Page 57 of Sing For Me

I sense more than see Eli come up beside me, though I can see him in my peripheral vision; hope and kindness and feelings wrapped up in six feet, two inches of handsome man.

He rests his elbows on the railing, staring down at the water with me.

“I’m sorry, Reese. You don’t have to use it.”

I can’t help it; I bark out a laugh at the absurd thought of him building that studio for nothing. Then I meet his eye. “I haven’t been inside a studio in years.”

Eli steps toward me and I shiver—from the cold, that terrible memory still flickering in my brain or him—I’m not sure. All I know is when I hold my hands up, running my thumb over my wrist, Eli takes my hands in his.

“You’re shaking,” he says. He unbuttons his coat and presses my hands up against the warmth of his chest.

I blink, the tears that were threatening before now filling my eyes. “It’s so stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Yes, it is. I let someone else tell me I wasn’t good enough. I showed him my vulnerabilities and he…used them against me. He let his own insecurity and sense of failure take precedent over me and my life. I knew, intellectually, that his words were full of shit…but that stuck. And it became this self-fulfilling prophecy. I failed auditions. I sent tapes to producers that never went anywhere, and he said, ‘See? You’re not cut out for this, Reese. You’re a background player.’ Michelle says she could hear it on those tapes, that self-doubt. She said it didn’t sound like me and kept encouraging me to try again. But all I could see was his stupid face.”

“Simon,” Eli says.

I snap my eyes up to meet his. I told him, I remembered. Years ago. I’d confessed my fears to Eli, that I’d let an asshole ruin my life for good. That it was Simon’s fault I was still a server, work I always did because it was the only thing I was good at. Everything else was a pipe dream.

“Fucking Simon,” I whisper.

“Fucking Simon is right.” He pulls my hand from my jacket, the one with the ink on the wrist. The letters stand out stark in the bright light of day.SH.

“This is him, right?”

“Yes.” Sort of.

“Did he tattoo your initials on himself too?”

Eli’s jaw is working hard, and I know he’s restraining his anger.

I shake my head, and Eli looks visibly relieved. “Good. If I knew that scumbag was walking around with your initials on him…”

I smile, sadly. What would he do, exactly? “You know, it took ten years for me to leave him?” I look out at the water again. “Every time I’d try he’d turn into this sweet guy I hardly recognized. He’d turn into you, when you’re not even trying.”

I’m not looking at Eli, so I can’t see his expression. But I’m lost in the past, thinking of how hard Simon had to work to be nice. How it wasn’t until later I realized he’d spoon-feed me compliments and praise not because he meant those things, but because they were props for him to control me. To give him something to point to when I told him he was an asshole.

“I didn’t exactly help, either,” Eli says.

Surprise runs through me at that. “You weren’t anything like him.” But then I go quiet. There’s no denying Eli hurt me too, even if compared to Simon, he was an angel.

Eli looks back up at the hotel. “Listen, I’m sorry if the studio was a shitty idea, but I want you to at least know it’s there for you. Use it if you want to, or don’t. The power will be hooked up on Friday, and I’ll have to go for the inspection booked then, but after that I won’t go there for the whole six weeks we’re…”

The whole six weeks we’re supposed to be pretending to be together.

“Until the show’s done filming,” he finishes with. “After that, you can decide what you want to do. Stay, go, it’s up to you. But I won’t set foot in there until then, unless you want me to.”

I know that deadline will be here before we know it. Kelly told everyone yesterday that the trailer for the show was up on the network’s website and would be on TV next week. By the time the show’s on air, filming will be over, she and Neil will be gone, and all this masquerading with Eli will be over too.

I should be happy—but somehow the thought of all this ending fills me with a numbing sensation. Like I’ve held something cold against me so I can’t feel.

Eli takes my hand again, only this time, it’s to press something into my palm.

The key to the studio.

“The code for the main building is 0925.” He curls my fingers around the key. “There are no strings attached, okay, Reese? Even the pretend dating thing…you’re free anytime. We can tell them you left me for your music. That would be an honorable way for me to get dumped, I think.”

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