by Leah Atwood
“Is there anyone at the center, higher than Mrs. Cohen, whom you can call?”
Maisy shook her head. “No. She had the director of human resources with her.”
“Call a lawyer?” Roxy scrunched her face. “Or do you even want to pursue any type of action?”
“No. All I want is to live my own life, free from my father’s control.” A heavy breath relieved little pressure from her chest. “Is that so much to ask?”
“For your father, yes.” A pin could have dropped in the room and been heard. Roxy pressed a hand against her mouth. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. Sadly, it’s true and you know that better than anyone.”
“He’s not entirely bad.”
Maisy rose her brow, daring Roxy to name a single positive thing about her father. Maybe when she wasn’t so mad, she could think of one herself.
“He’s philanthropic.”
“Tax write-offs.” As a father and a businessman, Vincent Rothchild did nothing that didn’t benefit him.
Roxy gave her a sympathetic smile. “I really am sorry. For everything.” She bent to pick something off the floor, then sat upright again. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” Thanks to a trust fund and years of practice dealing with a controlling father. “There are jobs out there, I just might have to move far away to escape my father’s iron hand.”
“You won’t really move, will you?” A hitch in Roxy’s voice made her cough. “I mean, I’ll understand if you do, but I don’t want you to.”
“No worries yet. I came straight here after it all went down and haven’t had time to think about the future yet.”
“I’ll be praying for you.”
In the past months, Roxy’s words of God and prayer had always slid over Maisy. They hadn’t been unwelcome but glossed over her in a vacant spectrum with no meaning. This time they landed on her ears. Although she didn’t know what she believed about God and had yet to see evidence He was looking out for her, Roxy’s statement soothed her. If there really was a God, it was nice to know someone cared enough to beseech Him on her behalf.
“Thanks.” She twirled her thumbs, not sure what the proper protocol was after someone told you they were praying for you. “I’m not sure what good they’ll do, but I appreciate the thought.”
Biting her bottom lip, Roxy looked at her with a hopeful but hesitant expression. “You know, if you ever want to know more, all you have to do is ask.”
“I’m not there yet, but I appreciate that you don’t force your beliefs on me.”
Roxy went to the sink and wetted a paper towel. She returned to her daughter and wiped her face free of carrots and bananas. Reached under the high chair and pulled a latch. The tray slid forward and Roxy pulled Hallie free. “I have news that will make you happy.”
Ears perked, Maisy inched forward in her seat. “Tell me, please. I could use a smile about now.”
“I’ll give you a hint.” A large grin appeared as Roxy tapped her jaw, pretending to think. “Two words—Bryce Landry.”
“Jesse got you tickets to see him for your anniversary?”
“Ha, yeah right. Like we could afford those.” The smiled widened, nearly reaching her ears. Even Hallie, sitting in her mom’s lap, beamed, as though she could sense the enthusiasm.
It had to be something huge. Maisy wracked her brain. “Dominic met him?”
“Close.”
“Wait a minute….” Didn’t I read somewhere that Bryce’s guitarist was leaving the band? She pointed to a picture on the fridge of Dominic flanked by his niece and nephew several years ago. “You don’t mean…” Excitement tied her tongue.
“Yes.” A high-pitched squeal pierced Maisy’s ears. “My baby brother is Bryce Landry’s new guitarist. The official announcement will come next week.”
“Wow.” She clapped her hands, then rested them under her chin. “That’s huge. I’m so happy for him.”
“He’s made it, Maisy. He finally did it.” A faraway look glazed Roxy’s eyes.
“I always knew he would.” But I should have been with him when it happened.
Roxy set Hallie on the floor, giving her the space to crawl. “You know what that means?”
“What?” She still tried to wrap her mind around Dominic—her Dominic, as she still thought of him even though it was long over—realizing his dream.
“There’s nothing to keep you apart now.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Maisy snorted. “There’s a thousand reasons why. The top of which, he hates me.”
