by Tara Randel
She sat back, stunned by her revelation. Certainly it explained the distance between them. So why did he want into her life now?
Tentatively, she picked up a pen. Began adding more sentences as they formed in her mind.
What seemed to matter then,
can only come to an end,
There’s more to me than fame,
a child with a name.
If you asked me where I am,
you might not like the answer,
I have a life to live,
with only me as the master.
Rough, but the beginning of an idea. One she wouldn’t let escape.
She wasn’t sure how long she worked on the verses or tweaked the chorus. Once finished, she settled her guitar on her lap. Plunked out a melody line, very similar to the one she’d come up with during class. Pleased, she picked up her phone, scrolling to the recorder app. She hit record and played through the line in its entirety. Once she’d saved the recording, she played again, this time adding in the lyrics.
Tears leaked from her eyes as a sense of relief and gratefulness surged through her. The satisfaction that always came with completing a concept was like welcoming home an old friend. One she’d missed more than she’d ever imagined.
But she couldn’t get too excited. Not until she knew she could take more ideas and turn them into songs. Maybe, just maybe, she’d have a positive update for Travis before long.
Rising, she went to put her guitar away and noticed Luke leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over a beige button-down shirt, legs covered in dark blue jeans. His hair, more tousled than usual, fell over his forehead. A small smile lingered on his face.
Discovering he’d been eavesdropping, the butterflies took up flight in her belly again.
“You heard?”
* * *
HE’D HEARD, ALL RIGHT. The raw emotion grabbed him, right down to his toes.
She looked beautiful, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she acknowledged his presence. The way her hair, with the new orange streak, shone in the overhead lights. Even from across the room he got a faint whiff of her berry-scented fragrance. She gripped her guitar for dear life, all because she wanted his opinion.
No pressure there.
“Pretty good for someone fighting a block.”
“Was it awful?”
“Not even close.”
“It’s just the start. I need to make some adjustments.” Her green eyes turned bright, but her expression remained timid. “Care to join me and give me your opinion?”
He froze. He’d known she’d eventually ask this question, but still, no matter how many times he’d played this scenario out in his head, he wasn’t ready.
“We both know you have experience collaborating with another lyricist.”
“Probably not the best reminder if you want me to take this seriously.”
She shrugged. “You had to know the past would come up if we ever got to this point.”
“I’d hoped it wouldn’t.”
Patting the seat beside her, she said, “Let’s give it a try.”
“I need to get my guitar.”
He strode back to this office, convincing himself collaborating with Cassie would be easier if he just looked at it like ripping off a bandage. Quickly, painfully, and done with. Maybe then he’d settle in and work. Because he knew a good sound when he heard it, and Cassie’s work in progress qualified, with a few edits here and there.
When he returned, Cassie still studied her notebook, biting the end of her pen. She glanced over at him when he sat down beside her. “I’ll play the melody through. Stop me if you think of anything.”
She played and sang, the textures in her voice taking his breath away. When unencumbered, her gift soared. He knew in his soul she would conquer her fears and once again bless the world with her special brand of music.
“Who are you thinking of when you sing?” he asked after she’d completed the song.
She colored. “My father.”
“Why?”
“I have a lot of deep-seated anger.”
He nodded, pulled her notebook closer. Held out his hand for the pen she’d slipped over her ear. “May I?”
She handed him the pen. He jotted down a few ideas.
“Oh, that works.”
They incorporated the new parts seamlessly and before he knew it, he was harmonizing with her. Adding new chord variations. She caught on quickly and transitioned right along with him.
“Once more.” This time she tapped her phone and he knew she was recording them. His fingers froze on the strings.
She didn’t notice until she started strumming without him. “What’s wrong?”
“I swore I’d never do this again.”
Cassie turned off the recorder. “Because of your ex-wife?”
“You know what happened?”
“Not really. Rumors mostly.”
He hesitated, but it only lasted a few seconds. “Tracy cheated on me. With the label executive we worked with. Stu Andrews was my friend, or so I thought, anyway. Seems I was only a stepping stone for Tracy. Andrews gave her what she really wanted.”
“Which was?”
“A more prominent place in the industry. He was a shark of a lawyer who skillfully got her what she coveted, which turned out to be the royalties to our last collaboration.”
She cringed. “I heard about that.”
“Not my smartest move.”
“I imagine emotions were running high. No one thinks well under those circumstances.”
He sent her a questioning glance.
“I still remember my parents’ divorce. Not pretty.”
“Neither was mine. She used me. Dragged our personal life through the tabloids. I’ve never forgiven her for that.”
Cassie’s face fell. “So in the end, you’ll always question people’s motives, won’t you? Just like me offering the benefit concert.”
