Kassidy's Crescendo

by Marianne Evans

  “Ah…you might want to breathe, pal.”

  Aware of Liam’s rumbling chuckle, Drew forced himself to focus. “Cut it out.”

  Liam released an overly dramatic sigh. “Know what? You were right. Hate to admit it, but this is a huge yawn, just like you predicted. I think I better tell her to amp it up a little.”

  “See also: Shut up.”

  Liam chuckled all over again, and there was a hefty measure of gloating in the sound. Drew feigned a scowl and decided to bust Liam’s chops in return.

  “I was testing their mettle, and you know it, so cut me some slack.”

  Liam kicked his feet up and reclined in his seat. Drew, meanwhile, leaned forward. Anything to get closer to her. “She’s mesmerizing.”

  “No doubt of that.” An undercurrent of knowing rode through Liam’s tone.

  The spontaneous connection Drew had shared with Kassidy before rehearsal still clouded his mind, loosening the defenses he had built to remain resolutely in control of his emotions. He retreated fast to cover his tracks.

  “The thing that blows my mind is the fact that there are no egos here.” Drew blew out a puff of air. “I can’t say I’m used to that. I watched their interview segment from the floor of the studio this morning and felt nothing but satisfaction. These girls are gems. They’re real. In a world peppered by divas and bad behavior, here stand four women who, instead, are watching out for each other and working from a point of unity rather than one-upmanship. People respond to that, and their audience can’t get enough of the type of show and presence they project.”

  “It isn’t projected, Drew. You said it yourself. It’s real. That’s the key. You saw it for yourself when they rallied around Siobhan after the accident. They could walk away from this and never look back if that’s what God intends. They rely on Him. That’s the most important thing—the secret to their success. God.”

  Drew studied his friend and colleague, utterly convicted. Could he say the same about his own work life? Did he have anything even remotely as important and meaningful in his personal life? Strike one and strike two.

  But he had been this way for so long his behavior bordered on instinctive. How could he embrace any type of change and explore a life of faith without seeming like a hypocrite? Furthermore, was that kind of change what he really and truly wanted?

  “You know the score Liam. I’m not a Christian. I’m here because of your endorsement and the good graces of Cam Franklin.”

  “I do know that. But I also know Cam Franklin is too smart a businessman to lose someone like you to unsubstantiated industry gossip.”

  “You were with me in New York when I met Roxanne Mitchell. Your company is the one that brought her, and her tour, to Ganneton. You know there was nothing inappropriate between the two of us.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “How do you think Kassidy would react if she found out I was dismissed from Roxy’s tour because of an ill-conceived relationship that ended because I wanted to step away? No. I’m not going to approach Kassidy on a personal level. Besides, she wouldn’t be interested. I’m not…well…you know…I don’t really...”

  “You don’t really what?”

  “You know what I’m getting at.”

  “Yeah, I do, but you need to ‘fess up and own it. You don’t really what?”

  “I’ve never held to the kind of beliefs she does. That’s another reason to simply admire her from afar.”

  “Or maybe you should look at the path in front of you, not the one you left behind.” Liam gave Drew a moment to take in that piece of advice. “You’ve been given the helm of the Sisters in Spirit tour for a reason. I’ve always believed you have enormous potential to do big things in this industry, and I’m not talking about blockbuster hits. I’m talking about decency, finding exceptional talent and making it come to life in ways that are honorable and lasting. Hence that endorsement of mine you mentioned.”

  Drew shot his friend a grateful look. Meanwhile, questions swirled, and he nearly stepped back from the growing turmoil by distracting himself. He slid his cellphone out of his slacks pocket and activated the home button, ready to dive into the comfort zone of work and that all important goal of redemption from past sins—a reclaiming of his reputation in the industry.

  That’s when he cast a glance toward the stage—and Kassidy. A glance lingered into a look. A look bloomed to a stare that absorbed her thoroughly and stripped his heart bare.

  “I love the way that song turns her into a storyteller. Her performance makes me feel like I’m living the experience.”

  “That’s because Kassidy more than anyone else in the group, lived the message of that song.”

