My Wildest Dream: Whisper Lake #2

by Barbara Freethy

  "It was my pleasure," Hannah said. "But I do have to get back to work."

  "I'll walk out with you," Gianna said.

  As her friends left, she faced the two people who had known her for her entire life. "I did it."

  Adam nodded, a proud smile in his eyes. "I never had any doubt."

  "Me, either," Lizzie declared.

  "Well, I had plenty of doubts, but I'm glad I sang. It felt good."

  "Does this mean you might sing tomorrow night?" Lizzie asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

  "We'll see. One performance at a time." She looked back at Adam. "How is everything going on the arson case?"

  "George has been very talkative, not just about the current fires, but also the one that took the life of Sam Robbins. George has been tormented by his thoughts and actions.”

  "As he should be," she said.

  "Yes. He'll be going away for a long time."

  "I'm sorry for his family, but I’m glad he won't be able to hurt anyone else."

  "And now the town can relax," Lizzie said.

  "Definitely." Adam paused. "Brodie took a couple of days off. You don't know where he went, do you, Chelsea?"

  "He went to see his father."

  "I'm surprised he missed this. You two have gotten close, haven't you?"

  "We have, but we also have our own lives to live."

  "What does that mean?" Lizzie cut in.

  Seeing too much interest in their faces, she said vaguely, "It doesn't mean anything. I know you have to get back to work, Adam, but if you're not in a rush, I was going to offer to treat you to lunch."

  "I can't," he said regretfully. "I'll see you later."

  "I can do lunch," Lizzie said as Adam left. "We can talk more about your performance and about Brodie."

  "Don't make me regret my invitation to lunch."

  "I don't think that's the regret you need to worry about," Lizzie said pointedly.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Friday afternoon, Chelsea rode to Denver in her sister's car, with Lizzie at the wheel. It was unfortunate her parents were in Hawaii, since she hadn't seen them in a few months, and this would have been a good opportunity. On the other hand, not adding family pressure into her first public concert in a year and a half was probably a good thing. While the school performance had been a small step forward, tonight would be more of a giant leap.

  It wouldn't be friends and kids in the audience, it would be some of the best singers in country music, their agents, their managers, and their labels. Jessalyn's birthday party concert would be a hot ticket. While Jessalyn had promised her she'd be among friends, she wasn't naïve enough to think that was true.

  Music was a cutthroat business. Some of her rivals had no doubt been happy when she'd quit. They might be cheering her on the outside, but they'd probably be privately hoping she'd fail. And there were others who would be jealous of her relationship with Jessalyn. That had happened early on in her career. People she'd thought were friends had turned on her when Jessalyn had invited her to open for her. Jealousy, drama, love, hate—it was all part of the music scene, and it was the part she liked the least.

  "When's the last time you were here?" Lizzie asked, as the city skyline came into view.

  "Mom's birthday last March. What about you?"

  "I came in late June. I had to pick up some furniture for the inn. When I walked in the house, Mom was doing one of her jigsaw puzzles and Dad was snoring away in the recliner."

  "Same as always."

  "They have a good marriage. They're not just best friends; they still have the spark. I see it when they look at each other."

  "I've seen it, too."

  "It makes me envious," Lizzie added, shooting her a smile. "I wonder if I'll ever have that kind of relationship."

  "You will. You just have to meet the right person, and you never know when that will happen."

  "It happened for you, didn't it?"

  "I told you yesterday, I don't want to talk about Brodie."

  "Well, I'm over that," Lizzie said bluntly. "For the last year and a half, I've had to walk on eggshells around you. There were so many things you didn't want to talk about. I always had to hold my tongue, so I didn't upset you. But you're better now. You told me the truth about why you left music. You faced your fear yesterday and you're doing it again tonight. So, tell me how you're feeling about Brodie."

  She realized she hadn't been very fair to Lizzie or to the rest of her family. "I'm sorry you felt you had to walk carefully around me."

  "You don't have to apologize. I just want us to be as close as we were when we were younger, when we could talk about anything."