Would he? Life hadn’t exactly panned out any other way. “My folks were always out for what they could get,” he explained. Or was it an excuse? “At the expense of my brother and me. Mark turned out just like them. I guess it’s burned into my DNA to be cautious.”
“Not everyone has ulterior motives.”
“Tracy did. After all was said and done, I retreated here.”
“Which, honestly, was probably a good move. You started the Klub.”
True. He’d never thought of it like that. When he’d come to Cypress Pointe all he’d wanted was to be left alone to lick his wounds. But the idea for the Klub had flickered to life once he started teaching and never let go.
“While I’m glad I got this place up and running, I’ve left the music industry for good.”
She scooted a bit closer. Opened her mouth, then thought better of it.
“What?” he urged, honestly curious to hear what she had to say.
Tucking a loose strand of hair from her braid behind her ear, she started. “I think I know what caused my block. Fear. Not wanting to disappoint all the people who depend on me. But you? Finding out what your wife had done, with a friend? Luke, that’s a devastating situation to go through. Major. I might be afraid to tank again, but to lose my family and career? All in one swoop? I truly see why you don’t want to take a chance.”
He frowned. “I don’t have writer’s block.”
“You don’t? C’mon, you’re more emotionally messed up than me.”
He’d have laughed at her simple statement if it weren’t so true.
“Are you saying you still get ideas?” Cassie prompted.
“All the time.”
Surprise turned her eyes a deeper shade of green. “What do you do with them?”
“Nothing.”
A scowl marred her forehead. “That’s almost worse than retreating from the world.”
He silently disagreed.
“Thank you,” she said after a few contemplative moments.
“For what?”
“Sharing your story. Explaining why you don’t write any longer. It had to be difficult confiding in me.”
Actually, it felt good getting it off his chest. Some of the chronic tightness shifted. He could almost breathe freely. “You’re a good listener.”
She shrugged. “All in the day of a song workshop leader, teen motivator, Kids’ Klub volunteer.”
“Busy girl.”
She grinned before sobering just as quickly. “You know, something just occurred to me.”
“What’s that?”
“Your wife. I haven’t heard of any songs she’s written in the past two years.” She picked up her phone and tapped the screen.
Could Cassie’s statement be true? He hadn’t been paying attention to Tracy’s career, too busy putting her out of his mind and getting the Klub off the ground. Trying to figure out how to purchase this property, along with school and band commitments, kept his mind focused on Cypress Pointe, not the music world in LA.
“Nope. I checked. Nothing recent.”
Huh. Had her plan backfired? Maybe she couldn’t work with anyone else? Then again, she could have been working on a family all this time and left the songwriting behind. Either way, he realized, it didn’t matter.
“So, this song,” he said, changing the subject. “Got a working title?”
She rejoined the conversation as if her news about Tracy hadn’t been a major revelation to him. “‘Butterflies.’”
“That’s a pretty definitive answer.”
Her brow rose. “You had to be in class.”
He played a few chords running around his head, strumming gently. “So I’m not the villain anymore?”
“Oh, I’m still not happy with you, but I appreciate your reasons for pushing this class on me. And the results.”
He nodded to the phone. “Go ahead and record.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
She tapped the icon and they launched into the song one last time. When they finished, she pressed the stop button. A heavy silence blanketed the room.
Their eyes met. She leaned forward and when her sweet scent tugged him closer, he didn’t fight the lure. His lips met hers and over the guitars, he kissed her. Softly, gently. Like the lyrics playing in his mind.
As the kiss grew deeper, Cassie abruptly pulled away. “You said we shouldn’t.”
He playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “You started it. Apparently you don’t listen very well.”
“I don’t want—” She stopped speaking abruptly, rose and with stiff motions, placed her guitar in the case on the floor.
Clearly, something bothered her. “Don’t want what, Cassie?”
She turned to face him, her brows angled in doubt. “This is all too much. Me volunteering here. You agreeing to help me, while battling all the unpleasant memories associated with music and your ex-wife.” She ran a hand over her braid. “I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t want to be a rebound for you.”
“You think that’s why I kissed you?”
“I don’t know. You clearly haven’t forgiven your ex.”
Luke rose and carefully set his guitar on the seat beside him. Cupped his hands on Cassie’s shoulders. “I would never treat you so cavalierly. I know how much it hurts.”
She stepped back, putting distance between them. His hands fell to his sides.
“Then until you’re sure how you feel about the past,” she continued, “we should remain colleagues. I’ll keep volunteering. You send me music students. Maybe we work on another song. But we stay professional. No more kissing.”
“We already decided that and it’s not working.”
Cassie shut the case and flicked the chrome latches secure. “We work harder at keeping our word.”
