It was a little after ten when her rental car rolled up in front of the mansion. Kevin had called ahead of time, so she knew Miss Adelia was expecting her. That didn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach as she approached the house. No matter how many times she visited, it was always the same.
Ivy rang the doorbell, waiting patiently for Winston to come to the door. She was practicing her smile when the door flew open and none other than Lydia was standing there instead. She looked like the cat that ate the canary, opening the door to the Chamberlain mansion like she lived there.
Ivy tried to recover quickly and not give Lydia the satisfaction of throwing her off her game. “Moonlighting as a butler now?” she asked.
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Please. I have servants, I’m not one of them.”
“Could’ve fooled me. Why are you answering the door, if you’re not being paid to?”
“Winston is assisting Granny upstairs, so I stepped in to help. Maddie and I came over for brunch. We’re taking Hazel shopping this afternoon in Birmingham.”
It grated her soul the way Lydia called Miss Adelia “Granny.” That was probably why she did it. “Will Hazel be back in time for the concert? She told Blake she was really excited to come.”
“Yes,” Lydia said. “I couldn’t care less about the concert, of course, but I’m meeting someone tonight during the show. He’s been all tied up with a . . . special project . . . this week, and the concert is our first chance to be alone together. Of course, you know all about that.”
Ivy stiffened and tried to nod as though she was barely listening. “That’s nice. I’m here to see Miss Adelia.”
“I know,” Lydia said, stepping out of the doorway to let her inside. “She said for you to wait for her in the library. I’ll show you where it is.”
“I know where it is,” Ivy said, cutting her off. “Thanks.” She turned and marched in the direction of the library, hoping Lydia would disappear to some far-off corner of the house until she was gone.
Ivy plopped down into a wingback chair and frowned. As usual, Lydia had a way of getting to her. She’d just implied that she and Blake would be hooking up while Ivy was onstage. That was ridiculous. Blake had told her that he was going to watch from backstage with Kevin. Someone would notice if he was making out with Lydia while he was there.
She took a deep breath and tried to push the aggravation from her lungs. Lydia and Blake were not together. There wasn’t a secret conspiracy to use her for publicity. She and Blake were together. Really together, now. She was hours away from getting onstage and telling Blake she loved him. Blake’s feelings for Ivy were a mystery, but he’d been extremely clear about how he felt about Lydia.
She couldn’t let Lydia get to her. She had a show to do tonight and she needed to focus on her music, not on what Blake might or might not be doing while she was onstage.
“Ivy,” Miss Adelia said as she came into the room with Winston in tow. “It’s good of you to wait. I had to get Winston to help me get the jacket out of the attic.”
“It’s not a problem,” Ivy said, standing to greet her. “Lydia let me in.”
Miss Adelia narrowed her eyes at Ivy for a moment, then gestured for Winston to give her the coat and let them speak privately. “That was thoughtful of her,” she said cautiously. “I thought Hazel might answer, since she actually lives here. Of course, Lydia has been to the house so often, it’s almost as if she does. Sometimes I think she’s eyeing the décor as though she’s planning how she’ll change it.”
“I don’t know why she would change a thing. It’s a lovely home.” Ivy tried to shrug off the awkward encounter with Lydia. “I see you found the jacket,” she said.
“Yes. It might smell a touch like cedar and mothballs, but it’s in good shape.” Adelia rounded her desk and laid the jacket across the blotter.
It was Blake’s letterman jacket from high school. Ivy didn’t know how many times she’d worn that coat while they were together. She was always cold at school. She reached out and ran her arms over the red fabric and white leather. The name Chamberlain was stitched across the shoulders in white with the school’s panther logo beneath it.
“Kevin thought I should wear this jacket for the finale. I’m debuting a new song.”
“Is it about Blake?” Miss Adelia asked with a sly smile.
“Yes, but it’s a nice song this time.”
Miss Adelia smiled and patted the jacket. “You’re welcome to use it. And give it to Blake when you’re done. I certainly don’t need it here. It seems like all the children leave their junk behind when they go. Oh,” she added, picking up a smaller, fabric-covered box on the edge of her desk. “Here are some photos, too. Kevin asked if I had any they could use in the show.”
Ivy draped the jacket over her arm and picked up the box of pictures. “Will you be at the show tonight?”
“Heavens, no. I’m sure it will be lovely, but that’s just not my cup of tea.” She placed her hand on Ivy’s shoulder and smiled. “I hope everything goes well tonight. I think bringing you and Blake together for the fund-raiser was a stroke of genius on my part.”
Ivy smiled and nodded, although it seemed an odd thing to specifically mention bringing them together for the fund-raiser itself. Not that she was pleased she had reunited them. Or that she was happy they were dating. It took her a moment to figure out why it bothered her—Lydia’s taunt at the dance about how Miss Adelia had fixed them up for the fund-raiser to earn more money. She had called and personally requested Ivy, so that, at least, was true. Whether she was forcing Blake to be with Ivy while he secretly dated Lydia was another matter.
Damn Lydia for being able to get her wound up about nothing.
Miss Adelia looked down at a large open envelope on her desk and placed her hand on top of it. “You remember the chat we had over tea, don’t you, Ivy?”
