I stand up, smoothing my blouse, and walk to the front where the TV displays the song selection. My fingers tremble slightly as I navigate through the options. I need something powerful, something that will let me channel all this pent-up energy.
Adele. "Rolling in the Deep." This was the go-to song when I came to visit my best friend, Anna. And it’s perfect for removing this sense of bliss, happiness and longing for him.
The opening beats fill the room, and I take a deep breath. This isn't about impressing anyone—it's about creating space between me and William before I do something stupid like kiss him in front of my team.
The first verse comes up on the screen. I close my eyes and just let go.
I sing, putting everything into it. All the frustration of keeping away from William, all the pressure of leading the team, all the fear of Dominic's threats—I pour it all into the lyrics.
A choked sound comes from behind me, but it fades quickly. Must be someone getting emotional from my heartfelt performance. I don't turn around; I don't want to see William right now. This song is perfect for a mental reset, a reminder that we can't just fall back into each other's arms.
The chorus approaches, and I give it my all. My voice rises, probably hitting notes the singer never intended.
Something flickers at the edge of my vision. EJ has gotten up and grabbed the pen lights from the table, waving them slowly to create a moody concert atmosphere.Sweet kid.
Encouraged, I spin around for the final chorus, expecting to see impressed faces.
Instead, I find chaos.
Blake has tears streaming down his face, one hand pressed to his mouth, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. William is doubled over, hands covering his face, his entire body convulsing. When he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed, wet streaks painting his cheeks.
"What?" I ask, lowering the microphone. "Was the performance that good—"
William throws his head back, a booming laugh erupting from deep in his chest. It's so powerful, so uninhibited, that it seems to shake the small room. Blake makes a strangled sound and rushes for the door, mumbling something about needing the bathroom before he wets himself.
EJ stands awkwardly to the side, lips pressed together so hard, they're turning white, a strange grimace on his face as he tries not to laugh.
"What's happening right now?" I demand, heat flooding my cheeks.
William struggles to catch his breath. "Violet—" He wheezes, wiping his eyes. "I thought—" Another fit of laughter claims him. "I thought we were going to need medical assistance when you hit those high notes."
"Excuse me?"
"It sounded like—" He mimics a sound somewhere between a drowning cat, and a rusty hinge. "And then you did this thing with your face—" He scrunches his features into an expression of constipated concentration.
EJ bites his lip, clearly trying not to laugh.
"It's okay, EJ," I say, my voice painfully dignified. "You can laugh, too."
"I wouldn't—" he starts, but then William makes a strangled noise and says, "I think my eardrums are filing for divorce," and EJ loses it completely, collapsing onto the floor in a fit of laughter.
"Yes, very funny," I say, crossing my arms. "I'm aware I'm not a professional singer."
"Professional?" William wipes his eyes, still chuckling. "Violet, cats in heat have better pitch."
"I sang from the heart," I say primly.
"Your heart might need a tune-up then," he counters, setting EJ off again.
The embarrassment hits me like a heatwave, hot and overwhelming. "So I can't sing. Great. Glad we've established that."
William's laughter softens, though his eyes still sparkle with mirth. "No, you cannot. Not even a little bit."
"It was... enthusiastic," EJ offers weakly.
The door opens and Blake returns, takes one look at me, and starts laughing all over again. "Just like your father," he wheezes. "Exactly like Frederick. He thought he was Frank Sinatra."
"Yeah, really funny. I know, I suck. Can you guys stop laughing?" I try to sound stern, but it's difficult when they're all so genuinely amused.
