“Time to enter the dragon’s lair,” declared Garrett once dinner was over on Monday night. “Miss Riley, are you ready to sing for me?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, eager to start rehearsals.
“Remember to warm up,” cautioned Jake, unable to resist the school teacher in him reaching out to his former student.
“Can you show me your routine again?”
“Sure,” agreed Jake. “Will we warm up in the lounge?”
“No, go on ahead to the dragon’s lair,” insisted Garrett. “I’ll be down in half an hour.”
When they were in the elevator, Riley asked Jake, “Why’s it called the dragon’s lair?”
“You’ll see,” he replied with a wink.
“Wow!” exclaimed the teenager a few moments later when she saw the dragon on the door. “That’s stunning!”
“Isn’t it?” commented Jake with more than a hint of pride. “It’s one of my wife’s paintings.”
Opening the door, he allowed Riley to enter the rehearsal space ahead of him. Her eyes were wide with wonder as she walked around admiring all the dragons.
“Your wife painted all of these?”
“Yes, she did,” he confirmed. “I never knew about these till a couple of weeks ago. Neither her nor Garrett said. Think she painted them about ten years ago.”
“I love them,” declared Riley, reaching for her phone. “Do you think Garrett would mind if I take a few photos? I’d love to get this one tattooed on my back. Love the shading on its scales.”
“I’d ask him first,” cautioned Jake, conscious of how private his friend was.
“Of course,” said Riley, respectfully putting her phone back in her pocket. “This place is incredible!”
“Enough,” laughed Jake. “Time to get to work, Miss Riley.”
With a gentle squeal, the door to the dragon’s lair opened almost an hour later and a rather anxious looking Garrett joined them. The two vocalists were just finishing their warm-up. Something Jake had said had tickled Riley’s sense of humour as Garrett watched and the room was filled with her deep husky laughter.
“Good to see you are both taking this seriously,” he teased as he reached for his guitar. “You both ready to make a start?”
“Yes, boss,” replied Jake with a wink to Riley that triggered a second fit of giggles.
“I hope you two won’t be doing that on Friday night!” scolded the older musician, his tone suddenly serious.
“Chill, Garrett,” said Jake. “We were just messing around. Having a bit of fun. Where did you put the lyrics sheets?”
“On top of the piano,” replied Garrett, pointing to the far end of the room.
Quickly, Riley scampered across to lift them then commented, “There’s four here. I only sang on one song on the record.”
“And you’ll sing on all four on Friday night,” countered Garrett. “Plenty of time to learn them and any others we add in.”
“Don’t panic, Miss Riley,” reassured Jake warmly. “We’ll help you. Now, you ready to make a start?”
Looking rather anxious, Riley nodded.
“Let’s start with the one you know,” suggested Garrett. “Jake, you good to play on this one?”
“Sure,” agreed Jake, slipping his own guitar on. “Black Heart Dark Mind.”
Both musicians began to play the southern rock, blues-influenced intro then, after a nod from Jake, Riley began to sing. Her distinctive smoky voice soared, filling the room as she delivered a heartfelt emotional performance. It was the first time Jake had heard her sing since they’d been out at JJL and his heart swelled with pride as she nailed the song at the first time of asking.
“That angel voice deserves to be heard,” declared Garrett, clearly impressed by the youngster. “You’re an old Delta soul in a young woman’s body, Miss Riley.”
Blushing, the tiny green-haired girl said, “Thank you.”
“Sounds like the cue to try Young Eyes Old Soul,” said Jake, checking the tuning of his guitar.
“Cheesy, Mr Power. Too cheesy,” stated Garrett, rolling his eyes and giving a slow shake of his head. “Riley, listen to this one through a couple of times. We’ll play it. You feel where the lyrics come in.”
“Join in when you feel comfortable with it,” added Jake, keen to encourage his former student to stretch herself.
Over the next couple of hours, the three of them honed the song to perfection. During the second instrumental run through, Riley had come in on vocals for the chorus, adding a lighter edge to her voice. Her take on the song differed slightly from the album version but Garrett nodded his approval. With some encouragement from both of her mentors, Riley found the confidence to attempt the full song a few moments later. It was far from perfect but, by the time they were ready to call it a night, all three of them were happy with how it was sounding.
“Same approach tomorrow night,” stated Garrett, setting his guitar back on the stand. “Then it’s you and me on Wednesday. Jake’s got Silver Lake business.”
“Can I come down here myself to work on these?” Riley asked hopefully. “I don’t want to let you both down.”
“Riley,” said Jake warmly. “You’ll be fine. Don’t over rehearse these. We don’t want you straining that voice either.”
“Jake’s right,” added Garrett. “Four nights of rehearsals plus a stage run through at soundcheck on Friday will be fine. Relax about it all.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” laughed Jake as the three of them headed for the elevator. “You need to chill out too, Mr Court.”
“Hmph,” muttered the older musician as the elevator door opened.
An icy wind whistled down Broadway as Jake walked from the gothic palace towards Penn Station. He’d decided against driving down to Philadelphia for the Silver Lake meeting, opting instead to get the Amtrak straight to 30th Street Station. Arriving at the station with a few minutes to spare, Jake just had time to grab a coffee before boarding the train. Once seated, he messaged