  Another golden nugget of knowledge. Drew ignored the phone-tether. “Really? She did? How?” Eagerness coated the words and he knew it.

  Liam’s gaze shifted away from the stage, full of speculation and a protectiveness that spoke of his affection for Kassidy. “I think I’ll let her answer that for you.”

  “Way to be my wing man.”

  Liam chuckled easily and shrugged. “That’s exactly what I’m being. I’m delivering sound advice. Ask her about it and build a roadway toward her if that’s what you want. She’ll meet you there. Kassidy hides from no one. Plus, I know her well enough to say she’ll be glad you cared enough to ask.”

  Following a second probing look, Liam ended the conversation so Drew let the topic rest. The ball had been knocked soundly into Drew’s court, and that gave him something to think about.

  He leaned forward against the chair in front of him, elbows propped while he lost himself in the motion, music, and atmosphere...as well as the stirring beauty of Kassidy Cartwright.

  And he wondered. Where to from here?

  ****

  The bus ride to Boston was loud and boisterous; Kassidy longed for a nap, but that hope died against the bumps and swerves of the highway. Deluxe hotel accommodations or not, she had stewed for most of the night, tossing and grumbling beneath that exquisite satin comforter she had discussed with Drew.

  Sure, part of her restlessness stemmed from après concert adrenaline. There was also the building excitement of leaving home turf and heading inland for their upcoming shows.

  Most of all, though, Kassidy had to own the fact that her edgy behavior stemmed from the escalating attention of Drew Wintower.

  She had no idea how to conquer that realization and tame it into some form of safe order. His interest was unobtrusive but clear—hers for the taking—a gift to accept, or reject as she chose. The way he had watched her at rehearsal today, the way he tracked her moves, was coupled by a respectful level of professionalism and distance that left Kassidy balancing against the up and down motion of a teeter-totter.

  Was he interested or not? Was she interested or not?

  In an added complexity to tour travel, the surroundings were crowded, too crowded to privately sound out her friends on the topic. With no way to vent, Kassidy’s tension continued to escalate, spurred on by uncertainty, yearning…and desire.

  “You’re scowling again.”

  Siobhan drifted to a perch on the bench seat next to Kassidy, bumping against her shoulder and offering to share a plastic baggie of vegetable snacks. Kassidy studied the celery, carrots, red and yellow peppers then wrinkled her nose.

  “Seriously. Can’t we indulge in junk food for even five seconds?”

  “Not if we want to fit into our costumes.” Siobhan bumped at her again, just to be annoying. “Is that why you’re so grumpy? No carbs? No sweets?”

  “I’m not grumpy, and you’re totally not adorable right now.”

  Siobhan fluttered her lashes. “Isn’t that a pity?” A contented smile lit her face, sparkled through her deep blue eyes. She crunched a celery stick. “C’mon. What’s up with my KC?”

  Surrendering the craving to indulge in a bit of comfort food, Kassidy reached for a carrot, swayed a bit as the bus chugged and angled along a curve in the road. “We’ll chat abo
ut it before rehearsal starts. Until then, I promise to make an attitude adjustment.”

  “But you’re stirred up.”

  Kassidy grabbed a yellow pepper, munched. “And then some, yeah.” She rested her head on Siobhan’s shoulder, half tempted to drop off to sleep once she dispensed of her veggie treat…if you could call it that.

  “This is about Drew, isn’t it?” Siobhan spoke gently, her words coated by a measure of tenderness that slipped a loving hand against Kassidy’s mood. Kassidy tilted her head to meet the eyes of her friend and she nodded, not saying anything else.

  For now.

  ****

  Kassidy realized that Maeve Callahan’s modus operandi was to grab every last second of shut-eye possible. She also knew Aileen Brewer was sharing a morning caffeine jolt with Liam. Thinking of the conversation she had shared with Siobhan on the bus yesterday, Kassidy texted her friend, arranging to meet her in the hotel lobby so they could get a jump start on rehearsal, and share a bit of girl-time.

  For the Boston stop, their designated practice facility was a dance studio housed on the top floor of a fabulous old brick building in the heart of downtown. Added bonus? It was located just a few blocks from their hotel.

