“But there’s a huge majority in the middle who would fail without the proper support, but who—with the right instruction and coaching—could be absolutely brilliant!”
“Wow, it sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought,” Troy said.
“I have. Especially since Mila’s recital. And I’ve made a decision.” She extended her arms wide, as if to encompass the entire room in one sweeping gesture.
Troy looked around the big, empty space and tried to put it all together. Finally, he shook his head. “Okay, I guess I give up. What does that mean?”
Alison practically shivered with excitement as she said, “I’m opening up a school for the performing arts. I’m calling it Triple Threat, and there will be classes in singing, acting, and dancing. I’ve already leased the space.”
Troy was speechless. The ramifications of her announcement bounced off of each other in his mind, making it difficult to settle on just one aspect of the development to focus on. But the one thought that loomed larger than any of the others in his mind, the one he kept coming back to again and again, was: This means she’ll be sticking around. This makes it official.
Mila chimed in then, with her usual dry delivery, “Here’s the thing… Don’t make the mistake of assuming all the kids in Valentine Bay are as talented as I am. You’ll be in for a big disappointment.”
Alison laughed and squeezed Mila’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve already thought of that. The plan is to hold the beginner and intermediate classes, the ones which would more likely appeal to locals during the week in the afternoons. Then, on weekends, there will be two-day seminars to attract people from out of town. I see the school becoming a destination for elite master workshops eventually.”
Troy finally found his voice. “That sounds like an incredible venture. I assume you’re going to need some help fixing the place up?”
She smiled engagingly. “If only I knew someone with contracting skills that I could run my ideas by. That would be so great. It would probably involve some late-night strategy sessions in front of the fire with a glass of wine.”
He grinned back. “I’ll let you know if I think of anyone.”
Mila poked him in the ribs. “Maybe one of your buddies from work could do it.”
Troy punched her lightly in the shoulder. “Watch it, kid. You’re on thin ice.”
They both laughed at the teasing, and Troy felt just about completely happy in that moment. He had concrete proof Alison was going to be staying around. He had more and more moments with Mila lately where she was her old self, the funny and sweet girl that he loved spending time with, and not the sulky, sensitive teenager-Mila that he’d been dreading spending the next five years around.
Life was pretty damn good, and looking better all the time.
Chapter 38
Alison opened the door to Deja Brew, the small coffee shop a few doors down from the future site of Triple Threat. She was meeting Troy in the space this morning to begin discussing ideas and scheduling, and she’d been so excited to leave the house and get the day started this morning that she just hadn’t been able to bring herself to stay in the kitchen and brew a pot of coffee. The idea of standing there and waiting for the fragrant brown liquid to fill the carafe as endless minutes ticked by was more than she could bear. So, she decided that she’d just get a cup of coffee on the way instead.
As she stepped up to the counter to give her order, she heard a familiar voice call her name and turned to greet her friend. “Hey, Ella!”
The two women exchanged a quick hug and Ella said, “I see you had the same idea as me this morning. Coffee on the go. Were you running late, or do you have a more responsible reason?”
Alison bit her lip, doing her best to keep her face neutral even as all of her excitement really wanted to come busting out all over. “I was just anxious to get out of my house and get my day started,” she answered, keeping her language as non-committal and nonspecific as possible.
“Oh, right!” Ella replied. “I forgot! This is your first morning working with Troy on the space you leased, right? How exciting.”
“Wait…what?” Alison sputtered, surprised. How did Ella know about it?
Ella tilted her head to the side and said, in a puzzled tone, “Yeah…the space three doors down, right? The standalone brick building that used to be the movie theater. Although, I mean, you wouldn’t know that. But…you leased it, right? For a dance studio?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, not really a dance studio, but close. But I was shocked because…how did you know that? I’ve barely told anyone!”
Ella laughed. “Oh, honey. Small town, remember? Everyone knows! And they’re thrilled. The whole town is kind of buzzing about it, actually.”
“Right, yeah. I keep forgetting. It’s so different than what I’m used to.”
“So,” Ella said, nudging her shoulder, “I guess that means you’re gonna be sticking around for a while, huh?”
Alison nodded. “That’s the plan. I’m looking forward to it. And to teaching.”
“And you won’t miss the bright lights or big city, huh?” Ella asked wistfully.
Alison considered for a moment before answering. “No, I don’t think so. Not for a good long while, at least.
She heard those words as they came out of her mouth and recognized the kind of preplanned, canned responses that she’d used so often to respond to the press, and fans, during her career.
“Oh, I loved working with this cast, we were like a big family!”
“Working with insert-interchangeable-middle-aged-white-guy-director’s-name-here was a revelation. He’s a true genius.”
“Of course I’m sad I didn’t win the Tony, but it was an honor just to be nominated among such esteemed company.”
And, yeah, she’d memorized this line, too, about not missing New York. She’d assumed that it was going to have the same quality to it as the others—using glossy language to simplify complicated feelings down to one easily-digestible sentiment, when the truth was much more nuanced.
