Chapter 5

Richie leaned against the brick wall, letting a stream of smoke out his nose. He tried to ignore the uneasy churning in his gut, that feeling that had kept building as the day wore on. Alex had finally left. Her watchful gaze seemed to pick up on everything as he was working.

He felt like a bug under glass, man. And she was quiet. He was used to a chirping female, always trying to fill the silence. He usually didn’t mind that. There was a cadence and rhythm to the way the female mind worked. The sharing—fuck, sometimes the over sharing to be honest—it settled him. He almost always knew what a chick was feeling. This one? He didn’t know if he was intrigued because she was so closed off or if she actually interested him.

He lifted his face to the dying sun. October was settling on the city with a crispness he didn’t realize he’d missed. Spending so much time in California the last few years had deadened him to the change of seasons. He found the change refreshing for once.

He groaned and flicked the half finished cigarette into the street. Fuck, why was he standing here thinking about her of all things? He had better things to do than consider ice maidens. Hell he didn’t have the energy to worry about that now, it took all he had to make it day to day. As he turned to move back into the building his pocket vibrated. Slipping his phone from his pocket he glanced at the display before flipping it open. He grinned at the grumble echoing through the phone.

“Took ya long enough to answer you fuck.”

“Hello to you too Bro.” He bumped the door open and strolled to the booth to pick up his things. “How’s it been hanging man?”

“Same as usual man, too busy to breathe. How bout you?”

“In the studio my Brotha’ just trying to finish up the new CD.” He slung the laptop bag over his shoulder and picked up the guitar case he was taking home for the night. “It’s going pretty well, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Yeah, You should come by in a few days, if you can tear yourself away from paper pushing.” He paused a moment to consider his next words. “Besides I’ve got this chick hovering around the studio to do my liner notes and artwork. She’s really hands on.”

“Oh yeah?” Richie heard him settling back in his chair and grimaced at the next words issuing from his phone. “Is she hot?”

Richie hesitated as he searched for words that wouldn’t have Jon thinking he was all that interested in Alex. “There’s an ice princess vibe to her, but she’s interesting.”

Jon laughed. “Ice princess? That’s a weird compliment for you. I thought only I went for the cool, calm and collected.”

“Well, she’s just working for me. Not like I’m ready to get into her pants or anything.” Richie took a deep breath then sighed in exasperation. Damn he didn’t want Jon interested in Alex, that was his own little quandary to enjoy.[i]Woah, I so do not want to enjoy anything feminine, not now.[/i] “I don’t know how to define her. Ball buster, maybe?”

“Now I definitely have to meet her. I’ll stop by in a few days. I’ve got meetings that pass even your late evening recording sessions.”

“Fuck off man, I play when the mood strikes you know that.”

“Believe me, I know…” The laugh in Jon’s voice did exactly what it was supposed to, soothe him. “I’ve felt the pain of your muse at three in the morning, you shit.”

Richie threw his sunglasses on and strolled back out the door. “Lucky dog, you don’t get to see that side of me until next year.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

“Yeah Yeah, Sure ya are man. Talk at you later.” Richie flipped the phone closed, stuffing the phone into his back pocket as he slid into his SUV. Time for home, food and bed, although not necessarily in that order.

As he cranked the SUV the first glimmers of a lyric hit him, the doubts and emotions of the past days swirling in his gut just as shimmers of golden eyes danced before his eyes. Fuck, even when she was nowhere near she was in his head. She couldn’t be, he just wasn’t ready or willing to let any woman get to him. Too much shit he had to do, too many things to settle from the last two years. To say the least, he didn’t want what a woman like that could bring his way, not now, not after everything else he’d foolishly allowed to happen in his life. Using alcohol to deaden the pain of the divorce and his Pop’s death hadn’t been bad enough, he’d made more than one stupid decision when it came to women too. He couldn’t risk another one. Not now, not ever.

He forced the vision back, but the lyric wouldn’t be denied, through the streets, up the elevator to his hotel room and all the way through his quick dinner it kept hammering at him, demanding attention. Groaning he stuffed the rest of his dinner back on the cart, stood and moved to the bedside table where his ever present pad of paper rested. It was time to write, a lyric never could be denied, not even if an ice princess and her wicked gold eyes were the possible inspiration.

Settling back down on the couch he lifted his guitar, put a pencil in his mouth and began to strum.