by Tara Randel
“No kidding.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder and tugged at it. “I can’t come up with any new songs. You might not know this, but my last album was a bomb.”
He’d heard.
“I have writer’s block. No matter what I do, I can’t come up with anything new. No sparks. No inspiration. Nothing.”
So here it was. The real reason behind her altruism.
In the music industry, Luke knew how devastating writer’s block could be. He’d never experienced it, but had friends who’d agonized because of it, usually after a big blow, like a bad album. He could sympathize, even though he didn’t live in that world any longer, but he found his back up at her request. He could agree to most anything but songwriting.
“So you want, what, help? Suggestions?”
“At this point all I know is that my career will definitely suffer if I can’t snap out of this—” she wiggled her hand in the air “—whatever it is.”
The music business could be fickle at times. One day you were a star, another a has-been.
“I’m hoping being around you and the Klub might kick-start my muse.” She lowered her eyes for a moment, then met his gaze, a captivating grin making his chest squeeze. “No pressure or anything.”
Cassie’s look got to him. He didn’t want to be the guy she pinned her hopes on and who let her down. Or have her get involved only to have her muse show up and then she’d leave him in the lurch. His focus was on troubled kids, not a pretty songwriter who’d lost her way. He glanced at her again. Those green eyes always managed to trip him up. She bit her lower lip again, anticipating his answer.
“If I said I can’t make any promises will you still do the concert?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He knew he was digging a hole for himself, but if this wasn’t a publicity stunt and truly a chance to aid his kids, then he might be willing to give her pointers. Still, he’d closely watch her actions after the concert. One sign that she was playing him and he’d sever ties between them. “Then what do you say we plan this concert and go from there?”
At her relived burst of breath, he cringed and forcefully told himself he was agreeing in order to keep the Klub going.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHAT HAD SHE been thinking? How had she expected to pull off a full-blown concert in two weeks’ time? Therein lay the problem. She hadn’t been. Her only thoughts had been to impress Luke.
How’s that going?
Cassie paced the stage, clasping her sweaty palms together as the tech team buzzed with activity around her. A late afternoon coastal breeze picked up, swirling the ankle-length sheer skirt around her high-heeled boots, carrying with it the scent of salt water sweetened by the newly blooming orange blossoms. Her entire outfit, a black mesh with gold embellishments around the waist and hem, fit over a black tank minidress. She’d even dyed the pink streak in her hair black to match.
“Watch out for the loose cords,” one of the tech guys commanded as he hurried over with tape to secure the cable snaking out from beneath the keyboard she’d be playing tonight. The sustain pedal kept sticking, giving her problems all during sound check. The team investigated and fixed the issue, a relief after a messy preconcert hour onstage coming right on the heels of a strained two-week practice. Just remembering made her want to jump in her rental car and drive away.
As promised, Sandy Palms filled in as her backup band. From the get-go things were tense. At first the guys were thrilled to work with her. Sonny and Brian were friendly, Ryan, not so much.
“Have I done something wrong?” she’d wondered out loud.
“Nope,” Sonny had slapped her on the back. “He’s always like that.”
As they practiced, nerves got the better of all of them, which made Cassie mess up her own melodies, adding to her already strained confidence. And Luke? He’d been a rock.
“Hey, guys, watch the tempo on the first song. It’s a beat slower than you’re playing. This is a particularly difficult transition. Once you nail it, you’ll be fine. Just have fun with it.”
His encouragement had bonded the practices together. But now?
Okay, she’d cornered Luke with this concert idea. So far her plan wasn’t going as...planned. She could only hope the turnout for the concert was a success so Luke wouldn’t see it as a huge bust.
“Miss Branford?” one of the organizers approached her. “Mandy Rose from the Cypress Pointe Weekly wants to know if you have a few minutes.”
“Please ask her to drop by Kids’ Klub tomorrow morning.” Cassie had planned a breakfast blowout to thank all the concert volunteers. “I can give her a few minutes then.”
“And your father wants to speak to you.”
Just what she didn’t need. She’d rather have a root canal. “Not now.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll let him know.”
“Thanks.”
“Here’s your mic.” Another member of the team walked to her holding up her personalized, bedazzled microphone. As a dare from her sister, she’d used pink crystals to jazz up the piece of equipment. After positive comments from fans, she kept it as part of her trademark style.
Luke chose that moment to walk by, eyeing the mic. Today, he’d chosen a well-worn pair of jeans, a pale blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and boots to complete his very casual, very male concert look. His hair, artfully messy, appeared lighter blond in the late afternoon sunshine. His smile, when he chose to share it, hitched her heart rate up a notch.
“A bit much, don’t you think?”
Right now, she was inclined to agree. “Part of my look.”
He stopped, gave her a nerve-racking once-over. “You look nice.”
Wow. A compliment. From the man who mostly kept his opinions to himself, except when it came to Kids’ Klub.
