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“No, you don’t have to do that,” I protested weakly. He did have a nice voice, and I couldn’t help wondering what he’d sing.
“What’s your name?” Louis asked.
“Harper,” I said.
Before I could argue again, he made his way over to the karaoke machine, grabbed the microphone, and said, “This one’s for a fire-haired beauty named Harper.”
I didn’t think my cheeks could get any redder.
“We were young and reckless . . .” He sang my cousin Morgan Sparks’s song “Redemption,” and I stared at him in astonishment. His voice was low and husky, and it meshed with her music perfectly. As he sang, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter in my chest. He sang directly to me. I didn’t think anyone had ever done that before.
But when the duet part came up, I found myself stepping toward the stage.
2
Louis
Istumbled as I started the duet. I’d forgotten that this song had that part, but a clear, light voice joined mine and I looked up to see Harper striding toward me. She was beautiful in that tight-fitting black dress, her red hair falling to her shoulders. When I’d snuck out on the town tonight, I’d never expected to meet someone so intriguing.
Handing her a microphone as she reached the stage, I kept going. I didn’t even need to glance at the monitor because I knew the words by heart. I loved singing, and it was definitely on the list of not dignified enough activities for a prince of Valtoria. Even if our country was so tiny that it was barely a speck on the map, my parents would tolerate nothing less than perfect behavior.
Harper turned to face me, singing the chorus, “We can’t change the past, but we can change our fate, love, and forgiveness, it’s never too late.”
I matched her note for note. Her voice wasn’t perfect but it was filled with joy. She obviously loved the music as much as I did. When the song ended we stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes for a quiet moment. I had never felt so instantly connected to another human being.
Then the crowd erupted into applause. Harper and I laughed and took our bows. She was so beautiful. Her dress showcased her curves. Her long red hair fell down her back, contrasting with her pale, freckled skin.
“So, what do you think? Am I forgiven?” I asked, leaning closer to her. She smelled faintly like vanilla, even with the spilled alcohol on her dress.
“I suppose I can let it slide this time,” she murmured.
As we stepped down from the stage, I took her hand in mine. It just felt right, but she froze.
I went to pull away. “Am I being too forward?”
“No,” she said faintly, squeezing my fingers and continuing toward the bar.
Sliding onto a stool, I gestured for her to join me.
Harper shook her head. “I have to work.”
“Take fifteen,” the bartender said, looking at Harper pointedly. “I’ll cover you.”
She opened her mouth to argue but then shut it again. Then she slid onto the barstool and rested her gaze on me.
I suddenly found myself tongue-tied. What should I say to this exquisite creature? “So you like Morgan Sparks’s music too?”
The bartender pushed two drinks toward us. He seemed to know exactly what I’d been drinking, and what she would like—a white Russian. I’d have to remember that. If we ever saw each other again, I’d like to remember what she enjoyed.
She stirred her drink, and then said, “I know all of Morgan’s songs. She’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine too,” I said. “Have you ever been to one of her concerts? I was hoping to while I’m in New York but I don’t know if I’ll have time.”
“She’s my cousin.” She nodded, her cheeks turning red again. “I used to go a lot more, but I’ve been busy lately.”
“Really?” I said in awe. “That’s amazing.” Then I wanted to kick myself for sounding too eager. It was so nice to talk to someone who enjoyed music as much as I did. “I bet you get to go backstage any time you want.”
“Yeah, she usually sends me passes when she’s in town.” Harper bit her lip and looked away.
