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Who wasn’t here?
“Before their untimely death,” Mitzi explained, “Leighton and Trey wanted to start a musical program teaching neurodivergent children how to read, write, and play music. We’ve worked out a deal for it to be housed in the New Beats building. We’ll also have an outreach program to teach local music instructors how to work with neurodivergent learners, using many techniques and strategies you taught on your Bonbon Barbie channel.”
“Oh,” she answered, dumbstruck—no, freaking gobsmacked.
“C’est magnifique, no?” Michel sang. “You have a talented husband, Harper Barbara. We can’t wait to welcome him as a new member of the New Beats staff. And Barbara, it’s been so nice having you stay with me. We’ve been having such fun with our orchestra friends.”
She stared at her grandmother. “You’ve been staying at Mishy’s house?”
Babs shrugged. “Yes, I returned three days ago with Landon and Aria.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me you were in town,” she fired back.
“We’ve been busy,” Mishy answered. “Your husband is quite a driven man and very passionate about making music accessible to everyone. His personal story is quite inspiring.”
His personal story?
She walked toward the back entrance and took in the enormous boulders framing the packed outdoor seating area. “How did Landon do this in a matter of days?”
“With a lot of help,” her grandmother answered.
The announcer’s voice rang out. “Let’s welcome Vance Vibe to the stage.”
“That’s our cue,” Lizzie Luxe said to her husband and Mitzi.
Warren Luxe grinned. “Come on, music teacher, you don’t want to miss this.”
She and her grandmother walked behind the trio as they headed toward the backstage area.
“Babs,” she said, lowering her voice, “why is Vance here? Landon despises the guy.”
“I believe it’s part of your husband’s response to the double-dog dare.”
That didn’t make any sense.
She and Babs stood off to the side as Vance took to the stage with a guitar in his hand. “I’d like to start with a fan favorite. This is the acoustic version of ‘Every Time You Break My Heart,’” he crowed into the microphone, but no one in the crowd seemed to be looking at him. A rumble of murmuring broke out as everyone stared at the jumbo screen situated off to the side on the stage.
She couldn’t see what it was, but it had to be something worth gawking at. People pointed and gasped. She hurried toward the seating area and looked up to find a picture of her and Vance plastered across the jumbo screen. Her stomach dropped. She recognized the image. It was the photo Aria had plucked from the pile of mortification.
Vance craned his neck to see what everyone was looking at and inadvertently caught her eye. He frowned, then glanced at the screen and turned a ghostly shade of white.
“That’s nothing. It’s just an old picture. I used to know Harper Presley years ago—a lifetime ago,” he stammered into the microphone, when the photo disappeared from the screen, and a video took its place.
A video she didn’t recognize.
She watched herself on the screen as she composed “Every Time You Break My Heart.”
“There’s proof,” she whispered.
And it had come from the old camcorder.
There was only one person who could have found it—one person who’d been playing her old videos and listening to her sing about stuff sucking.
And that person was her niece.
Her heart jumped into her throat as Mr. Luxe and his wife stepped onto the stage. “I’m Warren Luxe. My wife and I are the owners of Luxe Media and Entertainment. Vance Vibe, we must stop you from performing that song.”
“It appears you stole it from another artist we represent,” Mrs. Luxe added.
