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I pat her shoulder but don’t say anything. It’s my fault Taylor left early for her music festival, which is typical although it’s for a different reason than usual. Normally she bails because I’m being a psycho bitch. This time she bailed because I apologized and shifted her world on its axis.
The guilt pokes at me, and I let it. Now at least I can recognize it for what it is: shame at my own behavior and poor choices. I can’t change the past, but I can do my best to be better now. I accept the guilt and then push it to the side.
“She’ll come back,” I tell Finley.
She nods, distracted, and peers down at the list of students on her clipboard.
Luke and I plan on heading back to the city next week. We’re going to stay at Oliver’s until Christmas while Luke does some interviews and a few small performances I’ve set up. He needs to practice before the tour. His stage fright, while better, isn’t completely gone. It probably won’t ever be.
Then next month, we’ll be on the road for a bit and things will change.
My stomach twists.
Change is inevitable. He’ll go on tour, and I’ll accompany him for as much of it as I can, but I also need to grow the roster for Outfoxed Records, and that will take up much of my time. If Luke’s album and tour do well, I may get enough capital to hire someone to help me, but that’s a big if.
Our little bubble of . . . whatever we are is about to be exposed to the rest of the world, and I am already anticipating the pop.
Duncan hasn’t committed to signing with Outfoxed Records, but he hasn’t turned me down yet, either. He has another label he wants to talk to, and he’s been very honest at least. I can’t imagine he’ll sign with me since I’m sure the competition will offer more than I can currently. I can only wait and see.
It helps that there haven’t been any more articles, social media posts, or comments from Blake and Jeanette since that last interview. I can only hope he forgets my name and everything related to me forever and ever, but those are weak hopes.
Over the past week, I’ve talked to a few other artists on the phone, none as well known or as established as Duncan but definite up-and-comers with a lot of talent. So far there is one I definitely want to sign—a young lady from Tennessee. The others are question marks, but since word of Luke’s talent has been bubbling, I’ve received more and more inquiries through the basic website I set up.
Luke has been busy working on some secret song he’s refused to share in spite of my numerous attempts to wheedle it out of him. I smile, remembering the way I tortured him last night, first with my fingers and then with my mouth and tongue and—
“They’re here!” Finley grips my arm, squeezing so tight she nearly cuts off my circulation.
The bus ambles up the driveway, brakes hissing as it comes to a stop.
Finley jogs over to the doors at the front, and I follow her at a slower pace.
Figures inside the bus are on the move, shrugging on backpacks, jumping around, little faces peering out the windows creased in curiosity and excitement.
The door whooshes open and noisy children tumble out along with one of the counselors, who is attempting to talk over the bustle and telling the kids to line up outside.
Finley steps into action, greeting each person as they come off the bus and facilitating the lineup in order to do a head count.
I can’t help but grin as I watch her. She absolutely does not need me here. I’m more of an emotional support sibling.
Behind the bus, a black sedan pulls up, the windows so darkly tinted it’s impossible to make out the driver.
I point it out. “Who is that?” I ask Finley. “One of the instructors?”
She glances over at it, shaking her head. “No. They’re all on the bus with the kids.”
She motions to one of the instructors, a tall, bearded man in his twenties. “Do you know who that is?”
He frowns at the car and then shrugs. “No one I know.”
“I’ll go check it out,” I reassure her. I’m halfway to the vehicle when the driver’s door opens and Blake steps out.
Oh, shit.
I glance behind me. The bus is nearly empty, about thirty tweens lined up alongside it. The few nearest me gasp, nudging the person next to them. The motion is like a wave down the line as they all come to the jarring realization that one of the biggest rock stars on the planet has just arrived.
Damn it, Blake.
What the hell is he thinking? He isn’t. He’s lost his damn mind.
