And she wasn’t about to let her twin sister’s skepticism dim the magic.
Chapter Four
Emmett took extra care getting ready for his date with Janie. He tried on three different shirts before settling on a soft plaid with button snaps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. It was a shirt his brother hated. It wasn’t near preppy enough for a Calhoun, but that made him want to wear it more. Deacon could keep his pretty pink shirts and pressed khakis. He could keep all of it. Downtown society, the yacht club, the pew down at Second Presbyterian where his family had been sitting every Sunday for five generations. He was tired of it all.
One hour with Janie had reignited his desire to find his career in music and leave his old life behind. She’d made her dreams work, why couldn’t he? But as soon as he’d allowed the thought to take form, doubt came close behind.
He was too old.
Too unoriginal.
His family would never support him.
He glanced in the mirror one last time before picking up his keys. That last part was what rankled the most. His father didn’t go so far as to fund his bank account. But the only reason his part-time job waiting tables was enough to cover all his expenses was because his housing and transportation were taken care of. His apartment on East Bay Street was owned by his family, and his truck had been a high school graduation gift.
How much longer the money would last, Emmett didn’t know. Every day he wasn’t studying for the South Carolina bar was a day counted against him. He half expected his father to show up any day and turn him out.
And maybe that’s what he needed. It would make him man up, at least.
He and Janie had agreed to meet downtown at Butcher and Bee for dinner. It was one of Charleston’s more eclectic eateries that seemed a little too green for Emmett’s liking, but Janie had assured him there was a secret menu item he would love, as long as he was a fan of cheese and burgers. That had been enough to convince him.
He parked his truck and found Janie standing in front of the restaurant. She wore a simple black dress just short enough to make her legs look miles long and her hair was down, loose waves hanging over her shoulders. When their eyes met and she smiled—a full genuine smile—it felt like the world tipped and then righted again. It was a smile he couldn’t un-see. And now that he’d seen that joy on her face, he craved it.
He stopped in front of her. “Hello.”
“Hi.” She leaned forward and took his hand, squeezing it for a moment before kissing him on the cheek.
Well, that had to be a good sign.
She kept hold of his hand. “Ready?”
“I’m following you,” he said. “You’re sure I’m going to like this place?”
“You’re going to think you won’t when you read the menu. But trust me. You won’t be disappointed.”
He let Janie take the lead on ordering and grinned when he realized the secret menu item she ordered for him was an actual cheeseburger. He thought she’d been exaggerating just to get him there. “It’s not just any cheeseburger,” she said. “But I still think you’ll like it. Seriously though, if you’re not willing to at least try the whipped feta and honey, we can’t be friends.”
“You’re passionate about your food, I see,” Emmett said.
She took a sip of her water. “Among other things, yes.”
“It’s not so much that I mind fancy food. I just generally like it with a side of beef.”
She rolled her eyes. “You and every other Charlestonian.”
They talked all the way through dinner. About nothing, really, but that’s what made it so easy. They laughed the most when they reminisced about high school. Teachers they’d both had, the actual real tears Janie had cried when they’d dissected a fetal pig in biology lab. And Mallory’s endless string of bad boyfriends.
“Do you remember when she dated that freshman?” Emmett asked. “Was that our senior year?”
“We were juniors,” Janie corrected him. “And to be fair, he did not look like a freshman.”
Emmett laughed. “Seriously, that girl had the weirdest taste in guys.”
Janie shook her head. “Not much has changed. It makes me sad. I just want her to be happy and she keeps ending up with these guys that stomp all over her heart.”
It felt like a good opening, so Emmett amped up the conversation game. “What about you?” he asked. “Any broken hearts in your history?”
She didn’t hesitate to respond, which felt like a good thing. No emotions too close to the surface. “Lots of stupid dating, but only one serious boyfriend. Another musician who left me for the New York Philharmonic.”
“Ouch.”
“Not at all,” Janie said. “I would leave me for the New York Phil, and I think I’m pretty great. What about you?”
He shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Come on. We’re twenty-five. And you’re—” she motioned to him, waving her hand up and down, “—all of that. Surely there’s been someone.”
He stifled a laugh. “Sure. I dated a few girls in college. But nothing that ever really went anywhere.”
She nodded, considering. “Okay. I like a man without baggage.”
And he liked a woman with her confidence. In one sense it was weird, because that confidence reminded him a lot of high school Mallory. But Janie seemed more grounded, more at peace with herself than Mallory had ever been. Like she knew exactly who she was meant to be. Man, he envied that.
After dinner, he followed her back to her condo. He carried his guitar up the steps behind her, careful to keep his gaze from lingering too long on the curve of her—
“Mallory might be home,” Janie said, pulling his focus to her face. “I hope that’s okay.” She unlocked the door and led him inside.
“Sure. It’d be nice to see her again.”
Instead, they found an empty house, a note from Mallory stuck to the fridge.
“Gone to Dad’s to reassure him of my well-being. HAPPY NOW?” the note read.
