Pepper looked up from the sheet music spread out on the bed in front of her to scowl at Frank where he hovered in the doorway. “Two weeks. I wish you’d stop asking. You’re making me nervous.” Frank pulled a mock pout. “Who else is going to keep you on track if not me?” Pepper snorted. “I’m on track. Do you see the music?” With a dramatic huff, her roommate crossed to the bed and flopped onto it face first, sending the sheets of paper flying. “Frank!” Frank twisted onto his back, threaded his fingers behind his head and grinned at her. “Two weeks and how many times has he called?” Pepper rolled her eyes. “Every day. Now go away. I’m trying to figure out what key to sing ‘Gotta Run’ in.” The day after she’d sung in the converted brownstone in SoHo, Noah had called to say the band was flying out of New York. Each had other commitments to deal with but they would be back ASAP. Pepper had done her best to ignore the pained disappointment in her heart at not seeing him, even as she’d reminded herself that was for the best.