  Siobhan agreed, and they headed out a short time later. Traffic buzzed by; people pushed and pressed, making conversation unnecessary for the time being. Kassidy yawned heavily as they arrived at their assigned room. She settled her duffle and unzipped the main pocket, snatching a glittery green water bottle from inside. She sank to the floor and made ready to hydrate before Elizabeth Portier cut loose. On the outside, her bottle featured the white scripted words, ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish.’ She loosened the lid and gulped, delighting in the refreshment of cold, quenching liquid.

  Head back, eyes closed, Kassidy jumped when something dropped into her lap. Her eyes flew open to find Siobhan standing over her, and a pack of peanut butter cookies on her lap. Spilled water dribbled across the front of Kassidy’s oversized t-shirt of zesty pink.

  “Contraband,” Siobhan informed, “to ease your suffering and satisfy your yen for sweets.”

  Siobhan’s waggling brows and cheeky grin made Kassidy laugh, despite the slight spill. “I love you, you know.”

  Siobhan slid to the floor next to Kassidy. “I know. Now, come clean. What’s troubling you?”

  “You already know the answer.”

  “Drew.”

  “He’s…getting to me.” Kassidy pressed a fist against her stomach. “Right here.” Then against her heart. “And right here. I’m fighting it, and so is he, but doing so isn’t making either of us happy. It’s only making things…well…”

  “Itchy?”

  Kassidy’s laughter bubbled free. “I was aiming for strained, but I suppose itchy is another apt way of stating it.”

  “I know the feeling.” Siobhan extended her legs, flexed, and bent forward to touch her toes. “AJ and I were at cross purposes for a while there, remember? It had me all agitated.”

  “Exactly!” Kassidy warmed to the topic, and the opportunity to be candid. “OK, so at sound check the other day, did you happen to notice the way he stared at me? He made me completely flustered and self-conscious.”

  “I was in the wings. I watched, and I saw.” Siobhan straightened then shrugged. “He wasn’t staring. He was staring at you. I also noticed that yummy little hug you gave him when we first saw the stage. All the symptoms are there. In fact, it’s pretty obvious.”

  “Symptoms of what? Attraction? Yeah, OK, we’re attracted. That doesn’t mean we should act on it. Not by a long shot. He’s so not my type for the long haul.”

  “Oh, really? Well, allow me to whack you over the head with a figurative two-by-four and help crystallize a few facts. What you’re experiencing with Drew isn’t about attraction or lust or desire or anything else like that. It’s about a pull that comes from the Spirit. And KC, it’s at work in both of you. You’re crawling deep enough into the man’s mind that he can’t let you go. He’s fascinated—but he’s struggling. So are you, lady. Meet in the middle. Find out what happens.”

  Kassidy’s world swayed for a moment. “That’s ridiculous advice. What if he’s after a conquest? He’s secular, driven by culture, uber-aggressive and—”

  “A conquest? No way, and stop making excuses to push him aside, because part of you is pulled straight to what else he is. Decent. Attractive. Charming. We’re talking about a man who’s ready for God’s hand. Who better to guide him there than you?”

  “No! No way. Too messy. Too much risk.”

  Issuing an un-lady like snort, Siobhan ignited the portable stereo which held a CD of music from the show. Meantime, Kassidy’s defenses ticked to life. The ponytailed blonde stood and bent at the waist, flattening her palms against the floor. She stretched left and right then worked through a brief series of choreography while maintaining a critical eye on her reflection in a mirror on the wall opposite.

  “You can’t have it both ways, sweetie. You can’t reel him in on a hook then pretend you don’t revel in the response.”

  “I’ve done no such thing!”

  Still, panic took off through Kassidy’s bloodstream like a jet. She launched to her feet, deciding to burn off some excess energy by rehearsing. The musical selection was an instrumental version of “El Shaddai.” Siobhan spun delicately to the beat of the music. Her gauzy, hip-length skirt floated around her legs.

  “KC, you’ve been drawn to him from the moment you met. Furthermore, I can see right through you. You’re gobbling up every second of his interest, and there’s nothing wrong with that. After all, you’re single, you’re attractive, you’re available—”

  “What?” KC’s tone cut the atmosphere at an unappealing, screeching decibel.

