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“Thanks. That means a lot,” I tell her. “I miss you so much.”
“Oh, no. I know that pouty tone. You called him again, didn’t you?”
I roll my eyes. Sometimes it’s scary how well she knows me.
I sigh. “I did, but only to tell him the news. I felt like I owed a call to him since he helped me so much with my singing.”
“He’s an idiot,” Birdie mutters, and I can tell she’s scowling. “One day he’ll wake up and kick himself for being a jackass for letting you go.”
“I pushed him away, remember?” I remind her.
“True, but you also left fifty messages apologizing before I threatened you with violence if you called him again. He had ample opportunity to come back to you. It’s his own fault for showing up after five weeks of silence and seeing a man being nice to you. If he’s that much of a jackhole that he won’t even let you explain what he saw, then he doesn’t deserve you. That’s why from this point on, I’m forbidding you from ever calling him again if you don’t want me to personally fly to New York just to kick your cute little ass.”
“All right. All right.” I laugh but know she means business.
“Good, now repeat after me: I, Iris Easton.”
“Birdie . . .” I complain.
“Just do it,” she orders.
I roll my eyes, feeling really silly, but go along with her because I know she won’t drop it until I do. “I, Iris Easton.”
“Promise to never call the douche canoe ever again,” she says with an authoritative tone to her voice.
I mutter the words but don’t really mean it, because when it comes to Ace, I can’t seem to control my actions.
“Feel better?” Birdie’s voice turns cheery.
“No,” I laugh. “But do I at least get an A for effort?”
“You’re impossible,” she laughs. “Call me tomorrow and tell me all about the callback. I’m so excited.” There’s a rustling on her end of the line. “I just hugged myself and pretended I was giving you a hug for luck, even though you won’t need it. You’re going to blow them away tomorrow. I have faith.”
After she hangs up, I still find myself thinking about Ace. Birdie’s right. I have to stop begging him to give me another chance. It’s been two weeks since he was here and saw me and Shane together, so maybe it’s time to give up hope and move on. I just wish my heart would listen to my logical brain.
ACE
I haven’t left my house in nearly two weeks. Jane Ann has limited herself to only contacting me by phone or text since the last time she was here, when she told me I was a disgusting mess who needed to shower.
She’s right. I should at least shower, but I don’t even have the energy for that.
The thought of Iris being with another man guts me to the point that I can hardly go on.
She left me a message after I saw her that day. She wanted to explain herself, but I know what I saw. There was something going on between her and the suit-wearing douche bag, and I can’t call her back and listen to her lie to me, trying to convince me that there isn’t. I’m not stupid.
I would give anything to know how she’s doing—to know if she’s happy—but I’ve forced myself to stay away. She’s obviously moved on, and I can’t go on trying to get her back into my life if she doesn’t want to be here. That doesn’t stop me from still obsessing about her, though.
I grab the prepaid cell phone that I used while I was on the lam and go to my voice mail box, where I’ve saved all the messages from when Iris attempted to contact me in the past. I haven’t allowed myself to listen to them since the day I saw her, but now, thinking about her, I just need to hear her voice.
I press play and close my eyes as her voice wafts through the receiver.
When I get to the last message, I raise my eyebrows, because it’s been awhile since I played these, and it surprises me that there’s a new one from today.
I sit up and replay the message again, listening closely. “Ace, hi, it’s Iris. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I wanted to let you know that I had an amazing audition thanks to the things you taught me about performing. I got a callback, and instead of the small role I initially went after, I’m going back to read for the lead role in Forgiving Lesley. So, I just wanted to tell you thank you and that I haven’t forgotten about the money I owe you for the taxes. I’ve got some saved and would love for you to call me back and tell me where to send it.”
An overwhelming energy runs through me to speak with Iris, but I know that probably isn’t a good idea. Instead I pick up a pen and the notepad in front of me and begin working on a song that expresses every emotion that I’m feeling as I think of Iris.
In less than an hour, I stare at the lyrics before me and smile. This might just be the best damn song I’ve ever written, and I need to get into the studio to record it.
IRIS
Darcy and Jason were both over-the-moon excited for me when I first told them about the phone call from Mark Talsman after I got to work yesterday. Instead of being attentive to the restaurant patrons, we spend most of the shift last night going over my audition piece. They even went as far as making me promise that when I become a star someday that I won’t forget about them and will help them break into the business too. I laughed and told them that I would. They’re my friends. Of course I’ll help them if I have the opportunity. I just pray that today goes well and I get the part.
