Cutting Loose

by Charity Hillis

  Amy nodded. “I need a change,” she said, repeating her earlier mantra to him, and Carl smiled.

  “We can do that. How much of a change?”

  She met his friendly gaze in the mirror. “Well,” she began, “I just quit my job today.”

  Carl whistled. “Okay, so we’re talking big change. Got it. Anything in mind?”

  Amy paused, considering her reflection, but then she shook her head. “Surprise me.”

  The stylist’s grin stretched even wider. “Oh, honey, I love when people say that!”

  ***

  Six hours, three colors, and two shampoos later, Amy gave Carl a huge tip, paid her even larger bill with a grin, and strode out into the city. It’s amazing the difference a haircut makes, she thought as she headed to her car. Well, that and suddenly being unemployed.

  Checking her reflection in the tinted windows of her BMW, Amy smiled at herself. Her hair brushed her jawline now, instead of her shoulder blades, and Carl had expertly cut in layers framing her face. Her favorite part, however, were the flashes of color: deep purple streaks faded gradually to pink at the tips and peeked out from the bottom layer of her hair, and the color reminded Amy of a brilliant sunset. I could never get away with a look like this at the office, she thought, driving back across the city with an exuberant smile.

  She’d heard about people who lost their jobs and went into shock, not really processing the dramatic change in their circumstances for days, maybe even months, but something told her she wasn’t going to be like that. The shock had hit as soon as she’d told her boss to fuck off, and she was surprised at how much lighter she felt.

  Now that I’ve got all this time on my hands, maybe I should check out Sean’s gig tonight. The thought made her pulse jump with anticipation, but something heavy settled in her stomach at the same time. Amy couldn’t identify the feeling, though, so she pushed it to one side when she got back to her apartment and concentrated on getting ready.

  It took longer than it should have; every stitch of clothing in her apartment screamed “investment banker”, and there was nothing that she thought would look remotely right for a casual night out on the town. Finally, she settled on the gray skirt from her favorite suit and an old pink tank top she sometimes wore to the gym. Once she’d slipped the pendant she’d made around her neck and put on her leather jacket and black high-heeled boots, Amy thought she almost looked hip. At least I don’t look like I belong in a board room anymore, she thought, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear as she checked out her reflection. The hair was going to take some getting used to; it had been years since Amy wore it down regularly, but she couldn’t deny it looked better that way.

  Grabbing a clutch and tossing her keys and phone in it, Amy headed across Manhattan to The Haven.

  ***

  Far from being a dive like she’d expected, The Haven was actually a pretty upscale club. Amy paid the cover charge without complaint and slipped into a seat at the bar. She could see the empty stage easily from her perch, the microphone stand waiting patiently, and Amy felt a thrill of anticipation course through her.

  “Excuse me.” A male voice interrupted her thoughts, and Amy swung her eyes to the guy standing beside her, taking in his faded T-shirt and torn jeans in a glance. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Amy couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. “Does anybody still say that?”

  The guy grinned. “All evidence points to yes.”

  She shook her head, but she was still smiling. “No, thanks,” she said. “I’m just here for the music.”

  The guy didn’t push it, but he’d reminded Amy of one of the bar-hopping rules from her college days: always buy a drink yourself if you wanted to avoid cheesy pickup lines. She ordered a strawberry margarita, even though it had been years since she’d had something so pink, and no one tried to hit on her again once the drink was in front of her. I guess I’m just in a pink mood all of a sudden, she thought with a giggle, glancing around the bar. The man’s attention had been flattering, but he wasn’t the one Amy wanted to notice her that night.

  She nursed her drink until Sean finally came on stage, and then she focused all her energy on him. He was just as gorgeous as she’d remembered; those tight jeans, the half-smile that appeared on his face when he really got into the music, and those long fingers of his confidently stroking the guitar for song after song. With a shiver, Amy recalled the feeling of those fingers against her skin, and she felt her cheeks heating up as she stared at Sean.

