“I can’t imagine what it’s like to find out people were tampering with your life and profession.” Summer sat and smoothed her pink sundress on her lap. It wasn’t loose enough to hide her rounded belly. She was due in September. I’d be starting my tour around then, but I’d tell my new manager to ensure the first show was well after Summer’s due date. “I’m glad you found out about it. Lucy would’ve kept setting up emotional wringers for you until you burned out.”
Burnout. Was that what I was feeling? The heavy weight of responsibility. The pressure of producing. I had a team counting on me. If I didn’t ride the high of falling for someone and then crashing to the ground,would I be able to write quality material? I had a band who worked with me. A record label. A manager. An agent. Promoters. I wasn’t the only artist these people worked with, but as I’d risen in fame, and my revenue with it, I’d become a cornerstone to their individual careers.
I had thought that was why I’d stalled out on inspiration, that the pressure had gotten to me. I had almost accomplished my dream, but everything hinged on my next album not flopping. In the end, it had been the serial betrayals.
“Overhearing that conversation answered a lot of questions.” I took a drink and let the bourbon warm my tongue and throat. Hints of caramel and vanilla danced on my taste buds and the comfort of home sank into my bones.
I needed the reset.
“So now what?” Wynter asked. “You’re just going to write and let your lawyer deal with Lucy?”
“That’s the plan.” Lucy had quit blowing up my phone. “I guess I have to find a new manager. I have some contacts.”
“Give yourself time,” Mama said. “Everything’s in motion. You don’t have to rush. The other parts of your team are doing their job, so you can do yours.”
“Thanks, Mama.” Her calm, matter-of-fact tone alleviated the building stress from thinking about Lucy and hiring a replacement. I folded my legs under me and tugged the hem of my shorts down. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you and Mama Starr.”
My sisters’ expressions softened. Scarlett’s face filled with sympathy. Mama nodded, always encouraging us to talk about our other parents.
“I remember how you used to sing for us.” Wynter ran her finger over the ring of her glass.
Summer nodded. “Daddy Bjorn would always ask you to sing when we’d start asking when we could go home.”
We’d no longer had a home. “I was a full-on adult before I realized they used me to distract us from being homeless and packing all our things in that cramped car.”
“It worked too because I got jealous from all the attention,” Wynter said, giggling. “I used to get so mad.”
“And then I would get upset because no one wanted to run through times tables with me.” Autumn chortled. “Us two middle kids used to argue so much because we always felt overlooked.”
Summer laughed. “I sometimes wondered if the way we dissolved into bickering was half the distraction.”
“I wasn’t mad when you sang that night,” Wynter said. The room fell quiet.
The night of our parents’ crash, an eternity had come and gone before help arrived. I’d performed for my parents and sisters countless times, but that was the first time I’d felt like we’dconnectedbecause of my music.
“Speaking of musical kids,” I said to lighten the mood, “I’m going to give Rhys’s girls guitar lessons.”
They all stared at me.
Except Scarlett, who looked at everyone like she was interpreting their reactions. Her glass of bourbon was mostly full. She wasn’t as avid a bourbon lover as us. “I know I wasn’t here then, but Rhys Kinkade is your ex, right? It’s all good?”
My sisters studied me. Mama took a drink, her expression neutral. She liked Rhys, and she adored his girls. She’d never tell me; I just knew. That was whoMama was. And she’d never let me know if the news of guitar lessons made her happy or worried.
To everyone, including her, I’d left and shattered Rhys’s heart. No one knew that I hadn’t left him behind. He’d never planned to leave Bourbon Canyon.
“It’s fine. He’s had a whole other life since we were kids. And he never told them about me.”
“What?” Summer frowned.
“They were surprised to find out we were friends,” I said. Were Rhys and I friends? We’d have to be for the sake of the girls. “He never even told them we knew each other.”
“Seriously?” Wynter’s eyes were wide. “How did they not know? You two were together longer than he was married.”
Did that thought make me feel better or worse? “I can’t imagine people care to tell kids about a woman who’s not their mom and her history with their dad.”
“True, but you’re not a normal case,” Autumn said. “I’m surprised other kids haven’t brought it up.”
“They will.” Scarlett could seem timid, but she knew elementary-aged children. “They’re getting to the age where they’ll hear about it once another kid, or that kid’s parents, piece things together. Not every parent is going to care that it might step over bounds with the girls’ mother.”
