very feminine, eager to take his hard edges into her soft curves.

She wanted to really know him, to get past the teasing and the playful to the deep and the passionate. Sean had a soulful side that came out when he sang and also when he kissed. He was much more complex than she'd realized at first. There were layers and layers, and she wanted to reveal every single one.

But if she could strip Sean's layers away, then he could also strip hers. And where would that leave her? With the guard walls down, he could hurt her. She didn't want any more pain.

But what if there wasn't pain? What if the passion never ended?

Sean's mouth slid from her lips and he kissed his way down the side of her neck. When his fingers crept up under her top, teasing her abdomen, she wanted his hands all over her. This was moving way beyond a simple kiss. She had to stop it. And she would—in a second—or two. Maybe three. But it was Sean who finally broke away.

"You're making me crazy, Jess." His blue eyes glittered like diamonds in a dark sky.

"Likewise," she said. "I feel like you've cast a spell over me."

"I think you're the witch."

"We're being reckless, walking the high wire without a net."

He smiled. "I won't let you fall."

"You might," she whispered.

The humor in his eyes faded.

She took a step back, putting some air between them. Things had gotten way too serious, and that was her fault.

A door banged, and a voice rang through the quiet, "Sean? Where are you?"

"In here," Sean yelled back.

As a man came into the lounge, Jessica smoothed down her clothes, feeling like a guilty schoolgirl caught making out in the classroom.

The man looked like a surfer, tall and skinny with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a deep bronze tan. He wore faded jeans and a blue t-shirt with palm trees on it.

"Well, well," he said, giving them an interested smile. "What do we have here?"

"This is Jessica Schilling," Sean said. "Hunter Thomas."

"You're Sean's business partner," she said.

"Among other things. Nice to meet you, Jessica."

"You, too. Sean was just showing me around."

"Was that all he was showing you?" Hunter teased.

Jessica felt her cheeks turn red. "Uh…"

"Leave her alone," Sean said. "It's not like that."

She didn't know what Sean meant by that comment, but something passed between Sean and Hunter. Then Hunter nodded. "Got it. So, I'm glad you're here, Sean. I just talked to the sound guys, and the board will be delivered next Monday. We're actually ahead of schedule now, if you can believe it."

"That's great."

"If you can be here during the installation, that would be helpful."

"I'll make it happen."

"Good." Hunter paused and then said, "I'm going to do—something else."

Alone again, Jessica wanted desperately to clear the air. "Hunter seems like a good guy."

"He is." Sean gave her a thoughtful, concerned look. "What you said before, about falling—"

"I was just rambling. It didn’t mean anything."

"I think it did mean something. I don't want to hurt you, Jess. I don't want to take advantage of you in any way."

"I won't let you hurt me, and you didn't take advantage. I wanted to kiss you. You wanted to kiss me. And for a while, we let the crazy run, but sanity has returned."