Indigo lets out a small gasp, but Adam says, "No, if it wasn't for Indigo, I might not be sitting here with you today. She helped me grow."
"And if it wasn't for Adam, I might not have realized the things that are really important to me. Honesty, respect, communication," Indigo gushes. "I should've communicated better with him from the very beginning."
Sabian pauses and strokes his clean-shaven face. "But you must cringe every time you hear that song."
She swallows hard. "At first I stayed away from the radio, avoided Adam, and pretty much didn't want anything to do with the band. But the song's slowly growing on me."
Sabian laughs. "Like a fungus?"
"No, I wouldn't say that." Indigo twists the beaded bracelet on her arm round and round.
"You'll forever be recognized for that song," Sabian says.
She looks straight at him. "It's not so bad being Indigo Blues."
Sabian sighs, but quickly straightens his posture. "Don't you think you should ask Adam to forgive you for breaking his heart?"
"She doesn't have to," Adam interjects.
Indigo grabs Adam's hand. "No, Sabian's right." She stares into the camera. "I am Indigo Jackson and I'm sorry for breaking Adam Spade's heart."
"Really, you didn't have to say that," Adam whispers.
"I know." She smiles.
I'd like to thank the following people: Rosemary Stimola for being a superstar agent; my wonderful editor Brian Farrey for helping Indigo and Adam come alive; and the rest of the Flux team for all their expertise. My husband, Delle, for being the best groupie a girl can have; my parents and siblings for their continued love and support; Dan Batchelor, for sharing his knowledge of music and New York living; and Molly O'Neill, for asking to hear Adam's voice.
Thanks to my writing pals-Adrienne Sylver for reading anything I send her; Christina Gonzalez for her wordcount check-ins; and Gaby Triana, Linda Bernfeld, Marjetta Geerling, Joyce Sweeney, and the Wednesday night critique group for their comments; to online writing pals and bloggers for being a part of my community; and to the Starbucks baristas on Old Cutler, for allowing me to write comfortably from their store.
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