Page 13 of Bewitched By the Siren
I just nod, deciding not to push it. He could argue that I love to sing, and I should be pursuingthatcareer, and I really don’t want to argue with him right now. I’m enjoying some great food, good beer, and though I’m loathe to admit, excellent company. I don’t want to ruin that.
The beer and tacos loosen us both up, and when we finish eating, we decide to sit out on his back deck, listening to the waves as we chat about…everything. His life in L.A. Mine here. Our hobbies. Our pet peeves.
“So, what’s your family like?” he asks after finishing a hilarious story about his dad mowing his lawn in his underwear.
My body goes tense. I haven’t mentioned my mom to him. Not her illness. Certainly not the fact that I was “adopted.”
And I’m not ready to talk about her with him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“It’s getting late. I should probably go,” I say, rising out of the chair and offering him my empty beer bottle.
I don’t give him a chance to argue. With a wave and one final thanks for dinner, I jog down the steps and march toward my house. I don’t look back. I don’t want to see his confusion or his disappointment.
We had a surprisingly wonderful time together, and if I just ruined it all, I don’t want to know. And if my suddenly cold shoulder makes him realize he doesn’t have a shot with me, either personally or professionally, that’s a good thing, right? He can just grab a flight back home and forget he’s ever even heard of me.
Yeah. It’s a good thing. Definitely.
CHAPTER NINE
Brendan
Was it something I said?
Tonight was amazing, but Hali bolted the second I asked about her family. Obviously, that topic is off-limits. No bringing up her family. I’ll have to remember that for next time.
Because therewillbe a next time. I’m sure of it.
I take a sip of my beer as I continue to replay the whole evening in my head. Tonight changed some things for me. Sure, I still need to make the deal with her to save my ass with Julius and kickstart my career, but those are no longer the only reasons I plan on spending time with Hali this week.
I actuallylikeher. I like being around her. I like the way she makes me feel when she looks at me. Laughs at my jokes. Rolls her eyes when she disagrees with something I’m saying.
She’s got this armor wrapped tightly around her, making her seem uptight and standoffish, but I got a peek through some of the cracks in her shield tonight. Saw the parts of her she’s been trying to keep hidden from me.
For one, she’sfunny. I laughed more tonight than I have in years. And the way she hoovered those tacos without a hint of self-consciousness? A girl after my own heart, for sure.
I could tell she was really listening when I talked, and she never once tried to dominate the conversation or make it about herself. Sure, I would’ve liked her to open up to me a bit more than she did, but we have time for that.
Or do we?Shit. I might only have five more days with her. If I don’t get some kind of recording for Julius this weekend, will I be able to convince him to give me more time? Or will he order me home and send another agent to take my place?
The pressure to deliver sits like a heavy ball of tension in my gut, erasing the contentment I felt just a few moments ago. It doesn’t matter how much I like Hali. I’m here to do a job, and I have to get it done. My whole life back in California depends upon it. I don’t know what I’d do if Julius were to fire me. Failure simply isn’t an option.
I polish off my beer, then get up to go get a fresh one from the fridge inside. After grabbing a light jacket––it’s getting cooler and cooler out there by the minute––I pull it on and take my new bottle back out onto the deck. I’m not ready to go to bed, and the view from here is gorgeous, even in the dark.
The briny breeze and sound of the waves soothes me into a completely relaxed state within moments. This isn’t supposed to be a vacation, but it sure does feel like one despite the urgency I felt earlier. I didn’t know just how much I needed a break from my crazy schedule and the hustle and bustle of the city. As much as I love L.A., there’s a lot to be said about the serenity of this tiny island off the Georgia coast.
I suddenly hear music tinkling beneath the roar of the waves, and I look around to find its source. Standing up, I lean over the railing and strain my ears, pinpointing the location within afew seconds. It’s coming from a cracked-open window in Hali’s house.
There a slight echo, a hollowness that tells me it’s coming from a bathroom. Is Hali taking a bath right now? Does she like bath bombs or bubbles? And does she––
Nope. Full stop. No thinking about a potential client naked and slippery in a bathtub.
I turn to go back inside, but then a voice rings out, singing along with the music, and I freeze. I recognize Hali’s voice from her performance last night, but for some reason it sounds…off.Different. It’s not the pitch or the tone. Not the amount of vibrato. Not the key in which she’s singing. All of that is the same, and is just as amazing as it was when she was on stage.
I struggle to figure out the difference as I listen, then it hits me. It’s not her performance, itself, but the way her singing makes me feel. Last night, I hung on every note like it might be the last thing I’d ever hear. I felt a flash of obsession that heated my bones and made my skin itch. Like I’d never experienced anything so beautiful. So…hypnotic. Like I might actually die if she didn’t keep singing.
And now? Now, I’m definitely enjoying her impromptu and unbeknownst-to-her performance, but it’s not invoking all those exaggerated emotions. It’s just pleasant. Emotion-evoking, sure, but nothing as dramatic as last night. Weird.
Maybe it’s because I can’t see her. Or that I’m eavesdropping through her bathroom window instead of listening in a bar where the crowd’s excitement is contagious and overwhelming. Or maybe it’s the lack of sound equipment. Speakers, microphones, and synthesizers. Flashing lights and pulsing energy.
