Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I made a note to write a few more songs while I was away. It would be a nice, low-key way to thank Alex for all his hard work.
That was my last work-related thought as I made my way to the helipad downtown on top of the record label headquarters.
I let go of the stress and the chaos as the chopper left the city behind.
When I set foot in Jackson’s Ridge, it felt like I was actually coming home, which was odd for a boy born and raised in Southern California. I sucked in a deep breath of the crisp ocean air as I walked across the lawn with a wide smile.
“Granddaddy! Zola! Guess who’s back?” I called, stepping inside the house.
Silence. I was greeted with absolute silence. No one was home.
On the kitchen counter, I found a note to Zola written in Granddaddy’s chicken scratch. He was at the old folks’ dance and promised to bring pizza and sandwiches home.
“It won’t be late, the dance is for old folks!” He left a smiley face and a signature that was just GD.
I was glad to see they were getting along but bummed that everyone was out on my first night back. They didn’t know you were coming, my conscience chided.
I didn’t want to think about that, so I grabbed my keys from the ring near the door, hopped in my Bel Air, and went to visit someone I knew would be happy to see me.
“Ryan, my man. How’s it going?”
He looked up from the hood of a pickup, grease smudged across his forehead and a welcoming smile on his face. “Superstar, what’re you doing back in town?” He wiped his hands on a rag hanging from the back pocket of his coveralls and shook my hand.
“I needed a break from the studio and all that craziness, and I decided to come back to my old friends in Jackson’s Ridge. How’s it going?”
“Can’t complain. Just got a ’67 Nova to restore and business is good. How’s the Bel Air?”
“Don’t really know for sure. The ride over here was smooth, but has Granddaddy been driving it around town?”
Ryan shrugged. “As far as I know, he’s been using the teens in town as his own personal fleet of cabs.”
That sounded exactly like something he would do. “How are Persy and Titus?”
He lit up at that question. “Excellent. How’s the album coming along?”
“Done,” I told him with a satisfied smile of my own. “All I’ve been doing since I left is work, so the suits are happy and Alex is happy.”
“And you?”
I shrugged. “I’m always good.”
“But not happy?” Ryan studied me a little too carefully, and for a quick second I wondered why I was so eager to return to a place where people just said whatever was on their minds and asked personal questions without a care about being rude or intrusive.
“I’m happy enough, I suppose. Thinking about getting this silver Porsche 365 I saw at auction. She needs a lot of work. Would you be up to the task?”
Ryan smirked as if he knew exactly what I was doing, but even though he was a lifelong Jackson’s Ridge resident, he was also a man and knew when to back off. “Does that mean you plan on coming back to town more often?”
Mostly.
I shrugged at the question I didn’t have an answer for. “I have a house here, so I’ll come as often as I can.”
Ryan nodded and clapped me on the back, nodding towards his office. “Does this have anything to do with the baby?”
I frowned. “Baby? Are you and Persy having a baby?” I shook my head. “If you need money, I can lend you some, but I wouldn’t buy a car just so you could have guaranteed income.”
Ryan’s smile slowly faded and his head fell forward. “Shit.” The word came out on a low growl as he shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. “Persy is going to kill me. She’s going to chop me up into little pieces and sprinkle me into the hospital garbage.”
Before I could ask what the hell was going on, Ryan had his phone out. He typed out a message with the speed of a man on death row and shoved it back in his pocket.
“What’s going on, Ryan? Did you cheat on Persy and get someone else pregnant?”
He didn’t seem like the type, but I met all sorts in my line of work as a musician. Men who had it all and threw it away for a thirty-minute lay.
Ryan frowned and then burst out laughing. “Me? Oh, hell no. We wasted way too much time apart, and truthfully, there’s no woman I want more than the one I’ve got.”
“Okay. Good for you guys. So, what baby are you talking about, exactly?” I felt as though I was missing a key part of the information and unease settled around my shoulders.