Read Online Through the Fire by Donna Hill - Free Book Online Page B

the edge of the engineering table, hoping to discover what was wrong.
    Melvin, the studio engineer, tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Great session, Rae. The tracks are awesome.”
    She blinked, bringing the burly young man into focus. “Thanks, Mel. Won’t be too much longer.” She yawned. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby. You know you’re a genius with those dials. You could make anyone sound good.”
    “Gotta have something to work with, and you definitely have it goin’ on. This CD is gonna make you, Rae, believe me.”
    “We’ll see, sweetie. We’ll see.”
    Mel jerked his head over his shoulder. “You got company up front.”
    Rae frowned curiously and slowly stood, arching her back to work out the kinks. She knew Gail was on a hot date, maybe not to resurface for days, and she hadn’t invited anyone. “Who is it? I wasn’t expecting—”
    “Mr. Q himself,” he said with deference in his tone.
    Her heart fluttered as a sudden heat flushed her body. She didn’t move.
    “Whatever happened with him, anyway? He just kinda disappeared from the scene, and the brother was ba-ad, too.” He shook his head, bewildered, and reached for a control switch. “Shame. Catch you in thirty. We got the studio until two.” He chuckled and started for the door. “Pulled a few strings.”
    Rae nodded absently. “Yeah, uh, thanks, Mel.” She pressed her lips together and tried to think of all the reasons why Quinn would show up here, now, after what was said—what she’d said. She didn’t want to hope. Didn’t dare. She’d witnessed how uncomfortable he seemed whenever he came to the studio, as if he wanted to run, not walk away. How he almost cringed when someone recognized him, asked him toplay, what he was doing, when his next album was coming out. He’d answered in monosyllables as much as possible, or not at all. He’d only come twice, and both times had been at her insistence. Eventually she’d stopped asking him to sit in, stopped asking him to play. It slowly became clear that this was a part of his life that he wanted nothing to do with, wanted the past to stay there. That fact was reinforced to her during her conversation with Gail. So why then was he here? What did it mean?
    Pulling herself together, she headed for the reception area. Whatever it was, she’d deal with it.
     
    On the ride over, he’d tried to figure out what he was going to say. Find the words to explain what he’d been wrestling with for longer than he cared to remember. He wasn’t sure when the changes in him began: if it was the summer visit with his son, meeting Rae, that older woman at Encore, or the constant infusion of hope that Mrs. Finch fed to him. Maybe it was one thing, maybe a combination that had begun to thaw the ice around his soul. Maybe it was nothing more than time passing—changes happening. The only thing he could be sure of was that he had to start somewhere. He gazed around, remembering the many days and nights he’d spent in a studio just like this one. Maybe this was the start. This place, this step. “Hi.”
    The tentative greeting filled him with a sudden warmth that surprised him. Slowly he turned around and when he saw Rae standing there, as lovely as the day he met her, he realized how much he’d missed her—how much more time he’d wasted.
    Quinn stood, taking her in, inch by inch: the way the bronze-colored Lycra pants defined the smooth curves of her legs and thighs; the cotton T-shirt that highlighted rather than diminished the swell of her breasts; the sinewy column of her neck, the warm brown of her face, haloed by the springy twists of chestnut hair.
    “Hey,” he finally murmured in response. He angled his head to the side, looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world. He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants as he slowly approached her.
    The room seemed to shrink around them.
    Rae held her breath, or maybe it was trapped in her chest, she couldn’t