“What’s that all about?” Emmett asked as Janie poured them each a drink.
Janie handed his over, then kicked her shoes off, leading him to the living room in her bare feet. There was something so casual about the gesture, it almost felt . . . intimate. Like she was letting him see the at-home and personal version of herself. “My Dad,” she said over her shoulder, “is a kind and lovely man who is devoted wholeheartedly to the happiness of his daughters. If we disappear for too long, he’s been known to serial text.”
“Sounds rough,” Emmett said. He set his drink on the coffee table and pulled out his guitar.
“Except, it really isn’t. He’s so sweet about it. And he’s pretty good at respecting our boundaries. I mean, we joke, but honestly, we feel lucky to have someone so completely on our team, you know?”
Emmett wondered what that might feel like. His family was definitely on his team. But only if he played the game exactly the way they wanted.
“Ready to learn?” Janie asked.
Emmett nodded. He was nearly drunk on Janie’s presence. Two days, and he was so far gone, he’d have agreed to study the Cyrillic alphabet if Janie were his teacher. He ran a hand through his hair. When was the last time he’d ever felt something so fast? Maybe never.
Janie started in with a basic explanation of how to read music. Talking about staffs and clefs, whole notes and half notes. Her instruction mostly made sense. Music was a language that already felt pretty intuitive. She was only giving what he knew more structure than it had inside his brain. But it still took him twice as much energy to focus. Every time she moved and he caught a whiff of her scent—vanilla, maybe, and something like oranges—he had to will himself to zero in on her words and not just her lips.
“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Janie asked.
Emmett snapped to attention. “I’m listening to everything you’re saying.”
She cocked her head. “Then why do you look like you’re on a
completely different planet? I swear I’m not trying to be boring.”
“You’re not boring.”
“Then what is it?”
“Honestly?”
She nodded.
“I can’t stop thinking about whether or not I’m going to get to kiss you at the end of the night.”
Her face flooded with color, and her eyes dropped to the floor. For a speck of a second, her confidence was gone, and she looked like she wanted to crawl inside herself and disappear. But then she looked up, meeting his gaze head on, her eyes lit with a fire he’d never seen before. She stood from where she sat on the piano bench, closing the distance between them in two short strides. When her lips met his, he was ready.
Her lips were warm and soft and electric. The kiss was hesitant at first, but then she turned her face, deepening their connection and nearly undoing him. He surrendered to her lead, wrapping his arms around her, his fingers tracing the exposed skin on her back. Her hands moved to his neck, then slid forward, cradling either side of his face. She broke the kiss but kept her forehead close. “There,” she said softly. “You don’t have to wonder anymore. Maybe now you’ll pay better attention.”
His shoulders lifted in silent laughter and he shook his head. “Not likely.”
An hour later, they sat on the couch, as many parts of them touching as he could manage while still holding his guitar. It was Janie that made him pick it up again. Emmett would have traded it for Janie in his arms in a second, but when she asked him to sing to her, he couldn’t say no.
He sang the last words of his favorite Blake Shelton song and strummed the final chord.
Janie smiled. “You sing it better than he does.”
“Ha,” Emmett said. “I wish.”
“Have you ever made a demo?” she asked.
The question made him feel exposed, like she’d ripped off a bandage and exposed the raw skin underneath. Making a demo implied he was ready to attempt a career. No doubt he wanted it; but wanting something and feeling ready for something were two different things. He’d been swimming upriver his whole life when it came to his music. Having someone express genuine interest, without any judgement felt revolutionary. “Nah. I’ve thought about it a few times. But what would I do with it? It’s not like you can just mail a demo to Nashville.”
“Why not?”
Emmett nudged her with his shoulder. “Listen, Miss Vanderbilt University. Not all of us are as fortunate as you. Record labels don’t take unsolicited submissions.” He’d done enough research to know that much. “You gotta know somebody. And I don’t know anybody.”
“You’re a Calhoun. Your family is one of the oldest and richest in Charleston. Surely somebody knows somebody.”
“Nope. Not unless you’re trying to get into law school or launch your first political campaign.”
“Is that why you went to law school? Because of your family?” Janie leaned her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing lines up and down his forearm. Somehow, her touch made it easier to answer. Like she’d already accepted him regardless of what he had to say.
“Yep,” he said softly. “Went to SC Law just like Deacon. Just like my dad. Just like his dad. I graduated and everything.”
Janie pushed herself up, a hand pressed against his chest. “Are you practicing law? I guess I thought . . .” Her words trailed off. “I don’t know what I thought. I know you went to law school. Google told me that much. But, I’ve been thinking about you as a musician. How have we not talked about your day job?”
“Chill, Janie. This is our first date,” Emmett joked.
She scrunched up her face. “No, I’m calling yesterday a date too. That makes this number two. Besides, ‘What do you do?’ is like a starter question. How did we skip over that one?”
“Honestly, I try and avoid talking about college and work. Most people don’t understand why I’m not practicing law and don’t hesitate to share their opinions. Nobody understands.”
