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HER FIRST KNOCK WAS so timid she had to repeat herself twice before Miles opened his front door.
“Oh, good,” he breathed. “I kept worrying that you were going to change your mind and back out.”
She glanced at the clock behind his shoulder. “Sorry, the roads were a little icy, and I got a later start than I hoped.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He stood aside to let her in. “I’m just glad you’re here. I couldn’t sleep last night, I was so excited. I can’t begin to tell you how thankful I am that you’ve agreed to do this. I haven’t been this inspired with my music for years. In fact, I was considering leaving Orchard Grove. It just seemed like all my creativity died the day I moved here.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“Can I take your coat?”
She’d be embarrassed if he knew how long she’d deliberated over what she should wear. If they made a music video like he hoped, it wouldn’t be of the two of them, but even though she knew she wouldn’t be in front of the camera, she’d tried on half a dozen different outfits or more. What had gotten into her? She’d been performing nearly her entire life. Why should she feel so nervous now?
“I’m so glad you came,” he repeated and led her down the hall. “Come this way. I’ll show you my studio. Or do you want some tea first?”
She’d been so nervous all morning she’d hardly drunk anything, but she knew she was too anxious to carry any sort of conversation over tea. “I’m all right.”
She followed him to his studio, a walk-in closet he’d converted to serve his purposes. He had the covers of several jazz albums on the wall, a large desktop computer, and a variety of microphones and other equipment strewn about.
“Welcome to my lair.” He smiled, but even though he was obviously pleased to have her as his guest, there was no way for her to feel comfortable. At least not until they started playing together, and then hopefully the beauty of their harmony would drown out all her concerns.
“Are you really sure I should go?” she’d asked her husband that morning.
“If you want to,” he answered with a shrug.
His response had disappointed her, even though she couldn’t articulate why. Had she been hoping Greg would give her an excuse to bow out? Had her stage fright stolen away her new confidence?
Or were there other reasons why she still felt uncertain about being here?
It was her mother, probably, all those years her mom spent complaining about men like Miles, living off his teacher’s salary and engrossed in artistic endeavors that would never make him rich or famous or powerful or important or give him any of the other status symbols her mother so highly coveted.
The more Katrina thought about it, the more she realized how similar he was to her husband. One pursued ministry, the other music, but both were passionate, devoted to their work, sometimes to a fault. Neither would earn his millions or leave a lasting mark outside of his small sphere of influence.
Two men with such different pursuits, but on the other hand so similar.
She remembered how strange it had felt last night when Greg asked about Miles’ family and she’d realized she knew so little about his personal life. Had he ever been married? Ever loved someone else with the same passion he devoted to his music?
Then again, what business was it of hers anyway? She was here to help him record a song, something she could easily do without knowing his entire life history.
“Should I take out my violin?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet. I figure we’ll be lucky if we get the vocals laid out by lunchtime. We can worry about instrumentals after that.”
Katrina realized she had no idea how long recording a song was supposed to take, but she tried to hide her surprise.
“Are you warmed up?” he asked.
She rubbed her hands together. “I’m fine. I had the heat up on high in the car, and I’m still pretty toasty.”
His smile was soft and gentle. “I meant your voice.”
She lowered her gaze. “Oh. No, I haven’t done much yet today.” Maybe she should have spent more effort preparing her voice instead of spending all that time trying to find something to wear that wasn’t pastel.
He turned around in his swivel chair and pushed a button on his keyboard. “All right, then. First things first. Let’s get you ready to sing.”