“There’s a thin line between love and hate.” Roxy frowned. “I’d bet my last dollar that he still loves you.”
“For the sake of argument, let’s say he did. It still doesn’t change anything.” She pinched her eyes, filling the darkness with visions of what might have been. When she opened them, a single tear fell. “What am I supposed to do? Show up at his door and say, ‘Hey, I know I left you years ago because my dad didn’t think you were good enough for me, but now that you’re going to be famous can we get back together?’ Because that will go over real well.”
“Tell him the truth.” Roxy stood. “Don’t you think it’s time?”
Maisy’s teeth grazed her lip. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t you think it’s a sign that your father had you fired and pulled his old stunts at the same time Dominic found his success? There’s nothing to stop you from going to him.”
“Pride, rejection, history, my father.” She stood, staring at the floor, afraid to let her emotions show.
Roxy placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “There’s nothing your father can do anymore that can’t be handled. And the rest, isn’t it worth the risk?”
“I need time to think it through.” Her phone rang and she edged away to answer the call. An eight hundred number. She hit ‘ignore’ and set the phone down.
“Don’t wait too long.” Wrinkles formed around Roxy’s eyes as she looked at her with an intent gaze. “There’s already been too much time wasted between you and him.”
Nervous laughter bubbled in Maisy’s chest until it worked itself out. “You’re an unlikely ally.”
“I’m your friend.” Roxy winked. “And I wouldn’t mind calling you ‘sister’ one day.”
“One step at a time.” She gave a weak smile. “Do you really think he’d forgive me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think I made the right decision?” There it was, the question she couldn’t stop asking.
“I don’t know.” Roxy looked to the side, rubbing her chin. “Honestly, I’m not sure there was a right or wrong, but what’s done is done.”
Regret spilled into Maisy’s heart, mixed with bitterness for the corner in which she’d been pushed. One thing was certain—right or wrong, there was no winner.
Chapter 5
“What do you think?” Jay set aside the drumsticks and looked around the room.
“It’s good.” Bryce sat backward, straddling a wheeled office chair. “I like it.”
“I agree, but with the new arrangement, I think I should come in on the fifth bar instead.” Dominic glanced around the room, seeking confirmation.
Adam pinched his thumb and middle finger, his index finger pointing up. “Dominic has a point. Having him start a few beats later will bring him in as the perfect build up to when Bryce cuts in.”
Bryce’s chair rolled to the edge of the room. He stood and gave it a hard push. “Let’s give it a try.”
If he’d been alone, Dominic would have given an air punch. The simple gesture of giving weight to his opinion meant the world to someone who’d been looked down upon his entire life. The equal respect his colleagues granted him gave him a new lease on his confidence. Since he’d signed the contract two weeks ago, they’d been practicing non-stop, trying to find their new groove. Not once had he been made to feel like an outsider.
Everyone took their positions again, and
they ran through the song. Bryce was silent afterward, staring into space, occasionally nodding his head. Dominic held his breath—he was confident his suggestion created a stronger song, but old habits of self-doubt died hard. At least Jay and Adam appeared to approve without any reservation.
“Good ear, Dominic.” Bryce looked at each band member. “Is everyone in agreement that we record this version?”
“Yes.”
“Yep.”
“Sounds good.”
Dominic let loose the breath held hostage by insecurity.
“Then it’s final.” Bryce glanced at the door. “I’m starving. Let’s grab something to eat before we continue on.”
“What’s on the menu?” Jay asked as they walked up the steps from Bryce’s basement studio.
“We can order a pizza or check the freezer. Fjolla cooked all day Tuesday and stocked us on frozen meals.” Bryce chuckled. “She doesn’t want Sophie to worry about anything once the baby comes, but I think there’s enough food to last a year.”
Dominic began to say either was fine, but Adam spoke first, addressing him. “You don’t know food until you’ve tried Fjolla’s cooking.”
“For real.” Nudging Dominic, Jay cast him a wink. “We’ve all been trying to convince Bryce to lend out his housekeeper, but he’s greedy.”
