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Her hand slices the air in front of her. “We can’t look back. We have to move forward. Even if you had told me, honestly, I still would have signed you.”
“Really?”
“This isn’t a deal breaker. Besides,” she sits next to me, “I need you. Or someone else with equal parts desperation and talent. And you have talent, Luke, don’t forget that.” She reaches over, her hand a slight weight on my forearm, gone after a brief second of contact.
Despite the apprehension of the past fifteen minutes, her simple touch triggers a shock of awareness, zipping up my arm before spreading heat through the rest of me.
Pull it together, Luke.
“Thank you for being so understanding. I hope you’re also very patient.” I glance around. “Any ideas on where you can hide from view?”
ChapterTen
Mindy
I can’t believe I’m sitting on the floor in the kitchen, out of sight, waiting for Luke to play for me. This is not how I envisioned this going.
The day started out great. Finley made breakfast. I ate eggs and pancakes with my family for the first time in months. Jake was his silly, goofy self. Archer and Finley were annoyingly in love. It was fantastic.
Plus, I’ve been looking forward to working with Luke since I first listened to him sing.
My ears perk up when he plucks at the strings and jaunty notes flick through the air. It sounds better than his attempts when I was in the room with him.
He plays for a few minutes. Then a few minutes more. The tune is fun. Peppy. A little more complex than the chords from the other song I listened to. It sounds almost like a sea shanty or something.
I shift on the sofa pillow underneath me.
He’s playing but not singing.
More time passes.
This might be bad. This might be very, very bad. What if this doesn’t work?
I put on a brave face for Luke’s benefit—this has to work. We’ve both signed this contract. We have to make this happen. There’s no choice.
Part of me wanted to yell at him, but a much stronger part just couldn’t. His face was miserably adorable, brows furrowed, eyes dark with guilt. It would be like shouting at a puppy. There’s something about Luke that makes it hard to hang onto any kind of anger. He’s so authentic and somehow charming. Even in his mortification he was boyishly earnest.
The chords are getting stronger, more assured.
Please don’t let this all be a giant mistake.
He sings. Low, at first, almost inaudible. Then louder.
His voice breaks, but without a pause in the strum of the guitar, he starts over. Again and again. Even when his words stutter and stumble, he keeps going, he keeps trying.
The persistence is promising. I have to trust that he meant it when he said he would fulfill the terms of the contract. Failure is not an option.
Then he finally sings.
It will all be okay
As long as you pay pay pay
Give us all your money
Plus your blood sweat and tears
Don’t worry about morals or scruples