“Try me,” Janie said.
He took a long breath, slow and deep. “I graduated from law school, but I don’t practice law.”
“Okay. Why not?”
“Well, first, I can’t. I still haven’t taken the bar, so I’m licensed to practice exactly nowhere. Second, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be a lawyer.”
She hugged her arms around a pillow, like she was creating a barrier between them. A wall she’d keep building with every new thing she learned about his lack of progress, his lack of . . . everything. “Have you always known you didn’t want to do it?” she asked. “Be a lawyer?”
Emmett took a deep breath and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know. I think I thought law would grow on me. The pressure from my family was pretty intense, but that last year it got really bad. The closer I got to graduation, the more Dad talked about bringing me into the practice. I knew I couldn’t do it.”
“So what are you doing?”
“Waiting tables downtown. Playing gigs whenever I can get ‘em. Waiting for something to happen, I guess.”
Janie flung the pillow from her lap with a huff. “Well, that’s not going to work.”
Emmett shot her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen. You gotta make it happen. Make a demo.” Her eyes lit up. “We’ll do one together. We’ll do your new song. It’s so perfect, Emmett. Oh! And I have a friend who has a recording studio downtown. I’m sure he’ll let us use it for close to nothing.”
Emmett appreciated her enthusiasm, but she was talking like he actually had the ability to make it in a very competitive music industry. “I’m just some guy with a guitar, Janie. I’m not anything special.”
She stared. “Emmett, I’ve seen you play enough times to know that isn’t true. I’m admittedly not a connoisseur of country, but I do know music. You are something special.”
Why was it so hard for him to believe her words? “So then what?” he said. “We make a demo. What do I do with it?”
“I don’t know. We send it to all the bars around Charleston and try and get you more gigs. Maybe we send it to the local radio station.” She chewed on her lip, her eyes darting this way and that. He could almost hear the gears turning in her head. “Maybe I could send it to a few of my professors at Vanderbilt. They all live right there in Nashville. I’m sure the university has connections in the recording industry. It can’t hurt to check, right?”
Emmett stared. She’d said we. Like she was on his team and willing to help him. Even though she knew about his law degree. About his last name. His family money. With all that, she still thought he could make music work.
He wasn’t going to lie. Singing country music was a quick way to impress women. But in his experience, it wasn’t a gig that earned him trips home to meet the parents. He was the fling. The exciting weekend. But long term? If given the choice, most women wanted the lawyer. But Janie wasn’t most women. He’d been saying that from the start. “You’d help me with all that?” he finally asked.
“Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?”
What could he say to that? Nothing, that’s what. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her again.
Chapter Five
One week turned into two weeks, then into three, then six, then eight. But the weeks hardly mattered. Monday, Tuesday, Saturday, whatever. Janie was so far gone on Emmett, if she didn’t have reminders going off on her phone telling her where she was supposed to be and when she was supposed to be there, her life might have fallen apart. Not that she cared. Emmett was enough.
They texted every day.
Saw each other every weekend.
And a couple times during the week as well.
He’d been to one of her symphony concerts. She’d gone to see him play a set at the Tattooed Moose. From the front row, this time. No more hiding in the shadows.
The one downside? The closer she grew to Emmett, the more strain
she felt on her relationship with Mallory. Her sister was distant. More withdrawn. And not at all interested in hearing anything about Janie’s new relationship. Janie suspected it was jealousy. Not of Emmett, specifically, but definitely of her happiness in general. Janie shrugged it off. She’d spent her entire high school experience jealous of her sister. What did it matter if the tables were turned for once?
A little more than a week before Deacon’s wedding, Janie lounged in her living room waiting for Mallory to get home. They were supposed to have met for hot yoga earlier in the evening, but Mal never showed. She’d responded to Janie’s text—at least she knew she wasn’t dead—but she hadn’t offered any explanation as to where she was or why she’d stood Janie up.
Her phone chimed with a text and Janie reached for it, picking it up off the coffee table.
Do you think the wedding counts as our ‘meet the parents’ date? We’re two months in. It’s about time, right?
Janie grinned. It made her nervous, the idea of meeting the entire Calhoun clan, but at least she wouldn’t have to stand around and make small talk the whole time. She’d have to work. They could talk about her all they wanted while she played the reception with her quartet.
Technically, I already met your Mom. When she hired my quartet to play the wedding, Janie texted back. I doubt she’ll remember me, though.
Of course she’ll remember you, Emmett said. You’re pretty memorable.
I hope she doesn’t hate me.
She won’t. But if she does, who cares? My parents already hate me. Emmett added a winking emoji at the end of his message. Another came through before she could respond. Are you coming over tonight?
She smiled at the thought. They’d been spending more and more time at his place because Mallory always acted so put out when they hung out at home. But she was long overdue for a talk with her sister. For once, that had to take priority. I have to hang with Mal for a little while. Twin bonding. But maybe after?
Wedding Belles: A Novel in Four Parts Page 10
