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“Of course not,” Mia said calmly, while her heart thundered.
“Then why did you tell the media that Ivy didn’t write any of her songs?”
“I didn’t.” Mia was besieged by panic. Such a disclosure would devastate Ivy. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Sure you would,” Riley said.
Skylar nodded. “You resent her.”
“I don’t.” But she could hear the lie in her voice.
She did resent Ivy, but not for the reasons these two thought. Mia didn’t care that Ivy had been gifted with all the looks and talent. Up until the last few years, when Ivy had started behaving more and more like a diva, Mia had been happy to be her assistant and do whatever she could to bolster her twin’s career.
“Sure you do.” Riley exchanged a look with Skylar. “You have a thing for Nate.”
“We all noticed.”
“But he doesn’t know you’re alive. He wants Ivy. So you decided to discredit her by lying to the media and saying you’re the one who writes her music.”
It was on the tip of Mia’s tongue to argue that she did write all Ivy’s music, but too many years of living with that secret kept her silent now. “I need to talk to Ivy.”
Mia started toward Ivy’s bedroom, but Riley stepped in her way.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Irritation flooded Mia, loosening her tongue. “If you want to talk about people who sponge off my sister, look in the mirror.” Imbued with strength she didn’t know she possessed, Mia pushed past Riley and headed toward her sister’s bedroom. She had to explain.
Ivy was standing by the open sliding glass door that led onto the pool deck, Mia’s song journal in her hand. Mia stopped halfway into the room as Ivy turned her tear-streaked face in her direction.
“I didn’t tell anyone about the songwriting,” Mia said, her voice clogged with emotion. “I swear.”
“Not even Nate?”
“He figured it out all on his own.” Mia advanced toward her sister, but Ivy went outside, maintaining ten feet between them.
“You’re such a liar.” Ivy held out the notebook. “I read this. It’s all about him.”
Mia’s song journal was more than just a place for her to jot down music and lyrics. She also used it as a diary, and although she’d never used Nate’s name, many of the entries had described incidents that made it pretty clear who she was talking about.
“I’ll bet you couldn’t wait to tell him,” Ivy continued. “You probably thought he’d be into you if he thought you were a songwriter.”
“I swear I didn’t tell him.” But in her heart, she knew she’d wanted him to figure it out. And maybe she’d helped that along. “It was just that I wrote songs with Melody on the tour and you never showed any signs that you wrote, too. He got suspicious.”
“What other bad things have you been telling Nate about me?”
“I haven’t said anything.”
Ivy gave a bitter laugh. “I see the way you moon over him. He’s never going to be interested in you.”
“Why do you care how I feel about Nate?”
“I don’t.” But it was obvious that she was bothered. “I just hate to see you make a fool of yourself over someone who is so out of your league.”
“Nate doesn’t see himself that way.” The instant the words were past her lips, Mia wished them back.
“He should.”
Without warning, Ivy launched Mia’s song journal through the air in the direction of the pool. Mia watched in horror as hundreds of hours’ worth of angst and love hit the water with a splat and began to sink.
