I’d called Cissy earlier to let her know I was coming home for good and would be there by morning. She was thrilled, and we decided to keep it a secret so the kids would be surprised when I showed up. I’d be making chocolate chip pancakes again and enjoying their smiles. It was a comfort to my aching heart.
I sighed and shrugged, feeling the tension uncoil in my stomach. As the miles rolled on, I was farther away from him and moving closer to my future. I would do what I had always done—suck it up and keep going.
* * *
Spencer
The lights of Atlanta twinkled at me as I stood on the balcony of my condo where Melanie and I had first kissed. The memory of that moment was burned into my brain—the thrill of her acceptance, the sweetness of her returned desire. It had been a beautiful, balmy night as was tonight. But now it only mocked me with its comfort.
I wanted—no, I needed to feel thunder rumbling above. The fierce flash of lightning, a raging wind, even the golf-ball sized hail we sometimes endured would be welcome. Anything to mirror the anguish and rage I now felt in my soul. Where was a Southern summer storm when you needed one?
I wandered down the hall to the music room. I would likely write songs again, but it would never be the same. Collaborating with Melanie had been a joy. I usually wrote my songs from a place of loneliness, to soothe myself. With her, it had come from a place of love and hope. My hand strayed to the piano, touching the keys idly, striking a discordant note. Then I spotted her acoustic guitar, left behind, laying in its open case on the floor.
She no longer needed it.
That fact cut my heart anew. Losing out on the deal with Daris had been the final disappointment for her, and I couldn’t blame her. Instead of helping Melanie, I’d made things worse for her.
After my meeting with Gibson, I’d searched the party frantically for Melanie, only to find out from Sacha that she had already left for Florida. The thought of her traveling at night by herself made me worry, especially when I knew she was so upset with me. I was shocked when she actually answered my phone call, thinking she was never going to speak to me again.
“What do you want, Spencer?”
Not the friendliest tone, but she was speaking to me.
“Sacha said you left. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.”
She wasn’t, but that was beside the point.
“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you about Daris. But, he and I… We have a history. I owed him a huge favor, and he decided to call it in with this song. I argued with him, because I think you are the best person to record it. But he says no deal unless he has it his way, and I didn’t want to lose the opportunity for us entirely.”
“Hmmmm.”
I waited a few seconds in silence. She wasn’t impressed with my truth. Gibson’s words rang in my ears, so I pressed on.
“Melanie, I don’t blame you for being pissed with me. I was wrong. I should have included you, but I was trying to fix it before I had to disappoint you.”
“I could take being disappointed about the song and the record deal. It sucks to lose again. But what I am most hurt about is being disappointed by you. I trusted you with my heart, but you didn’t trust me enough to know that I could handle the truth.”
“Maybe that’s because I can’t handle the truth. About myself.”
I blew out a breath because the catch in my throat made it hard to talk. She was silent for a moment and then spoke in a softer voice, the edge of her anger gone.
“It sounds like you have some stuff to work on. So do I.”
“Agreed. But I can promise you one thing, Melanie Parker.”
“What?”
The challenge of her tone was unmistakable. But I was dead set on providing what I was about to promise.
“I promise I will not rest until I’ve done everything I can to make your dream come true. It’s too important to you. It’s too important to me.”
“Until someone shows up with a signed contract in hand, color me skeptical.”
With that, we said good night. I hoped it wasn’t truly goodbye.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Spencer
By Monday morning, I had pulled myself together. Enough, at least, to put on a suit and drag myself into work and pretend to care what was going on. Petro took one look at me and followed me into my office.
“You look like hell, boss. What happened?”
I tossed my suit jacket over a chair and sat at my desk. I was in no mood to discuss the particulars of the past weekend. I knew he meant well, so I stopped short of telling him to butt out.
“Rough weekend, you might say. And today’s not starting off well, either. I assume you got the text about the meeting?”
“I did. What is your Uncle pissed off about this time?”
“If I had to guess, it’s because I sent you to Vegas instead of going myself. I knew he was going to find out sooner or later. Probably should have told him, but I was…occupied.”
Petro glanced at his digital watch, his perfectly formed brows raising above his blue eyes. With his dark hair and smooth complexion, he could have been a model or an actor. Come to that, his acting skills had saved my ass on many occasions.
“We have five minutes before the meeting, so we better get our story straight.”
I was done with the subterfuge, finished with half-truths and secrets. That behavior had brought only more heartache and sorrow than it avoided. Gibson had been right—I needed to man up and face the consequences.
“The only story we are going to tell is the truth. I sent you in my stead because I was busy, and I was confident you would handle the situation with your usual grace and savvy.”
His eyes brightened, and he smiled.
“Really? I mean, yeah, that’s true.”
I picked up my leather portfolio in case I needed to take notes. I preceded Petro into the hall, saying over my shoulder, “Let’s go see if I’m correct.”