“Y’all are just jealous.” Laughing, Bryce turned to him. “Again, don’t listen to them. They seem to have short memories of all the meals Fjolla has sent home to them.”
“I have to say, between Fjolla and the lessons Dani records, Elle’s cooking skills have improved dramatically in the last six months.” Adam thrust out his stomach, making it appear larger. “In case you can’t tell.”
Amused, Dominic watched the interaction, then joined in. “I’ve been eating ramen noodles for so long, anything that doesn’t come wrapped in plastic sounds good.”
“Those days are over, my friend.” Jay slapped him on the back. “We like our food around here.”
“I can tell.” Several barstools were at the kitchen island and Dominic sat on one. Cold air from the open freezer reached him.
“Jackpot.” Popping up from the freezer, Bryce held out a foil dish, a wry grin on his face. “Burek.”
“Say what?” Dominic’s eyebrows shot up.
“I take it you’ve never had it?” Bryce set the tray on the counter and pushed a few buttons on the oven.
“You’re talking to a country boy from North Carolina, where we keep it simple.” His mouth watered when he thought of a large bowl of Brunswick stew. Or fried fresh-caught catfish.
“Ever had a meat pie?”
“No.”
“I forgot, that’s more of a Cajun thing.” Bryce rubbed his jaw. “The best way I can think to describe it is a European meat pie, but it’s amazing.”
“It really is.” Like a curious child, Adam lifted the tin foil cover and peeked inside. “I claim them all.”
Pushing him aside, Bryce grabbed the tray and slid it into the oven. “I promise you’ll like it. If you don’t, there’s leftover spaghetti from last night.”
Convulsions hit Dominic’s stomach at the mere mention of spaghetti. Sure, the leftovers Bryce offered had to taste better than the cheap concoctions he used to make, but other than ramen noodles, that dish had been another staple during his worst times. A one dollar box of spaghetti and a ninety-nine cent can of sauce went a long way in stretching his budget. Man, he hoped to never live that poor again.
“I’m sure the burek will be good.” He sniffed. “Smells good, even frozen.”
An hour and a half later, his stomach was full and he washed down the final bite of food with a gulp of soda. He stood, gave his full stomach room to breathe. “That was amazing.”
“Told you.” Forking another bite, Bryce grinned. “I think Fjolla gained another fan.”
“Soon she’ll have more than all of us combined.” Adam also stood and took his plate to the sink. “Tell her ‘thank you’ next time she comes.”
The music of “Come to Me Alive” rang out. Bryce snatched his phone off the counter. “I have to take this. Be right back.”
“Must be Sophie.” Jay poured another glass of sweet tea. “Bryce keeps that as his ringtone for her.”
Bryce ran back into the room, his facial muscles tight and a frantic air about him. “Sophie’s in labor. Her water broke and she’s on the way to the hospital.”
“Wow. I’ll call Caroline.” Before he finished talking, Jay already had his phone out and was dialing.
“I’ll call Elle.” Adam pulled out his phone as well.
Since he had no one to call, Dominic stood there awkwardly until Adam and Jay ended their calls. “Anything I can do?”
“Let me think.” Finger pointed, Bryce seemed to be checking off an invisible list in the air. “Why is my mind blank? Help me guys. We’ve been over the plan.”
Jay smirked. “I guess it’s a good thing you were so annoying about making sure we knew.”
“Oh no.” Adam frowned.
“Don’t ‘oh no’ me now.” Bryce ran a hand through his hair. “I need to get to the hospital.”
“The plan was for Elle to keep Gracie when Sophie went into labor, but they’re at the doctor for Shannon’s allergy testing.”
“Caroline?” Bryce looked at Jay.
“She’s out of town until tomorrow, remember?”
A loud groan matched the panicked look on Bryce’s face. “Everything’s tomorrow. That’s when Sophie’s mom is coming.” Pacing back and forth, Bryce now pulled at his hair. “Can you pick Gracie up from school, Adam? You and Elle are both listed on her emergency card.”