Because, as much as she loved Valentine Bay and the people in it, and as sure as she was about her decision to stay and make a home here—surely she’d miss the constant hustle of the greatest city on earth?
Right?
But as she spoke the words to Ella, she realized that, to her surprise, she meant them. Deep down and completely. She was done with the backbiting, with the fakery. Would she miss performing, miss the crowds? Of course. But when it came to where she wanted to make her home, there was no contest.
She wanted Valentine Bay.
Alison crossed the distance from the coffee shop, pushed through the door to the raw space she’d leased, and the first thing she saw was the very fine ass of the main reason she was staying in Valentine Bay, displayed to perfection as the owner of said delectable butt squatted down and measured a length of wall.
She wolf whistled him, and he whipped his head around as he stood, surprised. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting you this early.”
She walked over to the plywood he’d laid across two sawhorses and set down the coffees that she’d brought for them and then walked over to him, nestling into his arms and giving him a long, soulful kiss.
It was a stark contrast, the effect that the smell of the freshly cut wood laid across sawhorses had on her now, as opposed to the first day she’d met Troy!
“Mmmm…” he said as they drew apart, “Okay, I get why you came early. And I’m not opposed to a little early morning fun. But we should probably find some way to cover up the storefront windows first. It is Main Street, after all.”
She laughed, swatting him lightly on the chest. “You wish, stud. Nope. I just couldn’t help myself, I was too excited to get here.”
He walked over and picked up one of the cups of coffee. “Is this mine?”
When she nodded, he took a long, satisfied sip and then continued, “Yeah, same here. I couldn’t wait to get started on the plans. Even though I hadn’t e
ven seen any of your thoughts or the photos of what you had in mind, I wanted to get a head start on taking measurements and mapping out the loadbearing walls and electrical. I wanted to already have a good idea of what would be logistically possible when we talked.”
“You see? That’s why you have a very good chance of being hired for this job. Your work ethic and preparation.”
He laughed. “I’m a front runner, huh?”
She pretended to waffle. “Well, I’m not really at liberty to get too deep into the negotiation process, but let’s just say you haven’t been counted out of the running yet.”
He set his coffee down and grabbed her up in his arms, spinning her around twice. When he set her feet back on the ground, he trailed his fingertips down her neck and looked into her eyes. “Well, maybe this can give me a little advantage.”
He kissed her, then, so softly and gently that it made her head spin with the sweetness of it. She snaked her arms around his neck and let her lips dance against his, her heart beating faster with every movement of fingers, lips, and tongue.
Finally, she drew back, breathless. “All right, fine. You’ve got the job.”
He smiled, giving her another quick kiss. “Good. I was pretty sure that would work. It was pretty effective when I used it with old man Carver when I bid on the hardware store job.”
She laughed so hard that she almost didn’t hear her phone ring. When the sound finally did cut through to her consciousness, she had to frantically dig in her bag to find it before the call got sent to voicemail. She swiped and answered without even looking at the caller ID on the screen.
“Hello?” Her voice was breathless as she answered.
“Oh, glad I caught you, darling. Were you up to some naughty shenanigans? Your voice sounds as if your hair is probably disheveled right now.”
Her cheeks colored. “Hello, Caroline. And, no I was just laughing.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it nowadays?” Caroline had always been able to make any comment sound so sophisticated merely by applying her dry intonation, and the effect it had on Alison was always to make her feel like a sloppy kid who’d just slammed through the kitchen door, sweaty from running outside, wearing overalls and muddy sneakers, her frizzy hair sticking out every which way. This time was no different. Alison immediately felt ashamed at the question, even though she’d been doing nothing wrong.
“What can I do for you, Caroline?”
“Darling, it’s what I can do for you.”
Uh-oh. Caroline had gone into uber agent mode. Alison had suspected that the emotional goodbye they’d had before Caroline’s trip to the airport wouldn’t be the last of things. That just wasn’t how Caroline operated. Alison was sure that no sooner had she gotten on the plane than she’d started scheming to figure out one last thing—one big, spectacular offer—that she could try to get Alison back into the fold. She wouldn’t have been at the top of her industry if her mind didn’t work like that, after all.
“Don’t bother with the hard sell. It’s me. I know all of your moves. Just tell me what you’ve cooked up.”
“Fine,” Caroline said pragmatically. “Just the facts. I understand you’re not in the right headspace to come back to New York or take on another role right now, but I was contacted by Ira Blumfeld and David Glass. They produce high-end concert series. They’d like to meet with you about the concept of building a tour around you. Very exclusive. Intimate venues. Three figure plus tickets. You’d write your own program, choose your own music. A truly spectacular opportunity.”
Despite herself, Alison felt her skin tingle at the possibility. This could be a chance to keep her hand in the industry without having to deal with all the darker parts of the job. It was intriguing.
“I’ll think about it,” she hedged.
