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by Melissa Pearl


  When I went up to grab my suitcase, Josh was locked away in his old room. Who knew what he was doing in there. I didn’t have the courage to knock and find out. Instead I muscled that case down the stairs. It landed with a thud on the wooden floor. I left it there and collected up my guitar, resting it gently inside the old black case. I was setting it down just as Mr. Stewart knocked on the main door.

  I ran to let him in, forcing a bright smile.

  The expression on his face turned my smile genuine. It was actually happening. I kind of wanted to keep pinching myself.

  “Good morning, Miss Myers.” He slid off his aviator shades, his dark eyes sparkling at me.

  “Please, call me Rachel.”

  “Then you can call me Parker.”

  “Deal.” I nodded.

  “Are those your cases?” He pointed over my shoulder and I nodded again.

  Brushing past me, he picked them up and then headed for his car.

  “Wait, I—”

  He stopped and glanced back at me. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just, um.” I swallowed. “I need to say goodbye.”

  I’d already spoken to Millie on the phone. She’d cried and blubbered her farewell, making me feel like I was dying rather than flying to the coast. Brock had muttered out a swift goodbye. That man was loyal to Josh like a puppy dog. He didn’t want me going because it made Josh sad, and he was making me pay for it with short, clipped sentences and an icy tone.

  Parker nodded at me from the doorway. “Okay, well, the plane leaves in a couple of hours, so we need to hit the road in five minutes if we’re going to make it to the airport in time.”

  “Right, got it.” I nodded, swamped by a nervous agitation that I hadn’t expected.

  Pressing my lips together, I turned for the stairs and found Josh waiting in the doorway.

  My heart squeezed tight at the sight of him—my towering man with his hangdog frown.

  “I—” I pointed behind me. “It’s time for me to go.”

  “Yeah.” Josh stared at the floor as he slowly moved toward me.

  “I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “Okay.”

  Damn, I was going to miss that deep voice—the soft, husky sound of it.

  His pale blue gaze hit me, making me feel everything from guilt to despair. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t say anything. He’d always struggled to talk about his feelings. I guess I just instinctively knew most of them, and as much as I wanted it, I couldn’t expect gushy prose.

  I needed to get the goodbye over with.

  Stepping forward, I rose to my tiptoes and brushed my lips against his. “I’ll see you, Josh.” My voice wavered, tears burning my eyes as I spun for the door.

  I yanked it open and headed for Parker’s car.

  “Rachel, wait!”

  My boot heel dug into the ground, and I turned to face my man. His large, grizzly bear body strode over to me, his jaw set tight and determined. He stopped right at my feet and pulled a note from his pocket.

  “What’s this?” I took the one-dollar bill from him.

  “I want you to buy me a postcard,” he croaked. “Find me one of a sunset or something.”

  My song—“Picture Postcards From L.A.”

  Well, ain’t that just the sweetest thing.

  Tears lined my lashes as I clutched the note in my hand. “I’ll sign it with love forever more.”

  Snatching me around the waist, Josh pulled me into a tight embrace. I clung to him like it was our last. My feet left the ground and I wrapped my legs around him, placing my hand on his face and running my thumb along his jawline.

  He didn’t have anything else to say, so I kissed him, a hungry, solid promise that I would return. I couldn’t promise him that I’d stay, but I also couldn’t go the rest of my life without seeing him again. I had no idea when I’d be back, but I knew for sure that I’d never love anyone the way I loved Joshua Clark.

  *****

  The flight took about four and a half hours. I’d never been on a plane before and I tell ya, I was pretty nervous when we took off, but looking out that tiny window at the world below, that was beyond belief. Mama would have loved it. She would have sat in her tiny, cramped seat going on about how exciting it was.

  She would have been right. It was exciting. In fact the further we flew, the more excited I got. The pain of leaving Josh was dulled by Parker’s chatter. He was telling me everything we’d be doing. He’d arranged it all the night before. His car was waiting for us at the airport, and he was going to drive me to my hotel.

  A hotel!

  I’d never stayed in one of them before. I mean, I’d been in the odd, disgusting motel room. The ones with the little kitchens in ’em, but I ain’t never stayed anywhere classy. And everything about Parker Stewart was classy.

  I stole a glance out the corner of my eye. His thumbs moved like lightning over the touch pad of his phone. I didn’t know how he typed so fast. He was such a city boy…and I was a country hick. Tugging on my little skirt, I shifted in my seat, leaning my forehead against the small window to look out again.

  The City of Angels was now beneath me, and all I could see were hundreds of houses with bean-shaped pools in their backyards. As the plane began its descent, I swear I was landing on an alien planet.

  Could I honestly do this?

  Whatever it takes.

  Mama’s words whispered through my brain, and I forced a smile as the plane touched down.

  Parker undid his seatbelt while the plane taxied for the gate and pulled out his bag from under the seat in front. I waited until the sign flicked off before unbuckling mine and awkwardly rising from my spot.

  Parker passed down my handbag and I threw it over my shoulder, lining up with the other passengers and slowly making my way off the plane.

