Broken Resolutions: A Rule Worth Breaking / The Man She Can't Forget / Billionaire Boss, M.D.. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
though he directed a meaningful glance towards Rick and the others, Jake barely needed confirmation of his decision. Not when the final say categorically rested with him.
Eyes narrowing, he continued, ‘But if we take you on you do realise that there’s a hell of a lot of work ahead of you? You may be able to sing, Miss Ryan, but there’s a lot to learn before we let you loose onstage in public. Have you honestly never sung professionally before?’
He didn’t believe her. As exciting as the prospect of singing with the band was, Caitlin knew instinctively that if she accepted the job her relationship with this man was never going to be one made in heaven.
She nervously cleared her throat. ‘I was in a school band from fifteen to eighteen, but I’ve done nothing since then. We only played local functions. Events like Christmas parties, special birthdays and anniversaries…stuff like that’
‘And you were the lead singer?’
‘No. That is…we all sang. There were six of us altogether. But I occasionally played piano and guitar.’
Rick’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline. ‘You’re a musician as well?’
‘Yes. That is, I read music and play a little. I practise whenever I can…at least on my guitar. I no longer have a piano.’
No wonder she knew instinctively exactly where to come in with the vocal, Jake mused. Only someone who was a competent musician or had a natural ear for music could pull that off without rehearsal.
He saw his astonishment reflected back at him when his glance collided with Rick’s.
‘Sweetheart, as far as I’m concerned there’s not the slightest doubt in my mind that you’re the right singer for this band.’ The American smiled, his hand enthusiastically shaking Caitlin’s. ‘By the way, my full name is Rick Young—I’m Blue Sky’s official dogsbody and general “helper-outer”. That means I organise the gigs, make sure the band shows up on time, and most importantly collect the fee at the end of the show. The man standing beside you with the poker face is Jake Sorenson—well-known record producer and the band’s manager. You must have heard of him? Anyway, he’s going to make us all rich one day, like him. You can count on it. If anyone can work miracles round here, Jake can. He’s been in the business so long he’s probably due for a plaque in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.’
‘Very funny.’
Jake didn’t put out his hand for Caitlin to shake. Right then he had the strangest feeling that if he did he wouldn’t want to let it go. If this venture was going to work at all then he needed to maintain the requisite professionalism at all times. The last thing he needed was to get personally involved with Little Miss Hole in her Stocking. The band had been through enough upheaval and disappointment with Marcie walking out. No… If they were going to work together then he was going to play strictly by the rules. He had to, no matter how irresistible the temptation. And if he should at any time forget that vow then all he had to do was remember the scandal that had near crushed him and killed his career.
Taking a sidelong glance at Rick, and seeing that his friend’s avidly appreciative gaze was all but glued to Caitlin, as if only a madman would want to look anywhere else, Jake firmed his resolve. ‘Strictly by the rules’ went for Rick and the guys, too. And, by God, he’d make sure that they knew it.
As the band welcomed Caitlin he saw that their pleasure was absolutely sincere. He also saw how her lovely face lit up at their enthusiastic welcome, how a faint flush of pink stained her cheeks as she strove to handle it, and something told Jake she was definitely an innocent compared to the rest of them. That too could be a sticking point, he reflected…especially in the dog-eat-dog world that was the music business. But, that said, it made a refreshing change to meet someone with hope and enthusiasm in their eyes—someone who wasn’t old and jaded before their time as he probably was…
‘Come into my office, Miss Ryan,’ he invited her. ‘We need to talk in private.’
Vaulting off the stage, Jake strode to the end of the hall, the sound of his boot heels echoing loudly in his wake.
After eagerly helping Caitlin down from the stage, Rick hurried to catch up to his enigmatic boss. ‘Hey, don’t you want me there too?’ he called.
Turning, Jake shook his head, a muscle flexing in the side of his hollowed cheek. ‘Not at the moment, my friend. There’ll be time enough to go over the timetable for rehearsals when we talk later. We’ll have a group meeting tomorrow afternoon so that we can discuss everything. Right now I just want to have a private chat with Miss Ryan’
‘Miss Ryan?’ Rick frowned. ‘What’s wrong with Caitlin?’
Ignoring the comment, Jake turned and opened his office door.
Her trepidation mingling with excitement, Caitlin followed him. The whole experience felt strangely surreal to her. The office that Blue Sky’s charismatic manager was using was a room not much bigger than a generously-sized broom cupboard, she saw. All it contained were two grey plastic chairs and an upturned orange box masquerading as a table. One small window allowed just a paltry glimpse of sky.
Moistening her lips, Caitlin sucked in a breath. Somehow being in such close proximity to Jake Sorenson was ten times more testing than any audition she could imagine. He had the kind of highly charged aura round him that would stir the senses of a blind woman, she mused nervously.
‘Take a seat,’ he instructed.
Feeling undeniably overwhelmed, she complied. When she sat, her knees unavoidably pressed up against the rough wood of the orange box as she strove to make herself more comfortable. Adjusting her coat as she waited for Jake to carry on speaking, she felt her anxiety definitely intensify.
‘You’ve already told me that you have a job. I presume that’s full-time?’ Flipping open the black notebook on top of the box, he started writing inside it.
‘That’s right.’
‘You said you work in a shop? What kind of shop?’ Lifting his head, Jake pinned her to the seat with his pale blue eyes.
‘It’s a shop called Morgana,’ she told him. ‘It specialises in esoteric and personal development books, but we also sell things like incense, Native American jewellery, ambient music and crystals.’
And I love working there, she silently reflected. She shifted in the hard plastic chair. It would be a real wrench to leave that job, but what was the point in having a passion in life if you weren’t planning on doing anything about it? Her friend Lia knew just how much Caitlin loved music, how she loved to sing. And then Caitlin had told her that she’d seen an ad in the post office:
Versatile female singer aged twenty to thirty wanted to front established band specialising in soft rock.
Auditions were being held in St Joseph’s church hall, in the very village where they lived, and Lia had encouraged her to go for it.
‘It must be clear to you that if you want to sing with this band you can’t work full-time in a shop as well?’
Jake didn’t take his eyes off of her as he addressed Caitlin, and the blatant directness of his unsettling blue gaze made her feel as if someone had just curtailed her oxygen supply.
‘Rehearsals start tomorrow afternoon and will continue every day after that for the next three weeks before the band performs in public. After that we’ll be all over the country for an initial three-week tour. Are you ready to commit to such a schedule, Miss Ryan?’
‘I hadn’t really thought about much beyond the audition,’ she confessed honestly, ‘but I realise whoever gets the job will have to be prepared to do regular gigs and eventually tour. So, yes, I am ready to commit, Mr Sorenson. I’ve never wanted anything more.’
‘And you know that means giving up your present job to do so?’
‘Of course.’