My Brother's Best Friend(14)

He was struggling to keep a straight face. “Fine, I’ll just put these in the sink then and clean them when we get back. I’ll wait in the car.”

I stubbornly marched up the stairs to my room, grabbed my satchel bag, and slipped on my black flip-flops then hurried downstairs and out the door.

“You really didn’t change?” he asked when I climbed in the front seat of his Audi R8

“Nope.” I smiled, and he shook his head.

“You can be so stubborn sometimes, CJ.”

“And you can be so rude and overbearing. We go so perfectly together,” I said sarcastically. “So why exactly are you going into work on a Sunday?”

“The director didn’t like one of the songs the cast sang for next week’s episode so he had everyone come in to re-record and re-shoot it.”

I nodded my head as if I knew what he was talking about. About the only thing I really knew was that Devin does work with mixing sound in a studio.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked when I noticed the smirk on his face.

“Nothing, it’s just you have no idea what’s about to happen, do you?” He chuckled to himself at his own private joke.

I smacked his arm. “Your evil laughter is starting to scare me. What’s about to happen?”

“Nothing to worry about now.” He smirked, and I knew I needed to start to worry.

I went back over everything he had said and gasped as I suddenly realized. “There will be people there!” I nearly shouted, startling Devin into pushing the brakes. “Why didn’t you tell me people would be there? The cast, no less! Oh my god, you have to turn this car around and go back. I have to change!”

He was openly laughing now, and I smacked him hard. He merely rubbed his arm and continued laughing. “I told you I’d wait for you to get ready.”

“No, you said you’d clean the dishes while I got ready.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You didn’t just say it, you looked me over like I was hideous and to prove to you I wasn’t worried about my appearance, like you were, I didn’t change,” I said, sticking my chin out a little, pretending I really didn’t care that I was about to meet a cast full of really amazing and famous singers.

Devin looked over at me briefly. “I didn’t mean to give you that impression.”

“What impression were you trying to give me? I mean seriously, Dev, you were looking me over like I wasn’t good enough.”

“You are definitely good enough just as you are, CJ. I never meant to give you the impression that you weren’t. And you obviously haven’t had many men look at you the way I was looking at you if your reaction is to think I was criticizing your appearance.”

I couldn’t say anything I was so shocked. Was he really admitting he thought I looked attractive? I must have looked skeptical because his next statement confirmed my question.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. God, Christy, you don’t even need makeup to look good, you could wear a potato sack and still make heads turn. You’re wearing pajamas, for Christ’s sake!” He cleared his throat and I felt like I needed to clear mine.

“Thanks. I guess,” I managed to say.

Devin just chuckled and for some reason it made me angry. I mean, sure he told me I looked good, but for what, so he could see my embarrassment? But before I could ask him any questions about what he was really trying to do, he pulled up to the gate of the studio. He flashed his work badge at the small box situated next to an empty guard shack and slowly the gates began to open.

“Looks like everyone’s already here,” Devin said as he pulled into a parking space close to the building he worked in. There were several cars in the lot already I noted as we walked toward the large building in front of us. He flashed his badge again at the black box next to the door and it unlocked. “You remember where it is, right?”

I had been here only once before, but I still remembered. We passed the empty reception desk and walked toward the elevators. As the elevator doors opened, Devin’s cell phone chirped in his pocket. He pulled it out and quickly answered.

“Who was that?” I asked, because honestly, I wanted to know but more importantly, I wanted to breech the awkwardness between the two of us that had begun in the car.

“Robert. They’re waiting for me in the studio.” Robert was the music producer, who not only worked with the actors and the series music department but also with the series sound department.

When we exited onto the third floor where the recording studio was, I held him back. “Hey, we’re okay, right? I’m sorry for getting weird. I’m just not used to compliments, I guess. And when you laughed after I thanked you, well, I just thought you were saying it to embarrass me.”