  The flying had made me a little nauseous, but I kept my lips sealed. The last thing I wanted to do was puke in front of the man who was about to change my life. We walked to the baggage claim and I waited for my guitar in the special section, squeezing my fingers and praying it’d made the journey unscathed. It came through without a scratch, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Mama had scraped her pennies to buy me that guitar, and it was my last connection to her. I treasured it and couldn’t imagine ever not having it with me. I carried the case back to Parker’s side while he lifted off my bag. Resting it onto the trolley, he took the lead and we walked out of the airport.

  Throngs of people milled around, and it took a bit of getting used to. The traffic was insane. I’d never seen anything like it, and the frenetic buzz in the air kind of made me feel excited and overwhelmed all in the same minute.

  I hustled after Parker who powered ahead at a steady pace, his one long stride equaling two of mine. We reached his car several minutes later. It was buried deep in the parking lot.

  With a winning smile, he opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside, feeling a little like a princess. Drivers did not open doors for their passengers where I came from.

  The drive was fascinating. Parker put the top down on his car, and I saw all kinds of things on my way to the hotel. It made me feel like I was in a movie. You know the ones where the hillbilly goes to the big city and their eyes pop out as they take in all these strange sights. Well, that was me. I was the hillbilly and Los Angeles was like nothin’ I’d ever seen before.

  My jaw sat slack most of the way until we reached the ocean, and then my smile grew so wide it actually hurt my face.

  “That’s the ocean,” I breathed.

  Parker’s head snapped my way. “You’ve never seen the ocean before?”

  I shook my head, lost for words as I gazed at the endless blue. Clutching the top of the windshield, I rose in my seat so I could drink it all in—the white, powdery sand, the foamy lip of each wave. It was like paradise.

  Mama, can you see this?

  I knew she could, because she was there with me, no doubt just
as awe-inspired.

  The car slowed to a stop outside a fancy-looking hotel that sat across the road from the beach. The sign said: Hilton Waterfront Beach Resort.

  “Here? I’m staying here?”

  “Only the best for a potential client.” Parker’s grin was cocky as he lifted my cases from the trunk.

  I took the guitar case and carried it up the stairs behind him, walking into a shiny lobby with plush sofas, huge floral arrangements, and a marble floor that you could see your reflection in.

  I must have looked like a kid in Santa’s workshop. I couldn’t have closed my mouth if I’d wanted to.

  My worn-out boots made loud staccato beats on the marble floor. I waited behind Parker as he checked me in, and then he led me to the elevator and took us up to the tenth floor.

  The tenth!

  I’d never been that high in a building before.

  He opened the white door with a keycard and pushed it open, stepping back so I could go through first.

  “Lord love a duck.” I shook my head, taking in the most gigantic bed I had ever seen. It was covered in a crisp, white quilt and had three of the biggest pillows across it, plus a whole bunch more cushions on top of those. Behind that was glass—just glass—that looked out across the ocean. Everything about the room was elegant and beautiful. I placed my guitar down by the shiny, black coffee table and ran my hand over the pristine couch against the wall.

  “Your bathroom is through here.”

  I followed Parker’s finger and walked into a humongous bathroom. It had a tub with jets in it, plus a huge shower with two nozzle heads. The mirror took up most of one wall.

  “This place is…” I shook my head again.

  Parker chuckled, rubbing his mouth and looking highly amused. “Enjoy it. I’ll be back for you tomorrow at ten, and I’ll drive you to the audition.”

  I glanced at my watch. That was about eighteen hours away.

  “In the meantime, I suggest you work on an audition piece.”

  “Something like I did last night?”

  “That was good.” Parker nodded. “Maybe have a few songs ready to go. Definitely country and maybe something a little poppy, as well.”

  “Poppy?”

  “You know, the fusion of country and pop, like Taylor Swift or Michelle Branch.”

  My grin was instant. Michelle Branch! I loved her stuff.

  “I’m sure whatever you decide will be perfect.” His eyes scanned me from my curls to the tips of my boots.

  I tugged on my little denim skirt, suddenly three inches shorter with him staring at me that way.

  “The skirt and boots are perfect.” His lips pursed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe a more fitted top, something that shows off your body.”

  I frowned. I couldn’t help it. Why would I need to show off my body?

  His chuckling grin made his cheekbones protrude. “Not to sound like a shallow person, but we have to sell the whole package. Not only do you have an amazing voice, but you’re absolutely stunning and unfortunately in this business, looks do count. Don’t be afraid to show off that gorgeous body of yours. It definitely won’t do any harm.”

  My cheeks burned with a hot blush. I tucked a curl behind my ear and nodded. “Okay.”

  “You have a good night, Rachel.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Parker.”

  The second the door clicked shut, I let out a loud squeal and twirled on the spot.

  This was happening.

  This was actually happening!

  I leaped across the room to the couch and flicked my guitar case open. As soon as my guitar was nestled on my lap, I gave it a slow strum. Reaching for the tuning pegs, I adjusted them before flicking the strings. I retuned it until I was happy then closed my eyes and strummed again.

