Page 15 of Catastrophically Yours
"So," Piper said carefully, "what's your gut telling you?"
Drew pushed her hair back. "My gut says this could be huge for my career. But also that working with Chris again feels like stepping backward." She looked directly at Piper. "What would you do?"
The question caught Piper off-guard. Drew was asking for genuine guidance, not polite input.
"I think," Piper said slowly, "you should consider what you want your career to look like. Not just the destination, but the path to get there."
Drew nodded thoughtfully. "Chris always focused on the destination. Big labels, national tours, radio play. All the external markers of success."
"And what do you focus on?"
"Connection, I guess. Making people feel something. Finding ways to share stories that matter." Drew's voice grew stronger. "Last night, before Chris showed up, I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be. Like the music was working the way it's supposed to work."
"Sounds like you already know what you want to do."
"Maybe." Drew reached across the table, briefly covering Piper's hand with her own. "Thank you. For listening without trying to decide for me."
The contact sent warmth up Piper's arm. "That's what friends do."
Drew's expression softened. "Is that what we are? Friends?"
The question hung between them, weighted with possibilities Piper wasn't ready to examine. "What else would we be?"
"I don't know," Drew admitted. "But it feels like more than that sometimes."
Piper's heart hammered, but before she could respond, her phone alarm chimed—time to get ready for work. The moment dissolved.
"Rain check on that conversation?" Drew asked.
"Rain check," Piper agreed, though she wasn't sure either of them would be brave enough to bring it up again.
Walking to work, Piper found herself hoping Drew's right choice wouldn't take her away from whatever they'd been building together. But she also knew that if it did, she'd have to find a way to be okay with that too.
Some things were worth the risk of losing.
SEVEN
UNSPOKEN MELODIES
The morning light filtered through Piper's kitchen window, casting geometric patterns across the pristine hardwood table where Drew sat motionless. Her phone lay flat before her, Chris's showcase details glowing on the screen like a dare she wasn't sure she could accept. The deadline loomed—respond by noon, or lose the opportunity forever. Her finger hovered over the keyboard, then pulled away as if the device might burn her.
Pickle wound between her ankles, his substantial fifteen-pound frame pressing against her legs with the intuitive sense cats have for human distress. The orange tabby's purr vibrated through the silence, offering comfort she wasn't sure she deserved. After all, even her emotional support cat had chosen Piper over her.
"Hey, beautiful," she whispered, reaching down to stroke his head. For once, Pickle didn't dart away to find Piper. Maybe he sensed how desperately she needed the connection.
The sound of Piper's bedroom door opening made Drew straighten, quickly shoving her phone face-down. When Piper emerged, dressed in her usual crisp white shirt and navy blazer, something in Drew's posture must have broadcast her turmoil. Instead of heading straight to her color-coded calendar or thecoffee maker—the typical morning ritual Drew had observed for weeks—Piper paused.
Their eyes met across the apartment's open layout. Piper's gaze swept over Drew's rumpled pajamas and the tension in her shoulders before settling on her face.
"You're up early." Her voice carried none of its usual brisk efficiency. She crossed to the kitchen, but instead of beginning her morning routine, she pulled out the chair beside Drew and sat down. The simple gesture felt enormous.
Drew's throat tightened. This woman who guarded her personal space so carefully was offering proximity, concern, presence. "Couldn't sleep."
"The showcase?"
The question hung between them, loaded with everything they weren't saying. Drew nodded, then forced herself to speak past the knot in her chest. "Chris wants an answer by noon. It's..." She gestured helplessly at her phone. "It's exactly what I've been working toward. A major label showcase, real industry attention. But working with him again..."
Her words trailed off as she watched Piper's face for any flicker of judgment. Would Piper think she was being dramatic? Overcomplicating what should be a straightforward business decision?