“Don’t think too long. They’re in San Francisco next week, and they want to have dinner to discuss the deal.”
“I don’t know, that’s so fast, Caroline. I’ve got things going on here.”
“Things that are so important you can’t take two seconds to let the nice men wine and dine you? Come on, now, Alison. Don’t pass up on a great opportunity just because you’re being stubborn. Or lovesick. Or whatever it is.”
It was a decent point, she had to admit.
“Text me the details. I’ll do the dinner.”
“That’s what I like to hear!”
Chapter 39
When Alison had jokingly mentioned she thought she and Troy had a lot of long evenings in front of the fireplace ahead of them, complete with glasses of wine, this wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind. She’d pictured them poring over the dream board photos she’d collected, talking about which projects would be feasible in the space and how they would make it work.
She’d imagined it being fun.
To be fair, that was how this had started out, but that wasn’t how it was ending.
“Alison, I just wish you’d be honest about what you want,” Troy said, his head in his hands. She could hear how frustrated he was, and it did tug at her heartstrings, but, damn it, she was frustrated, too.
“I haven’t lied. Not once. I’ve told you I’m torn, and confused, and unsure what the future holds. That is the truth. I am being honest.”
He shook his head. “I knew this was a mistake. I got carried away. The first time in so many years I haven’t put Mila first and look where it gets me. Gets us.”
“Where it gets you? What are you talking about? I am literally flying down to San Francisco for one dinner meeting. It’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”
“When you said you were opening up a business here, I let myself believe you were really staying.”
“I didn’t say I’m opening a business here. I am opening a business here. And I am staying. That’s the plan. Even if this concert series came through, we’re not looking at me moving. It would be travel. A lot of people travel for work. It’s not unheard of.”
Troy nodded. He was silent for a long time, then he said, “I know. You’re right. You’re right about everything you’re saying. I know that. I understand it. In my head, anyway. My emotions are upside down, though. This whole thing has thrown me for a loop.”
Alison breathed a sigh of relief that he realized that, thinking that things could just settle back to normal between them. She’d just settled back against the couch cushions, a smile on her face, waiting for him to smile back at her, when his next sentence blindsided her.
“So, I think maybe we should take a little break. I’m not seeing things rationally. And I need to get my head on straight. It’s only fair to Mila. That’s the kind of parent she needs.”
She sat forward, her stomach lurching, her face losing color. “A break?”
He nodded, then took a step closer to her and brushed his fingers along her hairline. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I think that’s for the best.”
She swallowed hard. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. That wasn’t the kind of woman she was. Still, her voice came out froggy when she said, “For how long?”
He shrugged. “Till you get back, I think. And it doesn’t have to be weird. Text me when your plane lands and everything. It’s not a total communication blackout. I just…” He paused and looked into her eyes, his filling with tortured angst. “I need to not see your beautiful face for a while. Hear your angel voice. Smell your intoxicating hair. I have to think straight, and I can’t do that in the same room as you.”
His voice strangled on the last phrase and he strode out the door, not once looking back at her. She heard his truck fire up and rumble off down the road, and only then did she start to cry.
Chapter 40
Alison gazed around at the subdued hustle and bustle of the five-star restaurant, listened to the two producers pitch their idea as if it were the greatest thing since sliced bread, tasted the gourmet food and fine wine on her tongue… and felt strangely disconnected from all of it.
It was suc
h a strange progression. Not six months ago, she would’ve been laser-focused on this meeting, dying to know what the concert series could do for her career and putting on her “sly negotiator” hat to wrangle the best deal she could.
“Alison, think about it this way,” David said, “you can make as much money and garner as much exposure working twelve nights a year as you can doing eight shows a week. Not only that, but you’ll have total creative control. The setlist, the band, the costumes. All of it, up to you.”
Damn, she had to admit, it sounded tempting as hell.
“I understand everything you’re saying. And, believe me, I’m interested. The only reservation I have is that I don’t know if I’m really in the right headspace to put forth a major creative performance right now. It’s tough to plan and execute an Alison Bartholomew extravaganza performance when I’m having a tough time figuring out what it even means to be Alison Bartholomew at this point in my life.”
David nodded, and he and Ira exchanged looks. Ira said, “Forgive me for being too forward, but is it possible there’s more to it than that? Maybe you’re a bit unsure about your professional presence after the reality show?”
She took a moment to consider that, then nodded slowly. “I suppose there could be an element of that. After all, I’d never give my fans less than one hundred percent. If I didn’t know that I could march out on that stage and command it completely, I wouldn’t do it at all. That’s not fair to them. They paid for a ticket, and they deserve the best show I can deliver.”
David leaned forward, intensity sparking from him. “What if there was a way that you could figure out whether or not you’ve ‘got it’ right now, so to speak? A very low pressure, low risk way to get in front of an audience filled with exactly your target demographic, people that love your music and music exactly like it, and see what it feels like?”
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