“Not a problem. I’ll take her back to the house and Elle should be home soon after that.” Adam laid his hands on Bryce. “Take a deep breath and calm down. I’ve been through this twice, and it’s going to be fine.”
“You’re right. Would you guys mind saying a prayer with me before I go?”
Bryce, Jay, and Adam huddled together. Reluctantly Dominic joined them, listening to Bryce pray.
“Dear Lord, please look after Sophie. Protect her as she brings our son into this world and let the delivery go smoothly, and our son born with no complications. Amen.”
Dominic backed out of the huddle, unsettled by the prayer. It was simple but heartfelt, and when Jay and Adam echoed amen, he knew they’d said their own prayers. Other than Roxy, and that was relatively new, he’d never known people who prayed and really meant what they said, but all three of his bandmates were believers and openly lived their faith.
It gave him something to think about. Each of them had things in their past that could have weighted them down, but none even hinted at feelings of inferiority, such as Dominic had struggled with his whole life. More so the last four years. Was there something to this praying and God?
“Is that good with you, Dominic?” Jay’s question interrupted his thoughts.
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head briskly one time, clearing his mind to focus on the present. “Is what good?”
Bryce stood with one hand on the front door. “Can you ride with Jay to the school and drive Sophie’s car back here?”
“Sure thing.”
“I’m out. I’ll call with updates as soon as I know anything.” The soon-to-be father was out the door, yelling over his shoulder, “Lock up for me, please.”
“Were you that frazzled with Shannon and Lilah?” Dominic nodded to the still-open door that gave a view of Bryce speeding down the driveway.
Rubbing his head, Adam shifted his gaze to the floor, chuckling softly, then looked up with a sheepish expression. “Worse.”
“Oh yeah.” Taking out his phone again, Jay glanced at the screen. “We have a few minutes. Should I tell him the story?”
“You’re going to anyway.” Adam’s eyes flashed with humor. “I’m never going to live it down.”
For the next ten minutes, Dominic listened to Jay and Adam replay the story of Elle’s labor and
birth of Shannon—from Adam accidentally locking them out of their house with the car keys inside to grabbing his duffel bag from the media blitz they’d just returned from instead of Elle’s hospital bag.
Adam reached behind him and withdrew his wallet from his rear pocket. He pulled out a picture and handed it over. “The photographer came around to take the newborn pictures, but I hadn’t run home to get the other bag yet because Shannon came so quickly. Elle was a good sport about it, though, and we still did the pictures but with a unique outfit.”
In the picture, the baby was swathed with a blankie promoting a radio station from Alabama. “Promo swag?”
“Yep. The station knew Elle was due any day and sent it home with me.” Adam shrugged. “An hour after the photographer left, I ran home to get the correct bag. We had the pictures redone the next day, but I like this one.”
Dominic gave back the photo. “It’s cute.”
“Speaking of bags.” Jay pointed to one by the door. “I think Bryce forgot something.”
A small purple suitcase, the size of a carry-on, was propped by the door.
“We can drop it off before we go to get Sophie’s car,” Dominic suggested.
“Good idea.” Jay grabbed the bag. Behind it was a smaller bag with a rainbow embroidered on the top.
“That should be Gracie’s. I’ll take it with me when I pick her up in a few minutes.” The room darkened when Adam flipped a switch. “I’ll lock up here.”
Jay jingled his keys. “Ready?”
“Yes.” He followed Jay outside, walking past a perfectly manicured lawn. Longing hit him.
This was what he wanted. It wasn’t envy, but an awareness that something was missing in his life. Now that he’d found success, maybe he should look for a girlfriend, something more than the casual dates he’d had. For once, he had something to offer. He was in a position to provide for a family, give them what they’d deserve and not a childhood like his. It’s not like he would run out tomorrow and marry the first girl he met, but he’d keep his options open.
“Getting in?”