Page 148 of The Oscar Escape
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it if I hit double platinum. I know we need to mention it, but it’s not what matters. Not anymore.”
“Got it,” the man answered, leading her toward the green room. “I’ll work on altering the delivery of the information.”
“Thanks, Dom.” She drank in the space. Thanks to growing up with two former rock stars for guardians, she knew this place well. It was a green room like no other, and it wasn’t even green. It was red, like the rocks that framed the venue. A giant red boulder protruded into the living area, forming a unique wall that welcomed the landmark’s natural beauty into the serene waiting space.
“Take a second to center yourself. There are a few more details I need to oversee.” He eyed her outfit. “You’re sure you don’t want to change clothes or run a brush through your hair? What about wiping those breadcrumbs off your lips?”
She scoffed. “I don’t have food on my face, and I like how I look.” She smoothed out the wrinkles on her tank top. “In Boston, you asked me if I was happy. I wasn’t then. I was focused on the wrong things. But I know what I want. I found what brings my heart true joy. I’m meant to be Oscar’s wife. We’re soulmates. This is me, Dom. I’m a lovestruck, lobster-loving music composer.”
“Indeed you are.” He tossed her a wink and headed for the corridor. “Your performance coach will be in to get you where you need to be.”
“Performance coach?” she echoed.
“That would be me.”
Aria spun on her red-booted heel. “Georgia? You’re my performance coach?”
“I am, and my assistant should be along any moment.”
Aria blinked, confirming she wasn’t seeing things. She’d never heard of a performance coach. But that was the least of her questions for the woman. “What are you doing in Colorado?” she pressed.
Georgia crossed the room. The dark tendrils framing her face brushed against her cheekbones as she moved. “My husband and I had some business to attend to here. That’s when I learned you were in the market for a professional to prepare you to take the stage.”
Where would she have heard that?
Aria pushed aside the question. She had greater worries when it came to her relationship with her favorite composer. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you. I figured you’d be angry with me for lying about my identity.”
Georgia maintained her serene countenance. “You never lied to me about that.”
“I did, Georgia.”
“No, you couldn’t lie about something I already knew.”
What?
Aria searched the woman’s face. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t remember because it happened many years ago, but we met briefly when you played at a fundraiser in Denver. You couldn’t have been more than eight years old at the time. Barbara Presley had invited me to attend, and I’m glad I did.”
Aria pictured Georgia’s albums in the Baxter Park house’s attic. “You were close with Babs?”
“Yes, but I would have liked to have seen more of her before she passed. She loved you and spoke of you often. When I heard you play as a child, I was blown away. I had a feeling our paths would cross again. And they did. I knew you were AriaPaige-Grantthe moment your fingers touched the piano keys the day you wowed the planning committee in the schoolhouse.”
And the revelations kept coming.
Aria studied the woman’s serene expression. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you let the others know?”
“You needed Havenmatch Island as much as it needed you—the real you.”
“Havenmatch Island changed me, Georgia. It showed me what mattered in life. It revealed my true purpose.”
A warm grin lit up the woman’s face. “The island knows.”
“It does,” Aria agreed, picturing the cotton candy lobster. That had to be a sign. If it wasn’t, she’d undoubtedly find out soon enough. She glanced at the door. “Is the judge with you?”
“He’ll be along shortly. He’s tying up a few loose ends on a legal matter.”
Aria shifted her stance. “Have you or your husband spoken to Oscar? I left a ticket for him, but I was told he didn’t need it.”