  Siobhan stuffed a pinky in her ear and wiggled it around, wincing with overdone drama. Typical. KC folded her arms across her chest, toe tapping rapidly as she cocked a hip and stared at her friend. The pixie-minx just giggled. Giggled.

  “Seems the truth unsettles you a bit. I’d think about that if I were in your pumps.” Pointedly Siobhan glanced at Kassidy’s performance footwear, brow arched, her bossy posture and attitude resembling that Elizabeth Portier. “Did you really think God would send you someone easy? Someone you could walk all over? No way. He’s going to send you someone who fills you up and challenges you. Someone who excites your body and your mind. Someone who sets fire to that sassy spirit of yours. Someone just like Drew.” Siobhan punched emphasis to the last three words.

  “All that being understood, allow me to toss out a cautionary note, and it’s a deal-breaker.” Siobhan paused, her gaze steady and direct. Kassidy nodded for her to proceed. “Beware of belief versus non-belief. Don’t become unevenly yoked. You’ve rejected the kind of culture, the type of conventions that drive a big portion of Drew’s life. You’ve dedicated yourself to God and your faith. He hasn’t. Maybe you’ve been placed in his life not for romance but to be a beacon, to influence his heart toward Christ. To initiate steps toward faith. If his belief blooms, praise be to God. But if it doesn’t…”

  The words dangled to a conclusion that needed no elaboration. Kassidy trembled, eyes wide and focused on her friend. Siobhan resumed her dance and her diatribe. “He’s sexy, edgy, full of charisma, and from what I’ve seen, he’s got a solid core of goodness and potential. I pray God works with that foundation. Besides, there’s something irresistible about a man who moves into your soul and takes you under like a wave…almost before you even realize the power of his impact. That’s what you’re experiencing right now, KC. Admit it. Admit it, but continue to be smart. Stick to your convictions. If you do, miracles can happen.”

  “Siobhan,” Kassidy murmured, “you’re scaring me.”

  “Sometimes the truth is scary. When has that fact ever stopped the indomitable Kassidy Cartwright?” Siobhan stopped dancing. “If that man can find his way to the armor of Christ, he’d be a potent addition to the Kingdom and maybe even more.” She
shrugged prettily and resumed practice.

  Kassidy inhaled a stuttered breath.

  Siobhan relented and swirled close enough to deliver a playful shove. “Enough drama for now. We need to practice!”

  Kassidy growled, but the only thing that display of frustration earned was a satisfied smirk and an unaffected pirouette from Siobhan that brought an end to their tête-à-tête.

  4

  Tour stops came and went in the type of high-speed blur to which Drew had become accustomed during the tenure of his career. Years spent in the concert production business had forced him to become adept at hanging on for the ride. Early on he learned life on tour, life in live entertainment, required a heavy dose of patience paired with an ability to make the best of any given set of circumstances and get them to work.

  The current practice session taking place at Wixby Metroplex in Denver was a perfect example. On stage, trouble brewed in the form of a young boy from the elementary school choir commissioned to perform at tonight’s sold-out show. Stage fright, like the toppling of domino chips, worked its way through the youngster, causing a few stumbles and some awkward breaks in rehearsal that affected the flow of motion within the group.

  Standing next to an elaborate sound board installed at the back of the facility, Drew consulted a placement chart for the choir. Tony was the boy’s name. Drew had noticed him back stage, horsing around with his friends, singing in warm ups. The kid was easy going, and had a fantastic set of pipes, but now he stood frozen—and trembling—blinking against flood lights and an onslaught of terror.

  “Might have to nix them. Not sure a choir this young was the way to go.” Paul Moreland, the lead sound tech, shot Drew a hassled look.

  “They fit perfectly into the show, and I’m not re-staging the song at this point.” Drew frowned at his team member and set aside his clipboard. “Don’t be so fast to give up.”

  He trotted down the main aisle. Paul was impatient, an outspoken pusher who was eager to helm a show of his own. Anything that interfered with momentum rubbed him like an abrasive. Drew, on the other hand, had worked with young vocalists before and had a pretty good idea how to defuse the situation without too much time lost.