“Of course.” How could she forget? It had been an eye-opening discussion.
“Then you remember what I said about not letting anyone interfere with what you want.” Her sharp gaze looked meaningfully into Ivy’s.
“Yes, ma’am.” And she was right. She couldn’t let Lydia manipulate her and ruin what she had with Blake. She wouldn’t.
“Good. Now, I am very confident that things are going to go well this evening and I don’t anticipate any more problems for you and Blake. But if anything were to happen tonight, you feel free to tell me, please. I will handle it. Sometimes ladies like us need help, but we’re too stubborn to ask for it.”
Ivy looked down at the desk and the envelope Miss Adelia was idly tapping with her fingernails. What was she alluding to? And what did that envelope have to do with it? “Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent. I’m sure you need to be on your way, then.” Miss Adelia walked her to the front door and waved at Ivy as she got into her car. “Good luck tonight.”
Ivy smiled and waved back, but as she drove the long, winding road back into town, she couldn’t shake the ominous thought that she might need it.
Blake might very well be the luckiest guy on the planet. From the edge of the stage, he could see out into the sea of people who had swarmed into Rosewood for this concert. He had no doubt the school would have a state-of-the-art gym and athletic facility in no time.
But even if he taught in a mud hut, he’d still be blessed because the woman out on that stage—the one who drew thousands of cheering fans—was all his.
Last night, she’d left the game with him. The Buckmans had opened up Scoops so the whole team could have an after-hours ice cream party. She’d mingled with the players like a pro, laughing, praising them, and tapping their egos down if they got a little too big. His team was a part of his family, and he was grateful that Ivy seemed to fit in so seamlessly as well.
Now he watched her perform onstage with a sense of awe. The crowd sang along with every song. She was beautiful, talented, fu
nny, smart . . . Not everything in his life had gone to plan, but if he had anything to say about it, he would have Ivy by his side for a very long time.
The distance would suck, but it would be inevitable at first. Once she got her album done, perhaps she could spend time in Rosewood, jetting back and forth for promotional events. And maybe during the spring and early summer, when football took a backseat until training camp, he could spend time in California. Or New York. Or Dubai—hell, he didn’t care.
It was like he was riding high on a wave of adrenaline every time he was near her. Touching her was like scoring the game-winning touchdown in overtime. He couldn’t wait for the show to end. He knew exactly what he was going to do. The minute she stepped offstage, he was going to scoop her into his arms and kiss the daylights out of her, just like she’d done to him after the game.
And once all her obligations for the night were done, he was taking her back to his place for a private concert.
There were some things he wanted to say to her before she left. Important things. Private things. Like how he felt about her, despite how crazy it might be. About how he would consider finding a coaching job in California next year if that meant being closer to her.
“Coach?”
Blake turned to find one of his football players, Rex Campbell, standing behind him. The town had enlisted the help of some of the seniors for the event tonight. “Hey, Campbell. Whatcha need?”
“The ladies at the press booth said there’s a journalist who would like to speak with you about the football team and the rebuilding plans. They said he’s a friend with a football scout for LSU that might be interested in coming up to watch us play.”
Blake was surprised. He’d done his share of interviews already this week. Why a reporter would come to the concert right now and want to talk to him, not Ivy, was beyond him. The concert was almost finished. She had two, maybe three songs left. He hated to go this close to the end. “Right now?”
“Right now,” Campbell confirmed. “They said he’s got to leave town as soon as he’s done talking to you, so he’d meet you in your office.”
Blake sighed and glanced at his watch. Maybe they could do a quick chat and he could get back before the show ended. “Okay, thanks, Campbell.”
He looked around for someone to tell, but Ivy’s manager, Kevin, was on the phone and everyone else seemed to be running around madly. With a shrug, he took off toward his office. He could still hear the concert as he went down the hallway of the school, so he could hopefully keep tabs on what was going on and not miss too much.
His office door was shut and no one was outside it when he arrived. Blake opened the door and stepped inside. When he switched on the light and shut the door, he caught a glimpse of his chair turning and someone sitting in it. It was Lydia.
“Lydia? What the hell are you doing in my office?”
She smiled sweetly and stood up. When she rounded the desk, he noticed she was wearing the same pink sundress she’d worn on their first date. He’d complimented her on it, and she obviously hadn’t forgotten. She was all done up tonight. Her long blond hair was pinned up and curled. She was wearing more makeup than usual. She was looking lovely, and if he cared, he’d say so. But he wasn’t encouraging Lydia.
“Blake,” she said as she came toward him, “I wanted to apologize for the way I’ve been acting.”
That’s when he realized there was no reporter. This was all Lydia’s doing. “Jesus, Lydia. I’m missing the end of Ivy’s show. The only reason I left was because I thought I could get a LSU scout to come to one of our games. If there’s not a reporter coming, I’m leaving. You can say what you want tomorrow, when Ivy’s gone.”
The smile faded away for a moment at the mention of Ivy, but she quickly recovered. She put her hand on his arm and leaned into him. “Blake, sit down, please, and let me say what I need to say. It will only take a minute. I just feel awful about everything that has happened recently.”