  There were a couple of younger women crowded around the stage when the set finally finished, and Amy hung back, wondering if Sean might not be happy to see her. But he spotted her across the crowd and gave her a broad smile. Amy fought the urge to fiddle with her hair as Sean made his way to her side.

  “New look,” he said, scanning her from head to toe before meeting her eyes. “I like it.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” she said, the words sounding sharper than she’d intended. Amy exhaled. “Sorry. I mean, thank you.”

  He reached for her hand, but then he paused. “You seem a bit off tonight.”

  She shrugged, thinking about everything that had happened in the past forty-eight hours. “It’s been a big week, I guess.” What would he say if I told him about my job?

  Sean grinned. “For me, too. Guess what I did before the show?”

  Amy couldn’t even begin to imagine, and finally she turned her palms up. “No clue. What?”

  “Signed a contract to play here every weekend.”

  Her heart started to race as the words sank in. “So…you’ll be coming back?”

  Sean nodded, taking a step closer to her. “You might even say I’ll be a regular,” he said softly, looking for all the world like he was about to kiss her.

  To her surprise, Amy stopped him. Deliberately, she put her hand against his chest, applying gentle pressure. “I don’t think I want to be a once-in-awhile kind of girl.”

  He studied her face. “You don’t?”

  She shook her head as she realized what had been holding her back since running into Sean the other day in the elevator. “No. What we had at the wedding—” she hesitated. “Well, what we almost had…it looked like it was going to be a really good thing.”

  “There’s no reason we still can’t have that,” he murmured sultrily.

  Sean’s crooked smile nearly made her change her mind, but she kept talking. “The thing is,” she said, forcing herself to look into his gorgeous eyes, “a lot has happened for me since then.”

  His smile slipped, and he leaned back. “There’s somebody else?”

  Amy shook her head. “No, and I don’t want there to be.” Steeling her courage, she admitted, “I think I’m ready for something real, not just a fling.”

  Sean frowned. “I’m no good at real,” he finally said.

  Amy shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. That’s what I want.”

  “And if I can’t promise anything?”

  She sighed. “Then I guess that’s it.”

  He was silent for a moment, looking around the crowded club, his expression blank. I’d kill to know what he’s thinking, Amy thought, studying his features.

  When he finally spoke, his words surprised her. “You might still come to the gigs, right? It’d be nice to have a friendly face in the crowd.”

  Amy tipped her head toward the stage, where two of the girls who’d been flirting with him before were lingering, watching them. “I don’t think you’ll miss me,” she finally said, trying to ignore the heaviness that wrapped around her heart as she realized that, whether he thought about her or not, she was going to miss him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sean started paying Eric a chunk of his earnings every weekend for the privilege of crashing on his couch, but he didn’t see Amy again. He told himself to let it go, to stop obsessing about the fling that never was, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed her in his life.

  Duri
ng the week, he stayed in Vermont, helping Roxy out occasionally and hanging with his buddies, but as time went by, he realized his heart was in New York. He’d stopped playing at The Desert as soon as he got the contract at Haven, but he’d kept his job delivering subs in an effort to save up enough for a down payment on his own place in the city. He was getting sick of rooming with Eric, and even though Amy had made it perfectly clear that she was done with him the last time he saw her, he couldn’t help but wonder if they might have a second chance. But no way I’m bringing here back to this dump, he thought one Sunday morning as he tossed his clothes into his backpack and got ready to head back to Vermont. Sean snorted derisively. Real classy; want to come over and make out on my roommate’s couch?

  It was probably a waste of brain cells to keep thinking about Amy, but he couldn’t help himself, and soon he started tinkering with a new song. After that first night at The Haven, he’d been writing music on the sly, and it seemed like he was never short on inspiration. Sean wasn’t sure when—or if—he’d be ready to play any of his songs for an audience, but that didn’t seem to stop the lyrics from pouring out of him.

