“I’m not sure. I need to think about when I can get away, but probably sooner rather than later.”

“Why can’t I get any hot water?” Rachel asks, and I cringe.

“Don’t worry about it,” I reply. “You can set it in the sink, and I’ll take care of it later.”

“I think you should get that money as soon as possible,” Maeve says, a knowing look in her eyes. “Like, yesterday, Mary Margaret.”

“I just told you, I’d look into it. Don’t nag.”

A quick knock sounds on the door, and then Cameron walks in, stopping when he sees all of us in the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks.

“Nah, it’s just breakfast,” Rachel replies. “Want a pancake?”

“If I can steal Maggie away, I don’t have time for a pancake.”

“Steal her,” Maeve says, waving us off. “I’ll put stuff away and lock up.”

“Are you sure?”

“I know how to lock up,” Maeve says. “Go, have fun.”

I grab my purse and keys and follow Cameron out to his Mustang.

“Where are we going?” I ask once we’re on the road.

“Seattle,” he replies and squeezes my hand. “To Leo Nash’s studio.”

I turn in my seat and stare at him. “What?”

“Just trust me.” He pulls my hand up to his lips. “Don’t worry.”

“You want me to sing with you?”

I look up from the music in my hands and stare at Leo in surprise.

“I do, yes. I’ve heard you sing, Maggie, and I think your voice would sound great on that song. You’d be helping me out.”

I bust up in laughter. “Right.” I can’t stop laughing. “I’d be helping you out.”

Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and I wipe them away.

“I want you on the song,” Leo says and shrugs his shoulders, showing off his ridiculously impressive, tattooed arms.

It’s no wonder Izzy has a huge crush on him. Leo Nash is an incredible specimen of a man.

“When are we doing this?”

“Right now,” Leo replies. “We’re ready for you in the studio.”

“Now?”

“We’re here,” Cam adds. “And we have time.”

Suddenly nervous, I rub my hands on my jeans and then stand and square my shoulders.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

“Right on,” Leo says and wraps an arm around my shoulders as he leads me down a hallway to a recording booth.

It’s bigger than I expected, with a soundboard behind a big, plexiglass window. The studio has microphones and instruments, and Leo’s band is already in their places.

“This is a live recording?” I ask in surprise.