Sing to Me

Home > Nonfiction > Sing to Me > Page 1
Sing to Me Page 1

by Unknown




  Sing to Me

  by Raine Balkera

  Copyright 2014 Raine Balkera

  Smashwords Edition

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  If you would like to share this book with another person,

  please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it,

  or it was not purchased for your use only,

  then please return to your favorite ebook retailer

  and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events,

  business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  kzzkt

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 1

  At a recording studio in Northern Lower Michigan, twenty-six year old Liv Beckman sang the last of four songs for her latest client; a popular musician from the Netherlands. Liv is a highly sought after recording artist, but because she refuses to show herself or agree to tour with any bands, she’s had to decline a few lucrative contracts. It doesn’t worry her to have to turn down a chance to appear in concert with some amazing artists or not contribute to a blockbuster film project since she is comfortable in not only her hermitage but financially as well.

  Her privacy means more to her than fame and recognition ever will.

  Musicians and their agents discover her through her website, which consists of sample recordings in various genres. Her voice is featured on some of the most widely known recordings and OSTs as well as lesser-known tunes but by world-renowned artists. Her vocal range is operatic soprano to gospel soul and upbeat pop.

  The website excludes all personal information found on most other business websites. There are no pictures of her, no social media handles, phone numbers, or a twitter feed; just an email address. Liv had used social media when she started in the business, but as privacy rights became more of an issue, she deleted everything and stopped participating altogether. It wasn’t above some of the people she worked with to ridicule her lack of social media identity, and others actually laughed at her for being un-hip, but that didn’t bug Liv, either.

  She owns a smart phone and a laptop, but both the phone number and wireless provider are registered in her attorney’s name, as is the two-story brick Federal style home that she lives in on Lake Michigan’s shore.

  Liv is as far removed from her past as she can get. Thousands of miles away from what she ran from back in California. There is no one from her childhood whom she could possibly miss by being a hermit. She has new friends who aren’t aware of that shadowy past; a history Liv chooses to pretend never even occurred.

  Therapy had helped to overcome a majority of the issues she still deals with on occasion, but for the most part she has moved on and is a new woman living a new life in her own way and at her own pace.

  “That’s a wrap.”

  Liv nodded to the recording engineer smiling at her on the other side of the glass booth and removed her headphones. Sighing aloud after a long day, she gently patted her vocal chords. That last tune took four tries before she and the sound engineer liked what they heard.

  “Give yourself a few minutes to recover,” the engineer suggested as she rose from her chair in front of a console laden with buttons, knobs, and levers. “I’ll listen to everything later and call if there’s anything wrong. Want some coffee?”

  Liv shook her head. “No, thanks.” Smiling at the woman, she wagged a bottle of water and set the headphones on the stool she’d been sitting on for the past two hours. “I’ve got what I need.”

  The engineer turned to leave when the door opened and a famous musician appeared. His six-foot two frame filled the opening, and his smile lit up the already bright room.

  Startled to see someone of his magnitude there, the engineer instinctively turned to face Liv, as if to assume he must be there to see her about something music-related.

  Liv stood frozen and agape, feeling the heat of blush turn her cheeks pink as she gazed in shock at Neal Hendrix.

  If there had been anyone from her past whom she would rather never see again, it was him: the guy who had innocently or otherwise started the miserable ball rolling and helped to destroy what little Liv had at the time.

  Seeing him again brought back the memories she worked hard to erase from her mind.

  First kiss. Her first kiss was standing in the doorway of the studio, and instead of being outraged; Liv could only gape at the attractive man with his still-long auburn hair that fell in thick waves about such broad shoulders. Gone were the baby face features and gangly form; replaced with manly features to include broad cheekbones somewhat hollow underneath, and dark, manageable brows above such beautiful, jade eyes. From where she stood, it looked like he still possessed thick, dark lashes as well. Broad chest, a narrow waist, flat stomach, and long, sturdy legs all hinted at daily workouts, too.

  In low-rise jeans, a thin striped button-down, and a tan jacket, Neal Hendrix looked every bit as Brit polished today as Liv could recall having seen him that first and last day in high school. What she had thought to be a well-hid memory suddenly returned with such clarity that she could actually recall his scent and the way it had felt to have his lips pressed against hers. The warmth of his firm grip on her arms as he held her in that startling moment. It had amazed her then to be so instantly attracted to someone, and that same uneasy feeling returned with as much vigor now.

  Still, it was a day that had sealed her fate. That day when the hot new guy in high school had stepped in front of her and gazed into her eyes until she felt funny. And then he had slid an arm about her waist, drawing her to him for that damn kiss. A kiss that rocked her world in two equally impressive yet completely opposite ways. It had thrilled her to have someone so handsome and popular notice her. Then it became the reason for her misery. The result of his impetuous move had had unimaginably awful consequences for her.