  But the song about Amy was different. He labored over it, choosing every word, every chord with care. When it was finally done, Sean knew it was the best thing he’d ever written, but he couldn’t get excited. What good does it do if I never have the chance to play it for her?

  Even though it was totally not his style to ask for help, Sean had finally broke down and asked Sharlene for advice. Haltingly, he’d admitted that he was hung up on Amy.

  She hadn’t laughed at him. “Sean, I know you’re a good guy, but I don’t know what to tell you.” She paused, and Sean could tell she was choosing her words carefully. “We’re close, but she doesn’t tell me a lot about her personal life.”

  “You think there’s someone else?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know she’s been really happy lately.”

  Sean’s spirits fell, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “Find out, would you?”

  “Since when do you need help getting the girl?” Sharlene raised an eyebrow.

  “Since now.”

  Sharlene studied his face. “I think you really mean it,” she said slowly. “This isn’t just your flavor of the month?”

  Sean shook his head. “I almost can’t believe it myself, but I can’t stop thinking about her.”

  Sharlene gave him a slow smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Sean tried not to get his hopes up, but Sharlene’s promise echoed in his ears, and he found himself writing even more songs with renewed vigor as he dreamed about a certain blond more and more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Summer turned to fall, and Amy still didn’t regret most of what had happened. Sure, she was getting ready to look for a cheaper apartment, since she couldn’t afford to stay where she was much longer without dipping into her savings, but she felt optimistic about a few of the places she’d seen, and besides, she loved what she was doing now so much more than she’d ever loved her work on Wall Street. She may not have been making money yet, but she was finally, finally, making art again.

  As soon as she’d told Sharlene about quitting, Amy had actually let her friend talk her into loading up her car and bringing some jewelry up to Vermont for a craft sale in September. She’d spent a few months in a flurry, making new pieces and brainstorming matching accessories for the ones she’d already made, and by the time the sale rolled around, Amy had more jewelry than she knew what to do with. If nobody buys any this weekend, at least I’ll have a bunch ready to list online, she thought as she drove north.

  Despite her earlier embarrassment, she’d decided to stay at the Pine Tree Inn again, and she gave Roxy a friendly smile as she checked in.

  “It’s good to see you again!” The woman grinned at her. “No hard feelings about last time, I hope?”

  Amy shook her head. “It’s all in the past,” she said, even though she still felt a twinge in her chest whenever she thought of Sean and what they’d almost had.

  Roxy handed her a key with a wide smile. “Glad to hear you say that. I was worried when you lit out of here so fast.”

  Shrugging, Amy reached for the key. “I was a bit wound up this spring. I’m working on unwinding now though,” she said, pointing to a chunk of her pink hair with a smile.

  “It looks good like that.” Roxy studied her face. “And I think you’re happier than you were the last time I saw you.”

  Amy grinned. “Definitely.” Shifting gears, she glanced around the lobby. “Sharlene didn’t tell me where the craft fair will be.”

  Roxy’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Where else? My barn, of course.”

  “Of course!” Amy laughed, and she was still chuckling when she made it up to her room with her suitcase. Roxy hadn’t put her in the same one as before, and Amy inspected the new room. Two windows looked down on the lake behind the inn, but the beautiful view was a little spoiled when she thought about walking beside the water with Sean. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It’s not even likely he’ll be around for this, she told herself firmly. He’s probably off somewhere on a gig. She hadn’t wanted to ask Sharlene and risk another setup, but in her heart, Amy secretly hoped that Sean would make an appearance at the craft sale.

  He didn’t, but by the end of the day on Saturday, Amy was too happy and exhausted to really mind. Much to her surprise, she’d sold out of the earrings she brought, and most of the pendants were gone, as well. Sharlene came by her booth to help her pack up, but Amy just laughed and spread her hand at the meager selection she had left.

  “This won’t take me very long at all,” she said, grinning at her friend. “I still can’t believe people wanted my stuff.”

  Sharlene shook her head. “When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that you’ve got real talent?”

