Page 52 of Mr. Naughty List

Lauren would have something to say about that. Maybe she’d be able to talk sense into him. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy this like an elf enjoyed Christmas: feverishly and ready to crash when it was over.

Betsy packaged up the cookies and sent them off with a thermos of coffee. She grabbed them both in firm but awkward hugs on their way out the door.

“Good luck with Chip, hon,” she said. “I believe in you.”

“I know, Mom.”

“I believe in Santa Claus,” Beau said from behind his mom’s knee.

“So does Aaron,” RJ said with a shit-eating grin. “He’s on Santa’s naughty list.”

“Oh RJ,” his mother said, rolling her eyes and turning away.

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” Beau said, seriously. “I hope you don’t get coal in your stocking.” His brows rucked with worry.

“It’s okay. I love coal,” Aaron called out, opening the door to the SUV and preparing to climb inside. “Under pressure, it turns to diamonds.”

RJ squeezed his hand before starting the motor, and Aaron waved at the kids as they backed down the drive.

Chapter Seventeen

“Let’s hear it,”Chip said, sitting back in the control room of his small studio in the middle of a nineteen-seventies strip mall. He gestured at RJ and his guitar. “I wanna know what we’re working with here.”

Aaron stood behind Chip, both of them visible through the plexiglass separating the small recording booth from the control room. Chip was a robust, furry guy of somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty-nine. It was hard to tell for sure since he was covered in a beard and a beer belly. But he was a nice guy and had always treated RJ well, even when the Old Skool Millennials were still playing back in high school, and he’d offered ages ago to help RJ with a new demo.

“Gonna puss out on me now?” Chip said, laughing. “C’mon, RJ. Hit me.”

RJ licked his lips nervously. He hadn’t thought this part through when he’d asked Aaron along. Was he ready to sing the song he’d written just the other day in front of the man who’d inspired it? Christ, he had balls. He knew that. But did he have balls this big? He was about to find out.

RJ cleared his throat, got more comfortable on the creaky stool set up in front of the mic, and started to strum. He let it rise in him, the lyrics starting out quiet and unsure, and then picking up power as he got to the bridge. He crested with the chorus and dropped back into a verse with ease. He opened his eyes, his gaze landing first on Aaron, and he let himself smile, allowing himself to project the song lyrics at the man himself.

Aaron swallowed visibly, broke eye contact, and stepped back into a shadow behind Chip, arms crossed protectively over his middle. RJ sang on. He had no choice. No matter what Aaron thought, he was halfway through this thing now, and he had to see it out.

When it was over, Chip whistled. “Got more like that?”

“A couple,” he lied.

“Okay. We’ll book it for next week. I kept those days blank on my schedule ’cause I thought I’d spend that time with Anna, considering she’s done with classes and all, but she’s a bitch so…” He shrugged.

RJ cocked his head. “There’s a story there.”

“Fine.I’mthe asshole. But whatever. My girl’s spending the holidays with her mama in Tampa, so it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll book you in.”

“I can pay for the hours. Your usual rate.”

“Good for you. Because I’m not giving you a friend’s discount.”

“Fair enough.”

Chip rose and stretched, his beer belly popping out from beneath his vintage Metallica T-shirt. “If it all goes well, you should have something good for your agent to hand around. Who knows? Maybe next year you’ll be a rising star on the alt-rock scene.”

RJ huffed a laugh. “I just want to make something of my own. Screw the rest of it.”

“If only that was how it worked, bub.”

“There’s always Spotify,” RJ said, mentioning Casey’s idea from the rehearsal the night before. His friend had mentioned the streaming service, pointing out how times had changed since the last time RJ had tried his hand at making his own music.

“It’s like self-publishing Joel’s horror books,” Casey had said. “You don’t have to get anyone’s permission to make music now.”