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He rose from the booth, and I stood too, taking care not to knock over the remains of my latte.

Hudson glanced at the stained corner of my coat.

“You might want to get some cold water on that when you get home.”

“I will. Although I’m beginning to think the universe is trying to tell me something about wearing cream and wool around beverages.”

“Could be. Or maybe you just need a lid that fits.”

I laughed.

He held the diner’s door open for me, letting in a gust of chilly afternoon air scented with woodsmoke and fallen leaves.

Outside, the town square was beginning to fill with people carrying shopping bags and boxes of autumn decorations. Strings of lights hung between lampposts, and a banner advertising Fall Fest stretched across the street.

Hudson paused beside the entrance.

“I need to head back to work and make sure the crew’s covered. Oliver’s sending the details, so I’ll look those over before I come by.”

“Of course. Thank you for being willing to try.”

He smiled, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You know, Peyton, I’ve had some unusual job offers over the years, but this one’s going to be hard to beat.”

“I’ll try to make it a pleasant experience.”

His smile widened.

“I’m counting on it.”

Then he turned toward a dark pickup parked farther down the street, leaving me standing outside the diner with my tablet, my stained coat, and a thoroughly unreasonable fascination with the way he said perfectly ordinary things.

I watched him walk away for a moment before turning toward my own car.

Good grief.

I was going to be working with that man in a room barely large enough for two people and a microphone.

What could possibly go wrong?

By the time I returned to the cottage, the afternoon light had begun to soften, casting long shadows across the lawn. I hung my coat near the kitchen door, treated the latte stain with cold water, and made myself a quick sandwich before returning to the recording room.

There was work to do.

I checked the microphone stand, adjusted the pop filter, and moved one of the portable acoustic panels to give Hudson more room. At his height, he’d need the stand considerably higher than I did, and I wanted him to be comfortable without compromising the sound.

I also arranged a second chair near the workstation, set out a clean copy of the audition pages, and placed a bottle of water beside the microphone.

After a brief equipment check, I listened to the room tone through my headphones. No traffic, no refrigerator hum, and thankfully no furious squirrel rattling around on the porch.

Excellent.

I shut down the test recording and looked at the audition pages.

Drake’s first passage was a fairly simple exchange with Isadora, followed by a scene requiring considerably more emotion and intimacy.

I turned to that page and read the highlighted dialogue.