  Shaking herself from the memory, Liv reached for her purse and left the sound booth, determined to ignore attractive, famous Neal Hendrix.

  “It is you.”

  She stopped at the sound of his deep, syrupy voice and stared against her will, slowly sliding the purse strap over her shoulder. That smile of his had a way about it; a magic spell like the one she thought he had cast on her eight years ago. She still had to wonder how someone so attractive, so sought after then and now could possibly have any interest in her.

  Hold up a second. That was what she used to think about herself, but not anymore. Folding her arms at her chest, she narrowed her eyes and tried not to return as friendly a smile.

&nbs
p; “How did you find me?” she asked. They had actually been in contact for close to seven months now, but Neal didn’t know that because of those well-guarded privacy settings. The back and forth emails of him trying to get her to sign a recording contract, and of her always turning him down. If it were anyone else besides Neal, Liv would have been less evasive and agreed to the contract terms. Because it was Neal, she had to say no in order to keep him out of her life.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see again,” he said, his voice making her skin tingle. His British accent wasn’t as pronounced as it was back then, yet still as sexy as she remembered. “Honest,” he added, standing before her now and still smiling. He started to reach for her the way he had done eight years ago, and Liv backed away this time, averting her gaze. Blush returned to her cheeks, upsetting her more, and the tears that stung her eyes added to her growing anger. “It’s great to see you again,” he said. “So, you’re the voice.” He laughed under his breath, making her eye him. “This comes as quite a shock.”

  “Not for me,” she said and pressed a hand against his arm to brush past him on her way out the door.

  In the parking lot, a woman stopped her, asking if Neal Hendrix was inside the studio. Liv could feel him bearing down on her and didn’t want to be detained, so she nodded curtly and continued to her red jeep. She heard him call out to her as she entered the vehicle, forcing her to slam and lock the door.

  Neal watched as the jeep sped off, and then he saw the woman who stood smiling at him. Stunned, he removed a phone from his back pocket and dialed 911.

  Chapter 2

  Arriving home, Liv threw her purse and sweater on a nearby chair and growled with frustration. All during the thirty-minute drive back home, she thought about nothing else but Neal and having her well-managed privacy suddenly taken from her. All the hard work and effort she had put into keeping her life her own was pointless now, and unless she was willing to move, things would never be the same again.

  “How the hell did he find me?” she whined before vigorously rubbing the sides of her head, messing up her sand-blonde hair in the process. Another lesser grumble escaped right before the doorbell chimed, startling her. It had to be Neal. Sherry was in Montréal with her boyfriend, Carmen was on a business trip to Dallas, and Noelle would still be working at the hotel back in the city. Her shift didn’t end until nine and it was only going on five.

  “Who –?” she started to ask when a man’s authoritative voice came from the other side of the heavy, steel door.

  “Miss Beckman? This is Trooper Stevens. Open the door, please.”

  “Trooper?” she whispered, cringing with dread. Had she maybe sped home and not realized it because of how angry she’d been? Her shoulders fell as she turned the dead bolt and slid the chain lock; opening the door just enough to see that there really was a state trooper standing on the front porch.

  The old adage about a man in uniform rang true with Officer Stevens. Young, fit, and fair with dark blond hair and piercing blue eyes, he smiled as he removed his cap, making her heart flutter, but much weaker than it had after seeing Neal enter the recording studio.

  “Good evening,” Stevens said in a nice voice that wasn’t as deep as Neal’s. “There’s been a report of stalking, and I’d like a moment of your time, please.”

  “Stalking,” she giggled the word. “I went to work, the gas station, and then home. If anyone thinks I’m a stalker, they can –.”

  “No, ma’am,” the trooper shook his head. Before he could say anything, Neal appeared behind him, causing Liv to gasp.

  “Please, let us in, Liv. This is important.”

  “He thinks I’m a stalker?” Liv asked the officer while pointing at Neal. Embarrassed and near tears, Liv shook her head in vehement denial. “He’s lying!”

  “Liv,” Neal said, trying not to smile. “You misunderstand,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a car was heard driving past the house. Mature pine and birch trees separated the two-lane highway and the eighteenth-century home situated on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan, making the house well concealed. If anyone turned onto the private drive leading to the house, Liv, the trooper, and Neal would have heard the crunch of tires on gravel.

  “Let us in.”

  Frowning about the bossiness of Neal’s tone, Liv glanced at the officer and noticed he appeared somewhat anxious to have her agree. She stood aside with the door open wide so that the men could enter. Neal turned and leaned forward to look in the direction of the highway before closing the door. Smiling now, he extended an arm in the direction of a nearby sofa, indicating his desire to have her join them in the discussion of a matter that eluded as much as it intimidated her.