He shrugged off the letdown. “But kissing is a lot more fun.”
She pointed a finger at him. “No charming me, Luke Hastings. Keep your word until you know what you want.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, he lifted his guitar from the chair. “It won’t be easy.”
“If life were easy, we’d all be sitting on a beach drinking piña coladas. Unless you’re lazy. Then you won’t go anywhere.”
“One of your mom’s sayings?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting view on life.”
Cassie wrapped her hand around the handle and lifted the case. “I’ll see you later.”
He followed her as she left the room, his chest light even though she’d placed a moratorium on kissing. He’d have to get her to reconsider because the few kisses he’d experienced with her weren’t enough.
Besides, in just the course of a conversation, she’d made him rethink his jaundiced view of his life. Made him face his ghosts and for the first time in two years, he was more than ready to exorcize them. There was no way he was letting her slip away, not when he wanted to learn so much more about her.
Once she’d crossed the gym and exited the building, he returned to his office. On his desk he found a store receipt.
Denny had asked for money to replenish the paints in the art room. Believing in the young man, Luke had given him cash and asked him to return the change. He read the sales total, then looked for the difference. No loose change on the desk. The good mood he’d enjoyed with Cassie evaporated.
CHAPTER NINE
EVERY TIME LUKE tried to grab a minute with Denny the next afternoon, either a group of kids surrounded him or Denny was busy with Klub projects. Luke was sort of relieved. He still had a hard time picturing Denny as a thief. While he’d rather be mulling over his time with Cassie, and where this attraction between them might land, he had a mystery to solve.
He’d called the police chief the night before, unsure on how to proceed given the circumstances. The chief urged him to file a report. He would, but first he wanted answers, starting with Denny. Maybe he’d just forgotten to leave the change.
When the young man finally emerged from the art room, Luke motioned Denny to come to the office. Denny trotted over, his long legs eating up the distance, securing his glasses as he went.
“You need me, Mr. H.?”
“I do.”
When Luke closed the door behind them, Denny’s brow furrowed as he looked at Luke’s face then the door.
“Is something up?”
Luke always knew Denny to be an intuitive kid. It didn’t take much explaining to get him up to speed on a project or ways to draw attention to the programs at the Klub. He’d been all in from day one, which made Luke hate this situation all the more.
“I found the receipt on my desk last night for the art supplies you purchased.”
“I got a great deal at the craft store.” Denny’s eyes danced with pride. “Probably saved us five bucks.”
“I always appreciate a deal, but what about the change?”
“What about it?”
“There wasn’t any.”
“What are you talking about?” He pointed to the desktop. “I put it right there next to the receipt.”
Luke shook his head.
“Mr. H., I swear it was on your desk when I left.”
“Denny, sit down.”
The teen’s face went pale, but he did as Luke requested.
“Was anyone else with you?”
“Sure. Brandon and Kyle, but they were shooting hoops while I was in here.”
“Anyone else see you guys?”
“Erin and her friends were hanging around outs
ide, over by the picnic benches. It was late and most of the usual kids had gone home.”
Luke personally knew the boys with Denny. He also knew Erin ran with a rough crowd, kids who stayed on the periphery of the Klub, never joining in.
“Mr. H., you’re making me nervous.”
The time had come to reveal the truth of the matter. “It seems we have a problem. Some money has gone missing from the Klub.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Not only the change from last night, but the cash total didn’t balance from the food we sold at the concert. Two hundred dollars is missing.”
“Two... How would that much money go missing?” Denny asked.
“I’m asking you.”
Denny blinked. “Why me?”
“You were in charge that night.”
“I turned the money in. And you know I only run errands when you give me cash, like to the art store.”
Luke nodded. “Normally I wouldn’t need to check up, but this is serious.”
Silence ticked for a beat.
“Wait. Are you accusing me?” Jumping up, Denny jabbed his glasses higher on his nose. “Mr. H., you know me. I’d never steal from the Klub.”
“Then where is the missing change?”
“No idea.” His voice rose. “I can’t believe you think I’m guilty.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I can read it on your face.” He shot an accusatory glance at Luke. “After all I’ve done, you don’t trust me?”
Luke leaned back in his chair.
Denny’s reaction rang true. He was clueless about the missing money. Luke had dealt with enough teens to know when they told the truth or were obviously lying. The pain of Luke’s accusation reflected in Denny’s eyes. Luke had known the young man a long time and Denny’s reaction was enough to back up Luke’s next statement. “I do trust you. But you understand, I had to ask.”
“Well, it stinks.”
Luke hid a grudging smile. “It does. But I have a responsibility to the Klub, to the trustees and every kid who walks through those doors, to find out what’s going on.”