Free His Melody by Nicole Green Page B

walked over and sat next to him.
    “Hand me that,” she said, pointing at one of the crates that rested on the floor.
    He picked up the crate and set it in her lap.
    She began thumbing through the album sleeves. “M.C. Lyte,” she said, pausing to look at one of the covers.
    He fingered the brightly colored album cover, his hand brushing against hers in the process. “That’s one of my favorites.”
    “Really?” She turned to look at him. A mistake because his eyes had a hypnotic effect on her.
    He nodded.
    She moved her gaze from the bristles of blond hair on his head to his strong jaw line and then down to appreciate the way his T-shirt fit over his biceps and pecks. She couldn’t help herself. It’d been so, so long. Since the divorce. And her ex-husband was the only man she’d been with since her junior year in college when they started dating. She bet—hoped? No, hoping was not the right thing—Austin could do things to her that her ex had never even heard of. Well, whether it was the right thing or not, she definitely hoped he could. More than that, she wanted him to.
    Trying to turn her attention to something else, she asked, “How many records do you have?”
    He grinned. “Lost count a while ago.” He sat back on the loveseat and rested his arm over the top of the seat cushions. “I didn’t use all of this for D.J.’ing, but it’s all music I love.”
    “I see.” It was clear he loved music as much as she did if not more.
    Once again, she was fascinated by what she learned about Austin. That didn’t help her deal with her constant desire to touch him one bit. She was very much aware of how close the arm he’d slung over the top of the sofa was to the back of her neck.
    “You know what I’d love to do?” Besides you , she added that last part silently. She wanted to share a little of herself with him because he’d shared so much with her that night.
    “What?”
    “I want to be a music manager. Nobody to tell me what to do or when to do it. I could help artists pursue their dreams instead of being the one to curb those dreams because I have to keep some record company’s bottom line in mind. I already have a few people in mind who could be huge with the right management.” Her heart sank a little as this made her think about the hard call she’d had to make to the manager of the R&B group in Miami. When she’d had to tell him she wouldn’t be at the club Monday night, she’d felt like the walls were caving in around her. The group would be taking the stage in less than forty-eight hours and some lucky person would discover them. Her dream would become someone else’s reality in less than two days.
    “Why haven’t you done it yet?” Austin asked, breaking into her thoughts. “You probably have lots of contacts at the record labels and all the other right places. You’ve worked in the industry since you got out of college, right?”
    “Yeah,” she said, distracted by the fact that he’d been paying so much attention last night when they’d talked for hours. She’d told him that right after college and getting her C.P.A. license, she’d started out in the accounting department at a division of a major record label in California. She’d barely mentioned her ex who’d been a vice president there. The same ex who’d been the reason she moved clear across the country and back home to Georgia so she could start over free and clear of his shadow.
    “So you could let them know you’ve jumped to the other side, decided to be a manager,” Austin said. “You could let those artists you mentioned having in mind know that you could help them with their careers. Instead of looking for a job, you can create your own. Why not go for it?”
    “I don’t have enough money saved.” She said it more defensively than she meant to, but he’d touched on a question she asked herself constantly. A question Jen also kept putting to her. “After this little fiasco, I don’t know when