“It’s not too much?”
“For tonight, I’d say you nailed it.” He scooped up the phone he’d placed on top of a nearby monitor. A blast of loud music startled her, blaring for a few seconds as the sound guys tested volume levels.
“I spoke to them about the crackling coming from your monitor,” she said, struggling for conversation. “They’re working on it.”
He nodded.
“Are the guys ready?”
“As ready as they’ll ever be.”
“Still tense?”
“They aren’t used to playing before big crowds.”
At least he was hoping for good attendance.
“We’ve practiced the songs enough. They should be okay with the lineup,” she said, mostly to reassure herself.
“They can play, that’s not the issue.”
“Issue?” Her stomach plummeted.
He slipped his phone into his back pocket. “Ryan is used to playing the main keyboard so putting him on standby has thrown off his timing.”
She was afraid switching the usual setup might not be a good move, but what choice did she have? She always started out playing the piano and moved back and forth between it and her guitar.
“I’m sorry to mess things up, Luke. But since I’m the headliner, I have to give the fans what they expect.”
His gaze pierced hers and she felt herself cringe. Had she come off as pompous as she sounded?
“I get it. Ryan is set in his ways.”
Evidenced by his less than warm and fuzzy welcome to Cassie.
“And the others?”
“Brian is his usual cool self and Sonny is hitting on the makeup artist, so we’re good.”
A relieved grin curved her lips.
“Once we get playing, the guys will be fine,” he told her.
She had no doubt. Brian was seriously talented, but too laid-back to care. Sonny, so sure the right woman was out there waiting for him, was
just plain optimistic all the time. Ryan, probably the least talented, although he could play the keyboard with technical precision, wore a perpetual scowl. Cassie wondered how his wife put up with him.
And Luke? Cassie got the impression he held back. Never truly sharing the real man behind the shadows in his eyes. She spent too much time wondering who’d put them there and why.
Blowing out a breath, she asked, “And you?”
His gaze softened a tick. “The set will go fine, Cassie. You’ve done this before.”
Yes, but never with Luke playing nearby.
Even with her nerves stretched so taut she thought she’d snap like a broken guitar string, his calm voice eased her concerns. Every time he said her name in that smooth-as-butter voice, she fought the tendrils of delight curling through her.
Focus. You’re here for the kids, not their handsome program director.
“I know things were a bit rough during practice,” he went on to say, “but it’ll all shake out in the end.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“Always does.”
Okay, she’d take his word for it.
Glancing out over the park, she watched as streams of people started to fill in the audience area, carrying blankets, folding chairs and coolers. It was a beautiful spring night to enjoy for a good cause. Luke had secured a special permit allowing them to use the public park for the concert, enlisting his cousin Dane to build a temporary stage, which ran parallel to the beach and the green-blue gulf waters beyond. The venue would be casual and inviting.
The last time Cassie had toured, she’d been booked in large venues, so at odds with her love for intimate settings. Tonight’s concert would fall somewhere in the middle.
Another tech hustled by. “Thirty minutes and counting.”
Right. She needed to be alone to center her thoughts. “I’m going backstage,” she told Luke, whose gaze also overlooked the park.
He turned back, lines forming between his brows. “Nerves?”
“I need a few minutes,” she replied, warmed by his concern.
“Gotcha.”
She’d just turned to walk away, fighting her silly disappointment that Luke hadn’t been more chatty, when Denny, the teen she’d met at Kids’ Klub, rushed across the stage, followed by a girl his age.
“Hey, Mr. H. We sold all the tickets for tonight.”
Luke clapped Denny on the shoulder. “You’re sure?”
“Yep. Miss Branford,” he said and gestured at Cassie, “er, your sister, not you. Anyway, she’s been keeping track of sales and donations. So far we’re right on the mark.”
Sounded like her sister. Lauren was in her element projecting the outcome of sales.
Luke looked over Denny’s shoulder to meet Cassie’s gaze. “Seems your idea worked out.”
Her tummy quivered. “I’m glad.” Which she was, but she wasn’t patting anyone on the back until after the concert.
“Even with the short time span to publicize the concert, so far so good.” Denny’s grin lit up his face. “Thanks, Miss Branford.”
“Please, call me Cassie.”
“Really?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Cool.”
“Who’s your friend?” Cassie couldn’t help notice his besotted smile as he introduced the girl dressed in head-to-toe black.
“This is Erin.”
“Nice outfit, Erin,” she said as she stuck out her hand in greeting.
“Thanks. I saw you wearing something like this when you were on the MTV awards show.” The young girl’s teeth tugged at her lower lip. “Sorta stole your style.”
“I don’t mind at all. You look great.”
With her nearly white blond hair and porcelain complexion, Erin was in the early stages of stunning. Contrast the dark clothing and Cassie understood Denny’s reaction. The teen was clearly smitten with the goth girl.
