Read Online Sophie's Encore by Nicky Wells - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nicky Wells
Tags: Humor, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Fiction, Contemporary Women, Women's Fiction
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legendary rock band Tuscq, invited me to take a look at his studio, I could practically see the innuendo written above his head, I started writing. Yet I couldn’t have been more wrong, for Dan had music on his mind. Music, and a master class in recording it the rock star way. He played me the band’s new material and…
The dam broke, and recollection of today’s session poured out in a torrent. For a solid hour, I set down every last detail I could remember and realized I would have to take notes in the future, perhaps take a few photos. Even if the feature was never published, it would serve as a diary of an exciting and unusual experience. Maybe I could blog about it, with Dan’s permission, of course.
I read through my evening’s work again, correcting a few typos here and there, and nodded contentedly. Yes, this would work. I didn’t know what would come out of it, and I didn’t really care. The simple prospect of a project, something to do , filled me with anticipation.
Chapter Twelve
Early Tuesday morning saw me back at Dan’s house, armed with a notepad and a camera.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted, only slightly wearily. The early hour was clearly not his cup of tea. “What have you brought today?”
I smiled sheepishly. “I thought I might take some notes and some photos, if that’s okay with you.”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Well, I started writing down what we did here yesterday, a bit like a diary, and I noticed I had a ton of questions and couldn’t remember everything right. So if you want to show me, perhaps I can learn. You know, properly.”
Dan laughed. “That would be cool. I’d love to teach you.” He eyed me critically. “And you do look like a student. All you need is the—”
“Glasses?” I cut in, whipping my brand new pair of reading glasses out of my handbag and putting them on. I lowered my head so I could ogle him over my half-lenses.
Dan gave a belly laugh. “Now you look like a 1950’s secretary,” he chuckled. “What I was going to say was you need a pen stuck behind your ear.”
He took the biro out of my hand and slid it behind my right ear. “Like so. There, now you totally look the part.”
“Oh.” I took my glasses off again, embarrassed. The touch of his fingers sent tingles down my arm, and I was startled by my reaction to an innocuous little gesture. Dan was oblivious. He took the glasses from me and put them back on my nose.
“Don’t take them off. I like them.” He looked at me with interest, as one might examine an exotic beetle. “When did you get these?”
“A couple of months ago, when I kept getting headaches. They’re only for close work and I don’t need them now.” I swept them off my nose and dropped them into their case and back into my handbag before Dan could interfere again.
He chuckled. “I think they’re very cute,” he reiterated but I didn’t take the bait.
“Shall we get on with it?” I suggested a little brusquely instead, snapping Dan out of his silly mood.
“Okay, yes, of course,” he agreed and led the way downstairs.
He played me the song we had worked on the previous day, and the difference was astounding. “I took your ideas and our work to the studio yesterday afternoon and had our sound man master it properly. It’s not finished,” he hastened to add. “It needs more work, but I wanted to show you exactly what mastering accomplishes.”
“It’s amazing,” I agreed, totally intrigued by the change. “So what did you have in mind? What is it we’re doing here, and how does it fit in with the overall recording of this new album?”
This thought had been bugging me all night. We were working in Dan’s home studio, and I knew the songs would be mixed and mastered in a ‘proper’ studio for eventual mass production. I had wondered how our morning session would fit in.
Dan stopped the music and sat back in his chair.
“This is a critical part of the process. I always
The dam broke, and recollection of today’s session poured out in a torrent. For a solid hour, I set down every last detail I could remember and realized I would have to take notes in the future, perhaps take a few photos. Even if the feature was never published, it would serve as a diary of an exciting and unusual experience. Maybe I could blog about it, with Dan’s permission, of course.
I read through my evening’s work again, correcting a few typos here and there, and nodded contentedly. Yes, this would work. I didn’t know what would come out of it, and I didn’t really care. The simple prospect of a project, something to do , filled me with anticipation.
Chapter Twelve
Early Tuesday morning saw me back at Dan’s house, armed with a notepad and a camera.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he greeted, only slightly wearily. The early hour was clearly not his cup of tea. “What have you brought today?”
I smiled sheepishly. “I thought I might take some notes and some photos, if that’s okay with you.”
Dan raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Well, I started writing down what we did here yesterday, a bit like a diary, and I noticed I had a ton of questions and couldn’t remember everything right. So if you want to show me, perhaps I can learn. You know, properly.”
Dan laughed. “That would be cool. I’d love to teach you.” He eyed me critically. “And you do look like a student. All you need is the—”
“Glasses?” I cut in, whipping my brand new pair of reading glasses out of my handbag and putting them on. I lowered my head so I could ogle him over my half-lenses.
Dan gave a belly laugh. “Now you look like a 1950’s secretary,” he chuckled. “What I was going to say was you need a pen stuck behind your ear.”
He took the biro out of my hand and slid it behind my right ear. “Like so. There, now you totally look the part.”
“Oh.” I took my glasses off again, embarrassed. The touch of his fingers sent tingles down my arm, and I was startled by my reaction to an innocuous little gesture. Dan was oblivious. He took the glasses from me and put them back on my nose.
“Don’t take them off. I like them.” He looked at me with interest, as one might examine an exotic beetle. “When did you get these?”
“A couple of months ago, when I kept getting headaches. They’re only for close work and I don’t need them now.” I swept them off my nose and dropped them into their case and back into my handbag before Dan could interfere again.
He chuckled. “I think they’re very cute,” he reiterated but I didn’t take the bait.
“Shall we get on with it?” I suggested a little brusquely instead, snapping Dan out of his silly mood.
“Okay, yes, of course,” he agreed and led the way downstairs.
He played me the song we had worked on the previous day, and the difference was astounding. “I took your ideas and our work to the studio yesterday afternoon and had our sound man master it properly. It’s not finished,” he hastened to add. “It needs more work, but I wanted to show you exactly what mastering accomplishes.”
“It’s amazing,” I agreed, totally intrigued by the change. “So what did you have in mind? What is it we’re doing here, and how does it fit in with the overall recording of this new album?”
This thought had been bugging me all night. We were working in Dan’s home studio, and I knew the songs would be mixed and mastered in a ‘proper’ studio for eventual mass production. I had wondered how our morning session would fit in.
Dan stopped the music and sat back in his chair.
“This is a critical part of the process. I always
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