“Ash?!?” She practically shrieked through the intercom. I looked around nervously to see if anyone on the street had heard, but it didn’t seem I’d been discovered.
“Can I come on up?” She buzzed me in. I climbed up three flights of dingy stairs and three women stood in a doorway waiting for me when I reached the top. One had her mouth hanging wide open, another had bright blue hair and a lip piercing, and the other was perfect. In grey sweatpants and a huge Queens College sweatshirt that seemed to swallow her whole, Ana had her hair piled up on top of her head in a scrunchie. A few tendrils escaped and I wanted to twirl them around my fingers.
“What are you doing here?” Ana gasped, hands up to her mouth.
“I came to see you. Is that OK?”
“Um…” She flushed a gorgeous shade of pink. Much like she had after that orgasm I’d given her on the piano bench. It looked good on her. Maybe I should have said that was her favorite color. I planned to see it on her a whole lot more.
“Come in.” She seemed to remember her manners and the three of them stepped to the side. “I had no idea. I thought you were going to come by the library tomorrow at noon?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to wait to see you. I thought maybe we could get some dinner.”
“Ash Black.” The one with her mouth hanging open managed to say my name.
“Hi there.” I stuck out my hand to greet her and she stared at it as if it were a marvel.
“This is Jillian.” Ana introduced her, but that didn’t snap her out of her trance. “And this is Liv.” The blue-haired, pierced one stared me down with suspicion. I didn’t try to shake her hand.
“Are you free?” I asked Ana. “Have you had dinner yet?”
“No. Yeah. I mean, yes I’m free and no I haven’t eaten dinner.” Ana looked down at her sweats and suddenly realized she was wearing them. “Oh!” She smoothed them down as if it would magically alter them into something cooler, but she shouldn’t bother. She looked adorable.
“You don’t have to change,” I offered. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a pretty woman in baggy sweats. Lingerie, sexy dresses, skin-tight jeans, that happened every day. This was kind of cute. I still preferred her naked, though. “But if you want to—”
“Yeah, I’ll go do that.” She turned to her bedroom. Then she paused and turned back to look briefly at Liv. “Be nice,” she admonished.
“Ash Black,” Jillian repeated, her brain clearly having trouble processing my presence.
“How are you?” I asked. She gaped at my smile.
“So what corporation owns you?” Liv spat at me. She wore a leather choker around her neck with big, angry metal studs.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s your label?”
“Sony.”
She nodded. “Big brother. Do you know they’re spying on us? Recording everything we do. Violating our privacy. Recording all our preferences and habits.”
“You mean, like, sales stats for marketing?”
She waved that off. “You can call it that.” She glared at me, the enemy.
“Ash Black,” the other one repeated. Somewhere in-between the two reactions would be nice. So far I wasn’t off to a great start with her roommates, with one hating me and everything I stood for, and the other one unable to do anything but repeat my name. I had my work cut out for me.
“What do you think about how corporate rock is killing the independent artist?” Liv shot at me.
“Uh…” I was so eloquent under pressure.
“Back in the 70s all that mattered was if you could sing,” she said, accusingly. “Now you have to look hot.”
“Are you saying that I look hot?” I teased her. She started, losing her composure for a moment. Laughter rang out from behind me.
“He got you, Liv.” Ana came back into the main living area, not really big enough to call it a room though I guessed it functioned as that. Kitchen/den/living room/entryway all in one. She looked radiant, now in a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans as she tied her hair back with a ribbon. I didn’t even think she’d put on any makeup. Wow, she was a knockout.
“Ash Black,” Jillian murmured.
“OK.” Ana patted her dazed roommate on the shoulder. “We’re going to head out now.” She smiled up at me and I could think of nothing I’d rather do.
“You guys should come to my show tonight,” Liv called after us.
“OK.” Ana said it bright and tight and I already knew her well enough to understand that she felt uncomfortable about the invitation.
“Good to meet you!” I called behind us, and before the door closed I could hear a mixture of angry muttering and one last time for good luck, my name on repeat.
Ana led me to a small place around the corner, a Thai restaurant. Simple and inconspicuous, with few patrons and dim lighting, it looked perfect. I still kept my baseball cap pulled down low. I didn’t want to risk getting spotted.
We ordered and after a little chit chat, I asked her to tell me more about her past, her family, how she’d ended up here in life. It was all in the dossier prepared for me by the PR firm, but reading really wasn’t my thing and I much preferred it told to me by Ana. Sitting there petite and sweet, she grew animated as she told me about her hard-working parents, how much they’d sacrificed to move to America and start over so they could make a better life for her. They’d poured time and effort and money into her piano study, hoping one day she’d b
e able to turn her talent into a profession.
“You’re so talented,” I told her, bullshitting her not in the least. She’d really impressed me the other day. “I’m sure you could.”
“Not everyone can make a living with music,” she corrected me. Though she didn’t sound bitter about it. “Anyway, I love being a librarian. And I can always play music.”
“I’d love to hear you play again.” Sitting with her, both of us making music together, I didn’t have words to describe how it had felt, so natural and alive. Connor and I had always been able to collaborate with ease, feeding ideas and building on them together, creating something out of nothing. But I’d never felt that kind of a connection with a woman before. It almost scared me.
“I’ve never…” Somehow I wanted to let her know how much it meant to me. That this wasn’t all for show. “Making music with you, I’ve never…” Why were words so hard right now? I swallowed. “The women I usually date aren’t exactly…I’ve never really dated a musician before.”
She burst out laughing. OK, not exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for.
“The last woman you dated was Mandy Monroe!”
Point taken. She was right. And Mandy Monroe was the real deal, able to sing and play guitar and write songs with the best of them. But, funny thing, we’d never once done it together. She’d always been a whole lot more interested in going out together, seeing and being seen, and I guessed that had never bothered me. Now, though, it seemed strange.
“What happened between the two of you?” Ana asked me, her light brown eyes watching me with keen insight. “I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like maybe I should know the real story? I am here as part of the official clean up team.”
She smiled at me and I smiled back, but it didn’t sit right with me, I didn’t like her thinking of herself like that. Even though she was right.
“We met at an awards show,” I began, the way so many celebrity couplings did. That or an after-party after an awards show. Or the classic intro through PR firms, that happened a lot, too. Like the matchmaking of old with a celebrity twist, each involved party understood the purpose and limitations of the pairing. I ran Ana through the course of our brief and predictable relationship, meeting up at each other’s shows, vacationing in Cabo.