I heard him mutter behind me.
“Oy, the family drama in this place. Hey, we should do a reality show. It would be a hit, I bet.”
He wasn’t far off. For a billion-dollar company, it sometimes felt like a small-town mom and pop shop with all the political machinations and petty infighting going on. I was pretty sure I was done with all that too.
As I reached Uncle John’s office, an idea bloomed in my mind. It was so simple, yet so perfect, I wondered why I hadn’t thought of it before. I stopped walking, unable to move as images unfolded in my head.
“You okay, Spencer? Need something?”
Petro was staring at me, concern clouding his face. I grinned, knowing that no matter what happened in the next few minutes, I had discovered the key that would make everything right.
“No, I’m great.”
We entered Uncle John’s office and took our seats opposite the wide, glass-topped desk. John looked us over, sipping his coffee. His frown was menacing, his eyes narrowed. We were prey, and he was a hawk about to swoop in and devour us.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Have you any idea why I called you in here?”
We were silent. Petro’s eyes were wide as he looked to me for guidance. I shrugged, fluttering a pen in my hand.
“Something is on your mind, sir. Just spit it out.”
It was risky, cutting him off like that, but he hadn’t expected it. His look of surprise was worth whatever wrath I was about to receive.
His tone was lethal, as though he was holding back a week’s worth of anger.
“Okay, I will, then. I understand your assistant here went to the conference in Las Vegas instead of you. That wasn’t cleared by me. I sent you in particular, for a reason.”
Waves of apprehension were radiating from Petro as he squirmed in his chair. I, on the other hand, had never felt calmer.
“First of all, John, he has a name. Petro is more than capable of handling any task I set him to. I was otherwise occupied and could not attend, an
d you were out of town dealing with your own emergencies. I felt it best to handle it and fill you in later. Petro has already turned in his report and did a superb job of covering the conference.”
To my surprise, Uncle John smiled. A large, teeth-showing-under-the-moustache smile.
“Precisely. In fact, if I were you, Spence, I’d watch my back.”
Petro’s confused look almost made me laugh. If I hadn’t been so confused myself, I would have. John chuckled at our stunned expressions and continued explaining.
“I received a call from Mr. Stevens, the gentleman you met with. He was quite impressed with your knowledge and presentation of how we would utilize his software. He’s made an offer, and it’s worth considering.”
Petro smiled, relief evident in the set of his shoulders. He had told me the meeting went well, but I had thought he was being his enthusiastic self.
“That’s great, Petro. I knew you would handle it well.”
“Thanks. But I also spoke with two other software reps, so you may want to reach out to them as well. Maybe get a bidding war going.”
John beamed and then winked at me.
“I like the way this kid thinks. Let’s do that.”
We spent the next half hour discussing a strategy and other topics that had been covered at the conference. But my mind had been distracted by the idea that had taken hold earlier. I couldn’t wait to make some phone calls and set this thing in motion.
Not an hour had gone by when I didn’t think of her. No woman had ever gotten under my skin or touched my heart like Melanie Parker. My calls and texts to her had gone unanswered, but I wasn’t giving up until I could prove I was the man she’d believed I could be.
* * *
Melanie
Three weeks had passed since I arrived home. We had settled into a routine, although my niece and nephews weren’t thrilled when they realized Auntie Mel wasn’t here just to play with them. They quickly learned that I meant business when I asked them to put away their things or help out with chores.
But we had fun too. We played board games, went for walks, and I even took them to the local pool for a swim day. School was about to start, and I took them shopping at the local department store for supplies.
It took what little money I had left, but the smiles on their faces were worth it.
Cissy had been able to work more hours with me there, which helped her tackle some overdue bills. In all, the situation wasn’t ideal, but it was working out.
I’d spent some time making phone calls and doing research on Mamma’s condition and what could be done for her. She was still too young to qualify or Medicare and had no insurance. I’d been able to identify some assistance programs, but it was painstakingly slow to gather all the information and contact the right people. Once the kids were in school, I’d have more time to devote to the task. When I could, I spent time reading to Mamma and singing her favorite songs. She seemed to enjoy that and even had some lucid moments.
One afternoon, she had been chatty, telling me stories of when I was young. I’d play in my room, making up songs and dressing in home-made costumes. Once, I even performed a song I wrote, at four years old, using our plastic bathroom shower curtain as my own theater curtain.
“You made me sit on the toilet lid and watch your performance. You hid behind the curtain and threw it open.” She mimicked my baby voice and cried, “Melanie’s Extravaganza!”
We laughed. How I even knew the word “extravaganza” at that age was a mystery. At least Mamma was recalling happy memories. Her frequent confusion and frustration were hard to bear, so moments like these helped.
Late at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I re-read all the text messages from Spencer. I looked at all the photos and videos we’d taken of us performing our song. At some point, I’d be receiving royalties for co-writing it, but who knew how long that would take? I’d made peace with the fact Quira was recording it, and I wished her well. If it was a hit, everyone would benefit.