  "I want that, too. All right. You want to know how I'm feeling about Brodie." She drew in a breath and let it out. "I like him—a lot."

  "Like him?"

  "Okay, maybe it's more like love," she conceded. "Not that I've told him that. Nor has he told me that."

  "Did you talk to him today?"

  "He texted me last night, asking me about the school concert. But it was a pretty short exchange. He said he was at a dinner. I haven't heard from him today."

  Lizzie frowned. "That seems odd."

  "Which is why I'm feeling unsure. I don't know if we have a future together, and I really want one. But I can't hold him back. I can't tell him not to take this job if he wants it."

  "Well, if he moves to LA, you could go with him. I'd miss you, but if it made you happy…"

  "I don't know if I'd want to live in LA."

  "If Brodie was there, you could probably be persuaded."

  "I'd be changing my whole life for a man I've known for two weeks. How could I do that?"

  "You knew Austin for years before you hooked up and moved in together. Look how that worked out. It's not about quantity of time; it's about quality. You also know yourself better now. I think Brodie is a good match for you."

  "I know myself better, but I'm not as clear on what I want as I'd like to be."

  "You know what you want; you're just afraid to say it."

  "I don't think that's true."

  "It is. You'll see."

  Two hours later, Chelsea found herself waiting to perform. Only this time she wasn't backstage in an elementary school auditorium, she was in a luxurious dressing room at the Glasshouse, a gorgeous circular theater with floor-to-ceiling glass walls. Inside were enormous and spectacular chandeliers, bringing the glass look into the interior as well. The concert would be held in one room, the dinner in another. The meal would be prepared by a Michelin-starred chef and the dessert made by one of the best pastry chefs in Colorado. After they ate, there would be dancing and probably more singing from Jessalyn's guests. And, of course, the champagne would be flowing throughout the evening.

  Jessalyn swept into the dressing room in a cloud of expensive perfume, her face perfectly made up, and her blonde hair swept up in a messy bun. Diamond earrings dangled from her ears, matching a beautiful diamond tear drop on her necklace.

  "Good, you're still here,” Jessalyn said.

  "Where else would I be?" she asked, exchanging a light hug and air kiss with Jessalyn.

  "Halfway to Whisper Lake."

  "I'm not going to run."

  "I'm happy to hear that. You look beautiful."

  "Thank you." Upon arriving at the venue, she'd changed into a clingy, champagne-gold dress, that would glitter in the lights and the reflection from the chandeliers. Jessalyn had picked it out for her. It was much fancier than anything she would have worn. She'd usually chosen to perform in jeans or comfortable, flowing dresses, but this was Jessalyn's event, so she hadn't complained.

  Jessalyn was wearing an off-the-shoulder, teal-colored dress that emphasized her generous breasts and beautiful skin.

  "You don't look anywhere close to fifty," she told her.

  "Now I know why I like you so much," Jessalyn teased. "I'm very glad you're here, Chelsea. It means a lot to me."

  "I think it's going to mean a lot to
me, too. I know you're doing this for me."

  "I'm doing it for myself, too. You have one of the prettiest voices I've ever heard. I told you that ten years ago, and I still feel the same. You were blessed, Chelsea."

  "I know."

  "Are you nervous?"

  "More like terrified, but I'm trying to ignore it."

  "Do you want me to get your sister?"

  "Please, don't. I love Lizzie to death, but if she thinks I'm nervous, she'll get nervous, and we'll feed off each other and that's not good."

  "Definitely not good. Is there anything I can do for you?"

  "I'm fine. I'm ready."

  "You'll do great. Just remember—no matter who is in the audience, you're singing for you."

  "I will try to focus on that."

  Jessalyn started toward the door, then paused. "Paul told me you're doing a new song, and he really likes it," she said, referring to the band leader. "He said it's a hit for sure."

  "I didn't write it to be a hit. I wrote it last night for someone who changed my life. I just wish he could hear it."

  "He will—when you sing it to him, right?"

