Page 20 of The Best Christmas Choir Ever

“The competition! It’s exactly the kind of lucky break we need.” Julian followed the link to the website, reading even more fine print. “It’s for amateur choirs only.”

“Right,” Warren said, sounding confused.

“Think about it. If we won, with that kind of money, I could actually afford to hire a music director to keep the program going while I work out additional funding.”

“Okay, yeah,” Warren said. “But here’s the first problem. Unless I’m mistaken, Glendale doesn’t have a choir.”

“The word you’re missing is yet.”

“Yet?”

The plan came together faster than Julian could explain it. He was on his feet suddenly, envisioning a stage and applause and a giant check made out to Glendale Retirement Village. “I’m gonna need Charlie’s help.”

“And what if Charlie doesn’t want to help?” Warren said. “Sounds like a lot of work, and I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but you don’t actually have any money to pay her.”

The image in Julian’s head cracked but didn’t completely shatter. Charlie could say no to his proposal, abandoning him and his great idea. It wasn’t like she didn’t already have a track record for that. But what if he could convince her?

Never mind what if. He had to convince her!

“I just won’t give her the chance to turn me down.” Even if he had to get down on his knees and beg, he’d do it. This opportunity was too important.

Warren made a face, following Julian into the hall. “Why do I feel like there’s some sort of evil mastermind plot spinning around in your head?”

“Because there might be,” Julian said with a grin. “I’ll keep you posted.”

He parted ways with Warren at the elevator, hurrying into the stairwell. When he popped out on the first floor, he could already hear the rhythmic clapping and the soaring notes that bled from the music room as the door opened and closed, admitting more residents. Julian picked up his pace.

He squeezed through the door once he reached it, inching through the crowd that had gathered at the back of the room. There were more residents than chairs, and he made a mental note to track some down if this sort of participation was going to continue. He spotted Doris in the crowd and lifted his hand in hello.

She nodded, coming to stand beside him.

“Wow,” he muttered to her as Charlie’s voice filled the room. “Like big wow.” Her voice was warm honey smoothed over the notes, rich and golden and impossibly light. She stood at the front of the room, commanding attention, and Julian felt his mouth go dry as Charlie’s magnetic energy filled the room like smoke. It seeped beneath his skin, filling his lungs, infiltrating his veins, both unsettling and electric as his very bones were drawn toward her.

Snap out of it!

“Told you she could carry a tune,” Doris said, nudging his arm, breaking whatever spell Charlie had cast over him.

“I guess I just never expected her to be this good,” Julian said. “That feels like a ridiculous thought now. I mean, Juilliard. Of course she would be this good.”

“I’ve been saying that her whole life, but it does make me feel good as a grandmother to hear other people acknowledge it.”

“You must be very proud of her,” he said.

Doris’s gaze grew distant for a moment. “Always.”

Julian quieted to really take in Charlie’s performance. He watched every movement of her hands and every twitch of her brow, captivated by the shapes of her mouth. Her presence grew as she sank into the music, letting it envelope her. This was Charlie’s world, and Julian’s heart raced as he glimpsed it.

Fate had an odd sense of humor, he thought, bringing Charlie crashing back into his life. That summer had been so long ago, and yet here she was, exactly when he needed her.

No, not when he needed her, when the residents needed her. Julian had learned better than to rely on people who’d walked out on him. His parents had shown him again and again that he wasn’t a priority, and though he’d mistakenly thought things with Charlie were different, he’d walked away knowing better than to invest in relationships he couldn’t trust.

Instead he got good at figuring things out on his own, relying on himself, trusting himself. Because carrying around the weight of heartbreak was worse than going it alone.

But listening to Charlie now, feeling the way her voice moved around him, it tangled his emotions, confusing before with now. He couldn’t afford the confusion, and the rational part of him knew that relying on Charlie was a bad call—experience had shown him that much.

But Glendale needed her, so somehow he needed to convince her to see them through this competition.

Because the residents deserved that. Her grandmother deserved that.