  “Anything and Everything” came out of me before I could stop it. That was Mama’s song. She used to sing it, believing just for a moment that dreams could come true. When she’d gifted me the guitar, it was the first song she wanted me to learn. I’d had to teach myself, following along on a little book she’d bought me, but it had come natural, and I picked it up pretty fast. I spent every spare second I could, hiding in the back of the shed and practicing until the tips of my fingers were indented with string lines.

  “Oh, baby, that’s beautiful.” Mama clasped her hands together and looked at me with glistening eyes. “You’re gonna have your own album one day and everyone’s going to buy it. People are gonna hear one second of your voice and fall completely in love.”

  I hoped she was right.

  I so desperately wanted to make her proud.

  In spite of the beach calling out the window, I decided to forsake my first feel of sand and stay in my room. I had work to do. I had people to wow in the morning, and I sure as heck wasn’t about to let my mother down.

  Chapter Nine

  Josh

  Stepping through the back door, I wiped my boots on the mat and clicked my fingers for Duke to follow. He snuffled and shook his slobbery jowls before walking past me. I ran my fingers through his fur as he trotted by. He was a big boy now, halfway through his life and five times the size of when I got him.

  I’d never forget the day Aunt Lindy placed him in my lap. The week earlier, she’d told me about her cancer and I’d been devastated. I’d only just gotten past losing my father, and the idea of losing her too had all been too much. Duke—the perfect distraction—was a godsend. I’d poured all my energy into training him and he’d become the perfect dog.

  We sauntered through to the main bar together, Duke heading for the window and stretching out for a nap in the warm sun. I envied him a little. I was up to my second sleepless night in a row. Work the night before had damn near killed me. Everyone wanted to know where Rachel was. Having to explain her absence—having to make it sound like I was excited for her—had been nearly impossible. I’d fudged my way through, ignoring those I told you so looks from Ol’ Dan and his posse of pessimists. Damn them! I’d never once regretted begging Uncle Amos to let her stay, and I’d never once regretted letting that girl into my bed. I didn’t care about her past. That girl was everything I wanted.

  Clutching the chair resting upside-down on the table, I pressed my forehead against one of the legs and forced myself to breathe. I didn’t usually start prepping the bar until lunchtime, but what the hell else was I supposed to do? Flipping the chair up, I then smacked it down on the floor before moving on to the next. It was usually Rachel’s job, but not anymore.

  I had to look at hiring someone to replace her, but I couldn’t let myself think about that just yet. She still had her audition to go and there were no guarantees she’d get accepted. Yeah, yeah, there’d probably be more auditions just around the corner, but if Parker couldn’t find her something quick, I was guessing he wouldn’t keep shelling out for accommodations and the like. And with her meager savings, Rachel definitely couldn’t afford to stay. Maybe she’d come home sooner than I thought.

  “Who are you trying to kid?” I muttered, pulling a chair off the table so fast it nearly flew into the window behind me.

  Setting it down, I sucked in a breath. I needed music, something to stop me from wrecking this whole damn place. Thumping over to the jukebox, I started it up.

  “These Days” by Rascal Flatts came on. I should have changed it but decided to endure the song, because that was not me. My Rachel would be coming back, and not after years of being away either. I wasn’t going to wait by the phone for her—I didn’t need to. I was going to trust that she’d get this whole big city, bright stage lights thing out of her system and return home.

  Swallowing back my doubts, I got to work on the next table.

  Duke’s head lifted off the floor, his low, gruff bark letting me know someone was coming. Checking my watch, I ambled back to the kitchen. Chef Denny never got there early—something must have been wrong.

  Just what I needed. Dang it!

  “Den, what’s the matter?”
I stormed into the kitchen only to be stopped by my best friend’s lazy smile.

  “Howdy, Grizz.” Brock held up a six-pack. “I thought you could use some company.”

  “You brought beer into my bar?”

  “Well, what the hell else was I supposed to bring? You can’t be drinking water when your heart’s breakin’.”

  I shot him a dry glare before heading back for the bar. “My heart ain’t breakin’,” I called over my shoulder.

  “You sure about that?” He followed me, placing the beer down and pulling one free.

  I stomped over to the tables, grabbed another chair and then slammed it onto the wooden floor. “She’s coming back.”

  “You sure about that?” Same question, entirely different tone.

  It hurt, because a part of me—the part I didn’t want to acknowledge—believed him.

  “It’s just an audition,” I grumbled.

  Brock popped his beer open and took a long guzzle before throwing me a can. I caught it and placed it on the table while I lowered the rest of the chairs.

  “When’s her audition then?” Brock sauntered over to table ten and got to work.

  “I don’t know, sometime today.”

  “She called you yet?”

  My lips pressed into a tight line, my fingers gripping the back of the chair.

  “I’m sure she’s just waiting until after the audition.” The lilt in Brock’s voice gave away the fact he was lying to make me feel better. That wasn’t usually his way.

  I met his gaze and saw the truth. His pitying smile made me want to hit him.

  “You’re gonna have to face it at some point, Grizz. She might never come back.”

  “This is her home.”

  Brock’s head shook. “She ain’t never called it that.”

  “But I wanted her to!” My thundering voice surprised even me. Closing my eyes, I ran a hand through my hair, my shoulders slumping. “I just…” I shook my head, not even knowing how to say it.

 

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