I’d also come to terms with the fact my career in music was over. I’d been in such a hurry to leave that night after the party, I’d left my guitar at Spencer’s place. It was just as well. I had no time to play nor the desire. What would be the point?
Mackie and Donna had called a few times to check on me. It was great to hear from them, but it made me miss the old days even more. I promised to come for a visit but had no idea when that might be.
My focus now had to be on my family’s survival. Pining after a career that had died, a lifestyle that was over, and a love that was lost were futile pursuits. I hadn’t returned Spencer’s calls or texts, and it seemed he’d finally given up. It was easier to let him go this way. Talking to him might make me miss him more, and that was something I just couldn’t handle.
Perhaps a year from now, I’d be in a better place mentally, emotionally, and financially. As time went by, my love for Spencer would fade, and this ache in my heart would subside. I hoped.
Until then, I was taking things one day at time.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Spencer
In retrospect, the yellow Corvette wasn’t the best vehicle for a road trip. It was going to need a serious detailing when I got back home. But presentation was everything, and I knew the impact this vehicle would have, the memories it would invoke.
The GPS app on my phone announced my destination was less than a mile away. My heart leapt into overdrive. Was I crazy? It certainly felt that way. Driving from Atlanta to the middle of Florida unannounced was taking a huge risk.
I glanced at the orange-yellow envelope on the passenger seat. It contained what I hoped was the golden ticket, the one item that would make Melanie Parker forgive me for all of my sins. My plan was so perfect, and all the components had fallen into place, that she would have to agree.
At least, I hoped so. Everyone else involved was enthusiastically on board. Now all we needed was the star of the show.
I turned into the Freesville Mobile Home Park and my GPS announced my arrival. I parked on the side, out of the way, and began walking toward the trailer where Melanie and her family lived. Sacha had been kind enough to give me the address, once I explained what I was doing. She had been sworn to secrecy first about my plan, as had everyone else who knew.
My mouth went dry as I ascended the wooden steps of the tiny porch. Windchimes tinkled in the breeze, and a dog barked somewhere. It was close to noon, and the sound of a television wafted through the screen door. I rapped on the metal door frame and waited.
“Just a minute.”
The familiar voice caused my heart to flutter, and I took a breath. This was going to work. I knew it in my bones. I’d spent the last three weeks working on this non-stop, which was record time for this type of deal to come together.
She appeared at the door, staring at me through the screen with an open mouth. Her dark eyes snapped open as well, and she emerged onto the tiny porch. We stood face to face, and time stood still.
“Hey. Surprise!”
“What are you doing here?”
Her voice was flat, not at all the warm welcome I’d been hoping for. I leaned against the redwood railing, not caring if the dust and peeling paint soiled my shirt sleeve. I noticed a flush on her cheeks and figured I’d better get to the point.
It was then I saw a young woman and three children staring at me through the screen door behind Melanie.
“Hello. I’m Spencer.”
I waved, and they waved back. Melanie’s expression turned to annoyance, and she quickly introduced them.
“My sister, Cissy, and her kids. Now, what’s this about? You didn’t tell me you were coming. How’d you even find me?”
“I have some great news for you. I had to tell you in person. Besides, you wouldn’t return my calls or texts.”
That still hurt, and I couldn’t keep the edge from my voice. She frowned, still looking beautiful.
“I wanted to, but… It was better we didn’t have contact.�
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“Fair enough. I know I’ve handled things badly in the past, and I have apologized. But maybe this will show you how serious I am about doing the right thing.”
I handed her the envelope. She glanced at me, a skeptical look, but she began to unfasten the tiny metal latch. Her sister and the children had moved closer, craning their necks to look over her shoulder.
She read the document, her brow furrowing. Then she looked at me, her eyes wide.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, ma’am. If you think it’s a signed contract from the producer of a new reality show that is bound to be a huge hit, then yes. You are correct.”
She glanced to the last page, looking at the signatures.
“You partnered with Mr. Franco? The guy Daris introduced us to?”
“I did. It’s a reality show about second chances—specifically for bands that have been trying to make it but never realized success. The first four episodes are about each band, and then the competition begins. Think of it as one of those musical talent shows, but for bands. The winner gets a huge gig at a well-known venue and a recording contract with a major label. Not to mention, national exposure.”
The gaping of her mouth was so cute. I had never seen her at a loss for words and never thought I would. But here we were.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes. Your band is already on board.”
“You spoke to Mackie and the gang about this?”
“I did. Everyone involved is very excited about it. All we need is you. Sparker will be in the first episode, of course.”
Her stunned expression gave way to a huge smile. She glanced over her shoulder at her sister, who nodded vigorously. She looked back at me, still hesitant.
Not So Wrong: Love Grows series, Book Two Page 21