Page 98 of Songs for Libby

“Okay.” I sucked down my anger, shoving it into a box. “Can you go now? I need to finish my lunch before my next student gets here.”

More tears welled and overflowed, but she swallowed, nodded and turned to go.

I wasn’t able to eat anything else. My world felt slanted.

Ever since the photo had come out, I’d assumed it was some opportunistic neighbor or teenager, someone who didn’t know me or anything about my life.

The fact that it had been Gemma…it rankled.

I spent the rest of my lunch hour forcing myself to do calming breathing exercises. It worked fairly well. And knowing that the reward money had at least gone toward something worthwhile helped to ease much of the ache.

Still, the betrayal cut deep.

I went through the rest of my lessons, grateful that my last student of the day was a fiery ten-year-old who made me laugh more often than not.

Nick drove me home. Having Nick be my personal chauffeur had been an easy concession to make. After the incident with the reporter, I would have made myself crazy watching my rearview mirror for trailing cars if I’d been the one to drive.

I chewed on Gemma’s confession all the way home and was disappointed when I entered my house to find it empty. I wanted to talk to Sean about what had happened. He would let me scream and be mad and then he would make me feel better.

I walked out the back door, crossing our lawn so that I could knock on his back door, but as I passed his bedroom window I stopped.

“—a great opportunity, Randy, but I can’t do it. Not right now.”

Randy’s voice reached me as well. He was on speaker phone. “Right now is the only time it’s happening, Sean. This benefit concert is the perfect venue for you to come back into the public light and show people you’re still relevant.” I winced at the implication from where I stood leaning against the wall beside his window.

“Still relevant?” Sean’s tone was unconcerned. “I think I’m plenty relevant, thank you very much.”

“Sean, you gotta do this. The longer you’re not performing, the more people are going to move on.”

“Sorry, bud. Not this time.”

“It’s one week. You commit to one week.” Randy made it sound like no big deal. “Are you telling me you can’t even do that?”

“I really am.” Sean’s lack of concern was impressive.

“This is a mistake of career-breaking proportions.”

“I disagree. Thank them for the invite and give them my regrets. Bye, Randy.”

I stayed put, fully prepared to confess to my eavesdropping once he came out. But instead of heading over to my place like I assumed he would, I heard him turn on his shower. Randy must have called as Sean was finishing his workout.

I turned and went back inside my house, pulling out a can of nuts so that I could snack on them as I mulled over what I’d just heard. Sean had turned down a benefit concert. On the one hand, it had been nice to hear him so confidently turn it down, with no regret in his tone. But on the other hand, I was pretty sure he should have taken the gig. It wasn’t a huge tour for months on end. It wasn’t even a solo concert where it would be nothing but him and his screaming fans. A benefit concert with multiple artists would be much more low key. And it would be good for his image. Especially since people thought he and I were having a secret love child.

Or maybe it would just give the hyenas more fodder.

As I settled into the couch, my phone rang. The name “Randy” flashing across the screen made my stomach drop. I’d added his contact information back to my phone when Sean had flown to New York to allow some “accidental” photos to be taken. “Hello?”

“Libby!” He sounded excited or relieved, I wasn’t sure which. “Thank you for picking up. We need to talk about Sean.”

“Okay…”

“The record label is getting nervous, and I mean really nervous. They’re talking about dropping him.”

“How can that possibly be? His album sales are ridiculously high.”

“Sure, sales have been great, when he’s been working. When he’s made appearances and reached out to fans and all that other stuff. But he hasn’t. It’s one thing to stop touring. We could deal with that. But giving his fans the silent treatment?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be forgiven the moment he decides to come back.”