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Chapter Six
Emily’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat—not a good thing when she had to sing in two minutes.
Mia directed the staff to bring out dried flowers to set around the stage at the last minute. An improvement. Nash was right, strangely. The stage had been far too bare earlier. Emily needed something to hide behind. Lynch’s mansion made a glorious backdrop with its delicate marble staircases and sweeping ceilings. She felt like she was about to perform in Cinderella’s castle.
Mia went to the microphone first. “Hello, everyone! You’re in for a treat tonight. You’re the lucky few who will hear Emily Mackenzie sing live for the first time. Give her a big Nashville welcome!” Mia clapped around her long nails.
Gripping the neck of her guitar tightly, Emily came out onto the stage to polite clapping. Far more eyes watched her than hands applauding. She winced when Mia introduced her as River Mackenzie’s little sister. “Isn’t she so cute?”
Now came the comparisons. Unbidden, the online insults came flying to her mind:
Where’s her passion?
If I wanted to see something pretty, I’d get flowers.
Say what you want about her big brother’s bad behavior, at least he has depth.
She gulped and attempted a frozen smile at the blur of people before she sat down on the stool, adjusting her white lacy skirts around her knees. Setting her guitar on her lap, she began the first few chords of her song, “Fire in Nashville.”
The lyrics had come to her when she’d been driving home after a stormy shout-out fight with River—it was the first song she’d thought of when she learned she’d be performing tonight. A few big-name artists, like Ronald Chip and Loralyn Rhine, had been interested in buying it, but she could never bring herself to give away her most poignant memories for someone else to sing. So far, she’d played all the chords. That part wasn’t hard since they felt like they were a part of her fingers—she’d recited the song so often.
So far, so good, but she hadn’t sung yet.
Your voice is an instrument. Let it work for you.
Taking a deep breath, she started out softly. “We always wanted to come here. Now I want to leave—I’ll go without you if you won’t come. It’s too hot here. But… say you’ll come.”
Her voice lacked strength, but at least it was steady and clear. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep it up. Her lungs screamed for air. It was only a matter of time before she was gasping for breath.
Then she’d hear the critics complain—she sounds decent on recordings, but live? I’d think she was half dead if she wasn’t gulping for air halfway through her notes.
Her lips quirked up at her own cruelty. Was she really going to provide her own critiques now? She definitely wasn’t feeling the words, but at least she might be able to survive them if she could try to laugh at herself. Her fingers flew over the frets as she tried to get as quickly through the first verse as she could.
Did the song feel as torturous for everyone else as it did for her?
That’s when she noticed the flashing lights around the edge of the stage. A few gasps followed. Luckily, they weren’t hers since she was busy playing the rif. Fountains of sparkling fire erupted around her.
Nash! This surprise was definitely from Nash. He’d followed through on his promise.
Her heart warmed at the bright, sparkling colors. They were lovely, and they actually were perfect for her song “Fire in Nashville.”
The distraction was enough for her to forget her self-destructive thoughts for the moment, as she got lost in their beauty. Her voice felt stronger. The words came from her soul, like they always used to. Glancing up at the crowd, her eyes fastened on Nash. He was standing near the front of the stage, grinning at her like they shared a secret. Forgetting the rest of her nerves, she sang just to him.
“There’s a fire in Nashville and its burning through my heart. After your smoldering smile, I’ll never be the same.”
He made the perfect muse.
There was something about Nash that fascinated her. He had this boyish charm, though everything else about him was as manly as cattle ranchers came. He was freakishly strong with his lean, athletic build. This time she didn’t stop herself from checking out Nash’s broad shoulders. How was that wrong? It didn’t mean that she’d lose her heart to him, just because she couldn’t stop looking at him.
The bow tie was gone, and he’d unbuttoned the top buttons of his white dress shirt. He was taller than most of the men here. Everything about him made it so hard to stop her wandering eyes and tell herself how wrong he was for her, not when everything about him was so magnetizing, especially that smile… that smoldering smile… just like the words in her song. Oh no! Would everyone think she wrote this about him?
His jacket hung casually over his arm, his hands tickling the seam of his pockets, he watched her like—like River watched Liv. Her heart picked up speed.
Did he really mean it?
“I know I’ll be okay if you take us out of here!” She sang the line with more power than she ever had, and it was all due to Nash and the storm of his blue eyes. What was she thinking? She wasn’t… she was only feeling.
A scream broke through the crowd, and it seemed to catch like the plague as it spread from one side of the room to the other. Then she smelled the smoke. The fireworks had caught the dried flowers on fire. A different kind of horror than the stage fright froze her fingers against the frets of her guitar. The first vase had tipped, setting the next vase on fire and the next, like dominos.
