by Ward, Susan
His clothes were simple: jeans and a leather jacket. But she could tell that they were expensive. He looked like every other biker who drifted through here; but she could tell there was something different about this one.
She stared at him. “You have to promise not to laugh.”
“I would never laugh at you, love.”
Hesitantly, she said, “My parents died when I was young. I live alone and it’s been hard. I’m broke and lonely most of the time. I work in a bar to pay my rent. A rather hopeless existence. Pete lets me sing here every Saturday. I have a fairy tale dream that someone comes, I’m discovered, and I leave here and end up famous and in love.”
Morgan Katz couldn’t stop himself, though he tried. A damsel in distress. How appropriate. A damsel who wants to be a singer. He tried to check his laughter, but he couldn’t.
Embarrassed and flustered, she exclaimed, “You promised not to laugh at me!”
His unsteady hand went gently to her cheek. His black eyes held her in a tender hold. “I’m not laughing at you, love. I’m laughing at me. Are you a good singer? Please, Sandy, will you sing for me? I’m sorry I laughed.”
Morgan took her by the hand, unplugged the jukebox, and, after making a quick explanation to the bar patrons, turned off the TV.
There was a modest assortment of instruments on the simple wooden stage, and he found a guitar. Releasing her hand, he went about plugging in the equipment and tuning the instrument. He settled on the stool, and with his expert ear carefully adjusted the pegs.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sandy said cautiously as she watched him. “I can’t afford to pay that either. You do know how to play, don’t you?”
Morgan started to laugh again. “I can pick at a bit of this and that. Hopefully you know a song in my repertoire. I’ll try to keep up with you, love. If I’m lucky, they won’t boo me. I don’t know if I could take that blow at the moment. It’s been a rough night, but it’s looking better all the time.” His eyes were like melting chocolate when he lifted them to her. “Sing for me, Sandy. You’re a very lucky girl. What songs do you know?”
“I can sing anything. What songs do you know, sir?”
“That singer in LA who just got married—Krystal Stafford. She has a song on the radio. A ballad. Do you know that song?”
She nodded, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.
“I want you to stand exactly as you are. Looking only at me and singing it to me, Sandy. Can you do that? Will you, sweet Sandy, with hair like spun sunlight and eyes of blue morning skies? Sing that for me.”
He began to play, the soft strains of the strings haunting and flawless. She stared at him in wonder. “Who are you?” she asked, even though she should have been singing.
The way he smiled made her flesh burn. “I am your dream, Sandy. I am your dream. You’d better start singing before we both wake up.”
She began to sing. She had a good voice, full bodied, perfect in pitch. It wasn’t as low, wasn’t as throaty, and certainly not as trained as Krystal’s. But it was very good. Unique. It filled him with honey like her kiss had.
Sandy was halfway through the song before he started to sing with her. HIs fingers moved with sureness and his tone was raspy and unmistakable.
The minute they were done, she feared she would faint. “I know who you are. You’re Morgan Katz, aren’t you? Krystal Stafford is the dream that you lost!”
He stood up from the stool and set the guitar away from him. He touched her cheek. “No, love. She’s not a dream I lost. She’s the dream I had to have first to be wise enough to want you.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Ward is a native of Santa Barbara, California, where she currently lives in a house on the side of a mountain, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. She doesn’t believe she makes sense anywhere except near the sea. She attended the University of California Santa Barbara and earned a degree in Business Administration from California State University Sacramento. She works as a Government Relations Consultant, focusing on issues of air quality and global warming. The mother of grown daughters, she lives a quiet life with her husband and her dog Emma. She can be found most often walking at Hendry’s Beach, where she writes most of her storylines in her head while watching Emma play in the surf. For other books or new releases by Susan Ward visit www.susanwardbooks.com
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