  "Right," she agreed, but deep in her heart, she just didn't know if she'd get the chance. Brodie's silence today did not bode well for the future, but whatever happened she still owed him so much. If their love story was meant to be short, then so be it. She'd still be happy she'd met him and loved him. She couldn't regret that.

  "Thanks for getting me in," Brodie told Lizzie, as he glanced around the crowded party. "I hope you don't get in trouble with the birthday girl."

  "Not at all. Jessalyn said she's happy to have you here. Oh, and she said you might want to listen carefully to Chelsea's song—whatever that means."

  "Oh, I'll definitely be listening to every word," he said, eager to see Chelsea again. He'd had to rearrange his schedule and had barely made it to the airport in time to catch an earlier flight.

  "I must say, you clean up nice," Liz said with approval. "That's a great suit."

  "Luckily, I took it to LA with me. You look beautiful, too."

  "Thanks."

  "Do you know a lot of people here?"

  "Barely anyone, so I'm glad you came. I've been trying to mingle, but everyone knows each other, and it's difficult to break in. My face was starting to ache with my fake smile."

  "Well, you can relax with me, not that I think you can't mingle with the best of them. I've seen you in action."

  "That's different. That's my world. This is not. This world has always belonged to Chelsea."

  "How's she doing?"

  "I think she's a little bummed that she didn't hear from you today."

  "I had no time to call, and every time I started to text her, I didn't know what to say."

  She frowned. "Have you made any decisions?"

  "Chelsea told you what I was doing in LA?"

  "Only in a very vague way, but I know there's an opportunity that might take you away from Whisper Lake."

  "I need to talk to Chelsea about it first, if that's okay."

  "Sure," she said, but she didn't look happy about his answer.

  His attention was drawn to the stage as Jessalyn stepped up to the microphone. He'd never seen Jessalyn West in person, but she was a spectacularly beautiful superstar.

  "Thank you all for coming," she said, her gaze sweeping the crowded room. "I feel so blessed to have had all of you in my life for so many years. And I'm especially happy tonight to welcome back to the stage a true and beautiful talent, a young woman who I not only adore personally but also admire professionally. Her words, her voice, are magic. I know we've all missed her. So, I hope you will give a very warm welcome to Chelsea Cole."

  The crowd burst into applause, and Brodie clapped as loudly as he could, his heart beating a hundred miles a minute as Chelsea walked onto the stage and into the light. He hoped she would hear the support, feel the love, and not get panicked or scared. He knew her song had gone well at the school, but this was a different situation entirely. These people knew what a good voice sounded like, and he knew, as well as Chelsea probably did, that not everyone in this crowd was wishing her success, even if that's what it looked like.

  Lizzie shot him a worried look as Chelsea took a moment, her gaze perusing the crowd.

  He felt the same worried tension. Would she panic? Or would she sing?

  And then Chelsea looked down at her guitar and started to play. The band came in behind her, and a second later, she began to sing. He'd spent most of his past two flights listening to her music. Her voice had kept him company on his trip. He thought he knew all of her songs now, but this one was unfamiliar.

  The melody was pretty but haunting—her words feeling like the sun coming out from the clouds.

  Trapped in a prison of hurt, no way to flee,

  I was lost in a world of pain, until he came to me.

  His smile lit up my night.

  In his arms, in his love, I gained new sight.

  Love truly heals, but you have to let it in.

  Scary as that may be, it's the only way to be free.

  As her voice rang out with a clarity of tone and purpose, he could see that she was free, that she was herself again, and that she was singing about him.

  He felt incredibly touched, and deeply moved. She hadn't told him she loved him. He hadn't said the words, either, but he could feel her love. He just didn't know if she could feel his. He wanted to tell her how he felt right this second. He wanted to storm the stage and take her in his arms, but, of course, he couldn't do that. He couldn't take this moment away from her and make it about him.

  She'd faced her fears. She'd come out on top, and as the crowd screamed and clapped at the end of her song, she finally smiled into the lights.

  She was strikingly beautiful in her shimmering gown of gold. She was a star. He'd known that. But knowing it and seeing it were two different things.