“You did a great job rallying the troops.” Luke told Denny, rewarding the teen with a lopsided grin. A grin usually reserved for when he was around the kids. How sad was it that she could use one of those assuring smiles from him right now?
“It was easy. All the kids were excited to help out. Especially since they got free admission. And they got to meet Cassie Branford.” Denny’s smile couldn’t get any bigger. “I got ’em on hot dog duty now.”
Luke glanced at Cassie. “Denny came up with the idea to sell food for extra income, so I put him in charge. He’s nothing if not industrious.”
As were most of the kids Cassie had met before today. The young people were respectful of her time, some shy upon meeting her, others full of questions. It had been a while since she’d looked forward to working in an area other than her music. So far her muse was MIA and she still hadn’t written a song, but interacting with the kids gave her an excited outlook she hadn’t realized she’d been missing since starting in the business.
“Well, if Mr. Hastings agrees, I’ll be hanging around the Klub more often.”
“Really, Mr. H.?”
“Yes. Cassie wants to volunteer. Give music lessons.”
Erin’s face lit up. “You promise?”
“I do. But right now, I need to prepare before we go on. Excuse me.”
Cassie gingerly stepped over the cords and between the instruments and monitors. She marched down the steps and strode to the tent set up for the band. As she entered the empty space, her stress level lowered.
She grabbed a water bottle from the large ice-filled tub. The cool liquid soothed her throat as drops from the wet container splashed down on her dress. She brushed the moisture away, taking another swallow before placing the bottle on the makeup table.
Pacing now, she cleared her mind. The ritual eased her nerves. Jitters plagued her whenever she performed, right up until she released the first note of the first song and her passion kicked in. Nerves are good, her manager always told her. Keeps you humble.
Did Luke see her as a humble musician? Or a career-driven poser? She wasn’t sure, but in the time she had left in Cypress Pointe, she was determined to leave him with a positive impression. Why his opinion meant so much to her she didn’t fully ponder, just let it simmer below the surface. Funny, she tried not to care what most people thought, but Luke had joined the ranks of those she wanted to please.
She shook off the image of Luke. Continuing to pace, she included vocal exercises. She hummed the scale, her tone clear in the process. Long ago she’d learned to start out by humming so not to strain the vocal cords. Then she added the words of a song, again moving up and down the scale before taking another drink of water.
Minutes passed and she started to softly sing a random melody, eyes closed, final prep for the performance. She let go, her mind free, shaking her arms in the process, working out the kinks. Tonight had to be a success. She needed to show Luke that she was more than willing to work in exchange for his agreement to help her unlock the writer’s block. That her motives were not one-sided.
She took another pass across the room when the tent flap flipped open.
“Cassandra. I’ve been looking for you.”
She held back a groan as her father walked in.
“I’m busy right now, Dad.”
He glanced around the empty tent. “There’s nothing going on here.”
“I’m preparing.”
“It can wait,” he said, impeding on her space. “I have a request.”
She took a deep breath to control her annoyance.
“I want to play with you tonight,” he rushed on to say without waiting for her go-ahead. “It will be a good move for your career.”
Incredulous, she stopped short, speechless.
Her father took it as a sign to continue. “Cypress Pointe is small so we need all the star power we can get.”
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Suddenly the tent shrank in proportion to her soaring temper. “We? There is no we.”
“Of course there is. We’re family.”
“Even so, why would you wait minutes before I go onstage and ask to play? We’ve been practicing for two weeks.” Unbelievable. “And aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon? Where’s Angelica?”
“We cut our trip short when I heard about the concert.”
“If I’d wanted you to participate, I would have asked.” She shot him a glare. “How did you find out, anyway?”
“Lauren.”
She should have realized.
Her father, still oblivious to her mood, went on. “You have that wedding band accompanying you. Why not me?”
“Because I want to play with them.”
“I don’t understand.”
The sad thing was, he really didn’t. He expected Cassie to knuckle under his pressure. A pressure that kept building since she’d allowed him a small opening into her life.
Keep at it, sweetheart. One day you’ll get better.
“We go on in ten. Please leave.”
“Cassie, reconsider.”
“No.” Her voice rose and she was afraid she might lose it. “Please leave now.”
To her relief, just as she was about to come unglued, another voice joined the fray. “Trouble here?”
* * *
LUKE WATCHED CASSIE’S face change from perturbed to thankful in an instant.
He hadn’t meant to interfere, but when raised voices inside the tent alerted him, he didn’t stop and think. He acted. By her grateful expression, he was glad he did.
“My father was just leaving,” she said in a steady tone.
Robert opened his mouth, then thought better of it. He passed Luke as he left, anger radiating from him.
“Another happy family reunion?”
Cassie ran a shaky hand over her hair. “Afraid not.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude, but the guys are meeting here in a few minutes. I heard loud voices and came in to investigate.”
“Which I appreciate. My father has the worst timing.”
“Mine probably wasn’t any better.”