Page 114 of Drive
“Well, what have we here?” she crooned, taking in the three of them but letting her eyes settle on Archie. “Hey,puppy.”
The woman — who looked to be in her mid-twenties — wore old-fashioned white-rimmed cat-eye glasses, and she styled her jet-black hair in a high ponytail that flipped up at the ends like a cartooncharacter’s.
When she said nothing more, Rainey stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Um… i-is Doc Dylan Reeves recording heretoday?”
The woman blinked at her, a veil of detached professionalism settling over her features. “I’m sorry, but all of our session bookings are private and off-limits to the public.” She spoke as though she’d memorized the little speech and had delivered it countlesstimes.
Rainey balked at the woman’s canned pronouncement, but she made herself step forward. “We’re not the public,” she said and then shook her head. “I mean, I know Dylan Reeves. He’s myfather.”
With her eyes shuttering in stunned surprise, the woman inched back. “I-I beg yourpardon?”
Rainey took another step farther into the room, her nerves leveling off a little. As promised, Jacques remained right by her side. “I’m Rainey Reeves, and I need to see my dad. Is hehere?”
The woman’s mouth fell open slightly as though Rainey had said something shocking and unpleasant. Rainey frowned at her response that seemed so out ofplace.
“You’re hisdaughter?”the woman asked, stressing the word as though it werescandalous.
“She’s said it twice,” Jacques answered, his voice forcing both women to look up at him. “Is the man here ornot?”
This shook the receptionist out of her stupor, and she stammered. “Y-yes. They’re in the middle of a session right now, but he’s here.” She strode over to the desk near the front windows. “I-I’ll just leave word that you’re here, MissReeves.”
“Thank you.” Rainey said the words almost without realizing. Her attention was lost on the woman’s obvious distress. Why was Rainey’s presence sodisturbing?
The woman sat down at her desk and typed a quick missive on her sleek laptop. An email? A chat message? Rainey couldn’t be sure. Whatever it was, she knew it would make absolutely no noise in the recordingstudio.
Rainey looked up at Jacques to see his eyes on her. His bore a question, and she read immediately what itmeant.
Are youokay?
She gave a slight lift of her chin to indicate that she was, indeed, okay — even if her legs shook beneath her, and her stomach wanted to turn itself inside out. Jacques stepped closer, entwined their fingers, and eased into her space. As though her space were theirspace.
She looked up into his eyes, those dark pools of warmth. And her legs grew steadier, her breath comingdeeper.
The sound of tapping drew her attention away from Jacques, and she found the receptionist watching her, the tip of her pen beating a rapid staccato against her deskblotter.
Their eyes held for an awkward moment, prompting Rainey to speak. “Any idea how long they’llbe?”
The woman inhaled, and her lips parted, but she didn’t speak immediately. “It shouldn’t be muchlonger.”
She stood then, her eyes never leaving Rainey. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and openlystared.
Beside her, Rainey felt Jacques shift evencloser.
A scurrying sound came from the hall to their right just as the receptionist spoke again. “I didn’t knowthat—”
“Rainbow, what are you doing here?” Larry practically raced into the lobby and came to a halt in front of them, his wide eyes moving from Rainey to Jacques and back. Rainey hadn’t seen Larry since he’d come down with her dad one weekend in October. The man she’d known all her life looked the same — even if his graying mane held a little grayer. But it was clear to Rainey that while he looked the same, he also looked surprised, and Rainey sensed that it wasn’t pleasantlyso.
“Hi, Larry. Good to see you,” she said pointedly. “I need to talk to mydad.”
Her answer, which should have been obvious, didn’t seem to register or affect Larry at all. He still wore his look of surprise. His mouth worked a few times before he actually spoke. “I-I wish you would have called,” Larry said, running a hand over his hair and accentuating his already pronounced, dead-center part. One either side of it, his gray hair fell in matching waves. His feathered style would have been right at home in 1982. “We’re in the middle of an album, and you know how long the hours are.I—”
“I know, Larry, but I’m here now, and I need to see him.” Rainey worked successfully to keep any pleading notes out of her voice. She felt the urgency, but Rainey refused to let herself sound like she was asking for something she wasn’t entitled to. He was her father, for Christ’ssake.
Larry just gave her a helpless shrug. “I’m just saying it may be hours before we call it a day,and—”
She felt Jacques stiffen beside her, but she spoke first.“Call it a day?Larry, I’m not waiting for him to finish an album. I want to talk to himnow.”
That’s when Rainey noticed the sweat beading near his temples. Why the hell was he trying to keep her from talking to her father? What was he afraidof?