  Jessalyn came back onto the stage, clapping until she reached Chelsea and gave her a hug. Then she took over the microphone. "Wasn't that amazing?"

  The crowd cheered again as Chelsea flushed and took it in.

  "I'm hoping this won't be the last time we hear from Chelsea," Jessalyn continued. "In fact, I'd like to say right now, in front of everyone, that if you'd care to join me on tour this fall, I'd be honored to have you."

  There were more shouts of approval from the crowd.

  As Chelsea moved toward the microphone, he found himself holding his breath.

  What would she say now? Would she accept Jessalyn's invitation? Would she leave Whisper Lake and her safe life and return to the stage, to the bright lights?

  She should say yes. She was amazing, too good to be hiding away in a small town in Colorado.

  "Thank you, Jessalyn," Chelsea said. "Thank you everyone. It meant a lot to me to sing to all of you. Jessalyn—I owe you more than I can say, but right now I will just say happy birthday, and I think it's time we hear from you."

  Chelsea walked off the stage and it was Jessalyn’s turn to sing.

  Chelsea hadn't said yes or no to Jessalyn's offer, and he found himself caught in a stranglehold of tension.

  Lizzie gave him a look of concern. "I'm sure she won't do it," she muttered.

  "She should do it. It's her life."

  "I don't think music is all she wants in her life."

  He didn't reply, because he didn't know what to say.

  "Come on," Lizzie continued. "Let's go find Chelsea."

  She led him through the crowd, past a security guard, who waved her through after seeing their passes, and down a long hallway. She knocked on a dressing room door. "Chelsea, are you decent?"

  "Come in," Chelsea replied.

  Lizzie opened the door and motioned for him to go inside.

  As he stepped into the dressing room, Chelsea turned around. Her gaze widened in surprise. "Brodie. What are you doing here?"

  He heard the door close behind him. Lizzie had left them alone.
r />   "I wanted to hear you sing," he replied. "To be here to support you."

  "I thought you wouldn't be back in time."

  "I wasn't sure I'd make it. That's why I didn't tell you." He moved forward, his heart aching at the sight of her. "You look beautiful."

  "Stage makeup," she murmured, her bright blue gaze clinging to his.

  "I've seen you without it, and you don't need it. Your song was great. It was new, wasn't it?"

  "Yes. How do you know that?"

  "I listened to your entire song list on the planes back and forth from Denver to LA." He paused, wanting to touch her, wanting to kiss her, but there was a space between them he couldn't quite breach. "Was it about us?"

  She slowly nodded. "It was about you—the way you changed my life."

  "You changed mine, too."

  She gave him an emotional smile. "What happened in LA? Are you taking the job? Are you moving?"

  He didn't want to lie. But wouldn't it be easier for her if he did? Wouldn't he just be clearing the way for her to pursue her dreams? "I think so," he said. "It's a great opportunity. Just like you have a great opportunity as well. Jessalyn wants you to tour with her. And you're too good of a singer to only sing to kids in Whisper Lake. You know that, Chelsea."

  She stared back at him. "You're saying I should go?"

  "If it's what you want."

  "And you're not going to be in Whisper Lake, so why should I stay, right?" There was an edge to her voice now.

  "You're the one who always said our parallel paths might merge, but eventually we'd veer off in opposite directions."

  "And you said our track could become one," she reminded him.

  "I don't think it can,” he said, feeling a tremendous amount of pain with his words.

  "Well, I do." She surprised him with the determination in her tone. "I don't believe you're going to LA, Brodie. I think you heard them out and then realized that your heart is in Whisper Lake, that the people in that town love you and you love them. You're a protector. That's what you do. That's who you are."

  He was shocked at how well she could read him. "I—I don't know what to say."

  "Then I'll keep talking, because you helped me find my voice. I love you, Brodie. I fell hard and fast, and I know it's real, as real as it can be. I don't want my path to veer from yours. If you really are going to LA, then you might find a stowaway in your luggage."