“I bet you do.” He turned and headed for the door.
His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her shout, “I’m going to turn myself in!”
That was enough to give him pause. He turned around and looked at her with surprise. That was one of the last things he expected to hear. “Turn yourself in? To the police?”
She nodded, her gaze dipping to the floor in a shameful expression. “I know it’s the right thing to do. I hope the judge will understand that I hadn’t intended to hurt anyone and be lenient with the sentencing. I just wanted Ivy to screw something up for a change. Everything she does always works out. She’s bested me at every competition, making me look like a fool. For once, I wanted her to look like a fool. In front of the whole town.”
Some of her words rang true, but not all of them. He didn’t doubt her reasoning for spooking the horses; that was probably right. But why she was turning herself in? He doubted she’d had a sudden attack of conscience.
“Are you being blackmailed?” he asked. That was the only reason he figured she would come clean. Perhaps Nash’s price was getting too high.
“Blackmailed? Of course not.”
“Come on, Lydia. I know about the pictures. Are you worried Nash didn’t keep his promise to give you all the copies, since you didn’t keep your promise to pay the asking price?”
Her lips tightened into a thin line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really? Lydia, if you’re going to come clean, come clean. You can’t just admit to the firecracker. You have to admit to paying Nash to keep the photos from getting out. You also have to admit that you cheated the guy and ended up screwing yourself.”
“How did I screw myself? I have the pictures.”
“Sure you do. You have a copy. Do you think Nash was that stupid? Did you think you could smile and flip your hair and he wouldn’t mind that you shorted him a couple hundred bucks?”
“Well, I—”
“No, Lydia. He kept a copy because he was smart. And you know who’s got a copy, too? Hell, a guy like Nash could’ve made a fortune going around selling ‘exclusive’ copies of those pictures to half the town. Your folks, me, Ivy, my grandmother . . .”
She swallowed hard, then shook her head as though that would dismiss the unpleasantness. “It doesn’t matter who has the pictures because I’m going to the police. I feel awful about everything. After the show, I’m going to apologize to Ivy. But while I can, I want to apologize to you. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll leave you alone.”
He wasn’t about to sit down. He wasn’t committing to anything. Instead, he leaned on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “You have five minutes, and then I’m leaving.”
Chapter Nineteen
The concert was going well. Judging by the enthusiasm of the crowd and the smile on Kevin’s face, it might actually be one of her better performances. No doubt, she was buoyed by the emotional high of performing Blake’s song tonight. It would be the encore; Kevin had it all set up.
The first time she’d told Blake she loved him, she had been scared to death, shaking in her sixteen-year-old boots. Whispering those words to him for the first time had taken every ounce of courage she had. To her relief, he’d immediately responded that he loved her, too. It had been one of those moments of teenage romantic bliss.
Tonight somehow seemed even scarier. She was going to get on that stage and announce not only to Blake, but to the whole world that she was in love with him. That she wanted to be with him no matter what it took to make things work.
Finishing the last song in the set, Ivy waved to the audience and shouted, “Thank you and good night!” The stage went dark. The roar from the crowd was near deafening. Ivy slipped off her guitar and handed it to a stagehand before running offstage to where Kevin was waiting for her.
He was beaming with pride as he clapped her on the shoulder. �
��Are you ready to do this?” he asked. “This is a career changer.”
Ivy took a deep breath and nodded. She had enough pressure announcing her feelings to Blake without remembering that the new direction of her singing career was also depending on how this next song went. Another stagehand brought out Blake’s letter jacket. She would wear it during the performance while a slideshow of old pictures of Blake and Ivy would be projected behind her.
Ivy looked around her, more nervous than ever. She expected Blake to be backstage. He’d been there for the majority of the concert, but now, when it mattered, he was missing. She figured he had to be around here somewhere, but she hated not knowing for sure. What if he missed it?
“Have you seen Blake?” she asked.
Kevin shook his head, snapping his finger for a stagehand. “He was here a few minutes ago when I was on the phone. Find Blake Chamberlain,” he said to the guy in a headset. The stagehand disappeared and Kevin put his arm around her shoulder. “He’ll hear it. You’ve got a hundred thousand watts of sound to back you up. Just get out there and sing your heart out.”
Her lead guitarist struck the first loud riff of the song and the crowd went nuts. The cool blue lights illuminated the stage. That was her cue. Ivy walked back out and took a seat on the wooden stool. She slipped on her acoustic guitar and adjusted the microphone. The low instrumental of the song played in the background as she introduced it for the first time.
“You guys are probably used to songs of heartbreak and betrayal coming from me, but tonight, I want to share something new. I’ve had my heart touched in a way I can barely describe. The only thing I could think to do was put it in a song. So here, tonight, I’m telling all of you, and a very special someone, just how much I love him.”
The roar of applause following her announcement made her smile. “I’m really excited to debut this new song here, because it hits really close to my heart, the way Rosewood is close to my heart. I couldn’t think of a better way to thank all of you for coming out here tonight and helping Rosewood rebuild than to give you an exclusive performance—the debut of ‘I’ve Never Stopped Loving You.’ ”
Facing the Music Page 24
