Page 111 of So Not My Thing
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Itugged at the necklineof the black strapless sheath Chloe had loaned me. “Are you sure this is okay?”
We were standing behind our building, the very muffled thump of bass leaking from the back door. As soon as we got the text from Jordan, I would slip in through the backstage entrance instead of through the kitchen, the way I always came and went.
“You look amazing,” Chloe said. “I’m not worried about that. But Ellie, are you sure you want to do this?” She curled her hands around my upper arms and held me in place, staring into my eyes.
I drew a shaky breath. “I’m sure.”
Her hands slid down to take mine. “Your palms are clammy, and I can see your pulse jumping in your throat. This looks like more than stage fright. Don’t do this to yourself. You can find another way.”
I shook my head. It had to be this. It had to be this because Miles would understand exactly what it was costing me to do what I was about to do, and he needed to see the lengths I was willing to go to.
She pulled me into a hug. “You’ve got this. You’re going to be brilliant.”
“You don’t know that,” I said. “You haven’t heard me sing. Not really.”
She gave me a small, secretive smile. “I might have snuck down a few times to listen to you and Miles. You’re amazing.”
I nodded, too preoccupied with what would happen next to feel any pleasure at the compliment.
My phone vibrated in my cleavage, and I pulled it out. It was from Jordan.You’re up next.
Chloe slipped the phone from my suddenly numb fingers. “Go time?”
“Go time.” It was almost a croak.
She looked as if she wanted to object again, but instead she pressed her lips tight and nodded, slipping her hand through mine and leading me through the back door. We took the hall past the dressing rooms, weaving in and out of performers either waiting or decompressing from their performances, then hooked a sharp right. The music grew louder as we neared the stage and the brass ensemble playing. Chloe stopped, and I did too, but she let go of my hand and gave me a gentle push in the middle of my back. The stage was ahead about ten feet, but it might as well have been a mile.
“If you’re going to do this, do it now,” she said. “Because if you don’t take the next step, you’ll regret it.”
“I thought you wanted me to find some other way to get through to him,” I whispered.
“I do, but I know you.Youneed to do this. Go, Ellie.”
I took a deep breath, and she gave me another gentle push. I was wearing the red heels I’d worn for my first appointment with Miles, and I unstuck my feet, the first step shaky on the stilettos, but I forced one foot in front of the other until I crossed the threshold to the stage, and I turned to look at Chloe. She shooed me further in, and I stepped into the darkness of the stage left wings.
The ensemble ended in a crescendo, with the trumpet trilling high and pure, cymbals crashing, the raucous applause of the audience rising above it all.
This was the worst possible act for me to follow, but there wasn’t going to be a good place to slot me in for what I was about to do. Jordan was doing me an enormous favor, and soon I heard his voice blaring out of the speakers as the first members of the brass ensemble ran off the stage, all grinning, the high of their performance written on their faces.
“Let’s give it up one more time for the Horn Dawgs,” he called into the mic, and the audience was more than happy to comply. “All right, we have a change of pace for you,” he said as it began to die down. “We pride ourselves here at the Turnaround on searching out undiscovered talent, and our next performer is the very definition of undiscovered.”
