Page 98 of Almost Perfect
I’d sent her two songs earlier today, funneling all my sadness and poor-me misery into preparing to sing with her and using that to help me avoid the total breakdown I wanted to have.
Not long after she’d dropped me off, I snuck into the side entrance of the opulent bar of the Silver Ridge Hotel. The hotel itself had earned all the highest accolades a luxury hotel could earn, and the bar had been featured in numerous “must see” lists.
And Quinn had been mentioned by name as an attraction worth seeing in more than one of them. As I slid into a low seat the host showed me, a leather club-style chair at a polished wood table, I had a perfect view of the stage. A perfect view of Quinn transformed.
She was normally a beautiful woman. I’d thought it at our first meeting in the shop, then when she’d hardly spoken on my first date with Wyatt, and every other time I’d seen her. But the sheer joy that glowed around her as she sang, a jazz band behind her plucking and strumming, was astounding.
My heart recognized it for what it was: a woman doing what she was called to do. My whole body longed for that for myself, and the anxious twist in my stomach doubled when the song came to an end and she nodded right at me.
I slung my guitar over a shoulder and took a seat on the stool she’d pulled up next to her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, a friend is going to join me for a song or two. These are new, and the band will be sitting them out. I’m going to hop on the keys, and we’ll get this one out for you. My good friend May would like to share some things with you.”
The minute I’d stepped on stage, the low hum had ratcheted up. Any hope I’d had of being anonymous was lost, but at this point, there was no going back. After seeing Quinn up there, music making her shine even brighter than she normally did, I wanted this.
And then, I played my songs.Mysongs. Once the nerves settled, I felt that glow I’d seen minutes before on Quinn. I knew my answer earlier today had been right—I couldn’t leave this behind. As much as it broke my heart to walk away from Wyatt, and even Silverton, I couldn’t abandon the career I’d built over the last decade. But maybe I could take a different path, and only time would tell if my record company would go for it.
And in some small way, I knew that would be honoring Candy. For all the sacrifices she’d made—she had made as many sacrifices as she’d gained privileges—I could go on to live and work well.
The second song came to an end, and everyone clapped riotously. Quinn shook my shoulder, then pulled me into a hug. “They’re amazing, and I hope this gives you the courage you need.”
I nodded, my heart so full, it threatened to leak out my eyes. Then I grabbed the mic. “Thanks, everyone. And now, back to our beloved Quinn Darling.”
With my guitar in hand, I hustled off stage, past an unsmiling Julian Grenier at the bar who only dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Clearly, he had no desire to chat, for which I was thankful.
Adrenaline coursed through me so hard I shook, but I kept going right on out of the bar, not in the mood to talk to anyone. Anyone but—
“Wyatt?” He was here, his long legs eating the ground between us to catch me where I stood by the elevator.
“You were incredible.”
He wore a dark suit and white shirt open a button or two. No tie. His hair looked styled but not stiff, and his beard had been trimmed close. He looked the nearest thing to a fantasy I could imagine except I wouldn’t have conjured him up in a suit. He would’ve been wearing his worn-in jeans that fit him just right and a tight shirt of some kind because the architecture of his chest should be showcased at every possible moment.
So this had to be Wyatt in real life. And of course it was. In the crush of nervous energy to get the songs done, I’d forgotten I’d told him eight to ten, and he’d no doubt been ten minutes early.
“You came.”
“Of course I came.” He stepped closer, not quite crowding me. “Were those your songs?”
“Yes. Quinn’s idea.”
His smile hit me like a knife to the chest, if such a thing could be both painful and glorious.
“Brilliant.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors slipped open. He glanced at the open car, then back at me.
“Come up with me. We can talk in private.”
He’d said he wanted to talk, and I wanted that too. On the post-performance high, I wanted everything, and the dread of what he’d said that’d clung to me earlier was all but forgotten.
The door slid closed behind us, and we stared at each other. Had his eyes gotten even more blue? He’d definitely taken his magic handsome man pills today becausedanghe did it for me. Even with all the mixed-up mess between us, he did.
And the heat in his eyes said he felt the same way. My heart shook my body as it pounded out of control in my chest, and as though the gun went off at the starting line, we each took a step closer.
He dipped his chin and his hands hovered at my jaw, like he was cradling the air around it instead of touching me fully. “I know we have so much to discuss… but I want—”
Thedingof the machine sounded and the doors banged open. His hands dropped, and he waved a hand out to hold the doors open. Mind still back with his lips inches from mine, I reluctantly left the small space and led the way to my room.