  Amy shrugged, but she didn’t deflect the compliment the way she used to. “Thank you. And thank you for badgering me into doing this; I didn’t realize how much fun I’d have.”

  Her friend reached forward and gave her a quick hug. “I’m glad. But I’ll admit, my motives were selfish; I wanted to get you back up here so we could have a girls’ night.”

  Although Amy really just wanted to spend time with Sharlene, she didn’t want to offend her by asking if the other women would be there. “I’d like that. You’re sure Jeremiah won’t mind?”

  “Are you kidding?” Sharlene looped her arm through Amy’s. “He knows I’ve been waiting for a chance to see you.”

  Amy grinned. “Did you want to go to The Desert again?”

  Sharlene smiled. “Where else?”

  Amy wasn’t surprised when she got to the bar and found Carol, Joanne, and Roxy clustered around a table in the corner, but she was surprised to realize she didn’t actually mind. She smiled and headed over, hoping nobody brought up the whole stupid bet thing.

  Joanne slid out a chair for her. “It’s good to see you again!”

  “You, too,” Amy said, glancing around at the group. “Where’s Sharlene?”

  “She said she had something to pick up, but she’d be along shortly.” Roxy grinned at her.

  Amy nodded, and her eyes slid toward the stage. “Is,” she cleared her throat, “is there music tonight?”

  Carol started to say something, but Joanne shot her a look that Amy couldn’t decipher. “Not on the schedule,” Roxy said smoothly.

  Amy eyed them all nervously. That was strange. Still, even though she was friendly with them, she didn’t feel like she knew any of the women well enough to press for details, so she made small talk, keeping one eye on the door for Sharlene while occasionally checking the stage in case Sean appeared.

  Finally, Sharlene breezed through the doors, carrying a big white bakery box. She smiled and headed straight for the table, setting the box down with a flourish. “I brought treats,” she said, still grinning. “Figured no one would object to something sw
eet.”

  Carol reached for the box, but Sharlene swatted her hand away. “Let’s grab our drinks first. This round’s on me.”

  Before Amy or anyone else could protest, she’d headed up to the bar, and in no time, she was back, carrying a tray loaded with cheap plastic champagne flutes.

  Roxy whistled. “What are we celebrating?”

  Sharlene smiled and lifted her glass. “The fact that I won’t be drinking anything harder than apple juice for a long time.”

  The women stared at her for a moment, but realization seemed to dawn on them simultaneously. “Oh, my God,” Carol cried, jumping out of her chair to hug Sharlene. “You’re serious?”

  Sharlene beamed. “Ten weeks, and going strong.”

  Roxy threw open the bakery box and laughed. “Pink and blue cupcakes.” She raised an eyebrow at Sharlene. “Do you have any guess?”

  Sharlene’s hand strayed to her still-flat stomach. “Healthy,” she said firmly. “That’s all I want.”

  Tears welled up in Amy’s eyes, and she stood up to embrace her friend. “I’m so, so happy for you,” she whispered.

  Sharlene squeezed her. “Me, too.” When she pulled back, her eyes were glistening. Amy sniffled, about to lose control of her emotions, but Sharlene shook her head. “Drink up,” she said to the table, “and you damn well better enjoy that champagne for me!”

  Carol giggled, and the women clinked glasses. Amy looked around at their smiling faces, and warmth settled into her chest. It’s been too long since I had friends, she thought, sipping the champagne and grabbing a pink cupcake. How did I not remember what I was missing?

  They’d nearly polished off the cupcakes when the sound of a guitar filled the bar, and Amy spun around in time to see Sean take the stage. She glanced at Roxy and raised her eyebrow.

  “I thought he wasn’t playing tonight.”

  Roxy just grinned at her and shrugged. “I’m not his manager!”

  Amy glanced around the table, and the other women were all watching her with looks of anticipation. “What?” She finally asked, forcing herself not to look over her shoulder at Sean again.