  Insulted by his pushiness, Liv turned and walked into the parlor on their left. Neal and Stevens followed, but when they got comfortable on the same floral print sofa, Liv rose from a red linen armchair and offered them something to drink.

  Stevens shook his head, and Neal asked for tea. Liv frowned, but Neal was craning his neck to peer out a lace-curtained window. Smiling at Stevens, Liv held up two fingers and left the room.

  Returning a few minutes later with a tray, three cups, and the pot of tea, Liv thanked the officer for his help even when Neal was first to rise and first to latch onto the tray. Both men set it on a coffee table and shared an awkward glance before sitting back down.

  “Now,” Liv said after pouring their tea and sitting on the arm of the red chair situated across from them. “If this guy hasn’t accused me of being a stalker, then why are you here?”

  Neal drew himself away from the window to stare at her with a look of disbelief that irked Liv enough to make her want to ignore him, so she kept her focus on the state trooper. She would pretend that Neal wasn’t really inside her house in order to keep from either losing her temper or maybe throwing something at his head. That he was inside her house was worse than having anyone from her past discover where she lived.

  Before she could start to think about having to up and move again, the trooper cleared his throat, getting her full attention.

  “I’m the one being stalked,” Neal said before the trooper could speak. “Did you happen to see or speak to the woman who was outside the studio just now?”

  Liv furrowed both brows in thought and then eyed Stevens. “She asked if he was inside and I said yes. Well, I nodded. What’s this got to do with me?”

  “Liv,” Neal said, making her look away as she sipped her tea. “I’m sorry it had to turn out this way, but the woman is . . . dangerous. There’s no way I can assure you or Officer Stevens that you’re safe after she’s seen you with me.”

  Outraged, Liv set down her tea and narrowed her eyes at the worried man.

  “With you?” she whined.

  Stevens, sensing the tension building between them, cleared his throat.

  “Miss?” he said, waiting until Liv met his gaze before he continued. “He’s right. There’s a restraining order against her that she obviously violated, and unfortunately, she fled before the local authorities arrived at the studio. We’re searching the area now, but according to Mr. Hendrix and the authorities in Chicago, this is a pretty serious matter.”

  “For him,” Liv said, pointing at Neal while eyeing the trooper. “Not me. If you hadn’t come here, how would she know where to look?”

  “How do you think we found you?”

  Red-faced and upset, Liv glanced at Neal. Folding her arms at her chest and gently wagging a foot against the side of the chair, she hissed at Neal. “I’d rather hear everything from Trooper Stevens if you don’t mind.”

  “I was given your license plate number,” the trooper offered.

  Wide-eyed, Liv stared at Stevens though she felt like strangling Neal. “He memorized my license plate?”

  “I knew you were in danger,” Neal said in defense of his actions.

  Stevens smiled. “Great bit of detective work, too.”

  “What’s wrong, Liv?” Neal rose
from the sofa and rubbed his muscular thighs. “I’m only trying to help. Why are you being this way? Is it because of what happened eight years, three months, seventeen days, and two hours ago?”

  Stevens stared at Neal with incredulity before glancing at Liv with a shy smile.

  Liv rose slowly from the arm of the chair and took a step toward the attractive man who possessed a mathematicians brain. “Impressive,” she cooed, a plastic smile on her upset face. “If you say another word about that . . . day, I swear I’ll –.”

  “Whoa,” Stevens interrupted and held out a hand to calm them both. It was fine with Liv since she had no idea how to end that threatening sentence anyhow. She turned away from Neal and folded her arms again, pouting at the barren fireplace hearth.

  “I kissed her,” Neal explained to the trooper. “I couldn’t help myself. It was my first day at that school, and I’d been surrounded by loud guys and pushy girls all day. My head ached and I was dying to get the hell out of there when she appeared.” He paused as Liv turned so that he was able to gaze at her in profile, blushing to see him smiling at her. “Like sunshine and a breath of fresh air,” he continued. “Any of the corny, make-believe scenarios you can think of, it all happened to me in an instant. Rainbows, singing cherubs, bursting hearts, and twinkling stars. I saw it all when I first laid eyes on this woman.” He raised his brows and half-eyed Stevens. “It was the first impulsive episode of my life, and I never once regretted it.”

  “So, I take it you two know each other, then?”

  Liv clicked her tongue at the same time Neal let out a breath of laughter, and both responses made the trooper blush before he quietly apologized.

  “I still don’t get how this involves me,” Liv said. “And, believe it or not Neal, I’m sorry you’re in this kind of a predicament. If trooper Stevens thinks I’m in danger, then I’ll believe him. I’m going to have to move now anyway, so you two can be on your way. I’ve got packing to do and a house to sell.”

 

‹ Prev