AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’d been put through it. For someone who didn’t like the limelight, that had probably been very uncomfortable.
Had he attached her to that discomfort?
Damn, that sucked. Zara really liked Asa.
When she’d made plans to move to Chicago, she’d secretly planned to hang out with Asa again. She liked how his brain worked.
Logan was still taking things away from her.
This next part of her life was supposed to be about reclaiming what was hers. Even if she didn’t know what it was anymore. She was determined to figure it out.
And she wanted to be friends with Asa.
If he wanted that.
ASA
It had taken a couple hours but he mostly forgot that Zara Lorna was upstairs drinking coffee.
Commercial jingles were distracting that way.
They hooked into your brain and didn’t let go. In fact, that was their entire reason for existing. So that you sang stupid little songs all day long and subconsciously bought the product you were singing about.
Was it the way he’d wanted to spend his career in music? No. But it was safe enough.
Also, sometimes Nikki had him mix things for important artists like Ashton James, or Sunshine Capone…or Zara Lorna.
Fuck.
Now he was thinking about her again.
Avoiding her had been incredibly easy over the past six months.
Well, avoiding her in person that is.
She was on every magazine, pop news banner, and gossip site in existence. She and her ex fighting through their publicists.
Hopefully she would go back to New York or London or wherever she lived these days.
And he could resume his life that didn’t involve thought-provoking conversations with beautiful women.
He played the jingle again and his forehead hit the control panel with a soft thud as he slowly died inside.
It was finished. It was better than it needed to be.
He wouldn’t call himself a perfectionist. Unless it was something he had a hand in. Something he created or was responsible for. And then he had to keep tweaking it until someone finally took it away from him.
Which Johnny usually did.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he froze.
His hand hovered over the control board as he waited for a sign that he was in the clear. He held his breath, the damn cat food jingle playing on a loop through his headphones.
A soft touch on his shoulder told him his gut had been right.
She was here.
She’d come downstairs to torture him in his dungeon—he meant workspace.
