Facing the Music: A Rosewood Novel

by Andrea Laurence

  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, funny, 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 off stage, 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 wh
y 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 19

  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 off stage 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.’ ”

  The background music got louder and the crowd cheered wildly. Ivy put her fingers to the strings of her guitar and started to play. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the microphone and began to sing.

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that nothing good in life comes easy

  And when it comes to love, it’s painfully true the same rules apply

  We’ve had our differences, and you’ve taken the long road back to me

  But now I’m in your arms, and I must admit that baby, I lied

  I said I was over you, I said we were through

  I said I’d go on without you . . . but I’ve never stopped loving you

  No, I’ve never stopped loving you

  I’ve tried to move on, but your hold on me is strong And I can’t stop loving you

  She sang as though she were alone, singing the song to Blake. He was the only one who needed to hear it. The only one who would really understand what she was trying to tell him. She forgot about the crowd and the audio/visual team recording her performance; she just lost herself in the music.

  As she strummed the last chord and the music faded away, Ivy felt a huge weight lift from her chest. There were tears in her eyes as she looked out at the enthusiastic crowd. They loved the song. She’d sounded damn good. Kevin would be more than pleased with the live recording. She had no doubt the song would be available on iTunes before she landed back in LA.

  She stood and blew a kiss to the crowd. “Thank you.” Ivy took a bow and absorbed the applause. Hopefully Blake would be as receptive as the audience was to her song.

  Now was the moment. This was when she would walk off stage and into Blake’s arms. She’d fantasized about it all day like it was some romantic movie playing in her head. She would run into his arms and he would tell her how much he loved her. That would be better than any amount of audience applause.

  She took a deep breath and started walking. As she cleared the curtains, she looked around but found only Kevin. This was not what she was hoping for. “Where is he?”

  Kevin shook his head. “We’ve been looking for him. He’s around somewhere. I’m sure he heard it. How could he not?”

  The stage assistant came running up just then, out of breath from his search. “Someone said that Blake had to do a last-minute interview in his office.”

  Ivy tried not to be disappointed, but she couldn’t help the sinking feeling in her chest. He’d missed it. He’d been in his office with some reporter talking about the Rosewood football program instead of hearing her sing her heart and soul out to him.

  Her bodyguard, Dominick, came up and put a reassuring hand on Ivy’s shoulder. He’d flown out with Kevin to help with fan control during the concert, and it was amazing how much more comfortable she felt with him by her side. He was six foot four, tw
o hundred and forty pounds of security. “Let’s go find him,” he said in his comforting low rumble of a voice. “Bring your guitar. Maybe he can get a private performance. That might be a better way to hear the song anyway.”

  Ivy nodded. Maybe he was right. “Kevin, I have to go find him.”

  “Good luck. I’m sure it will go great. I’m jetting out of here in about two hours, so if you can, catch me before then to say good-bye, okay? Otherwise I’ll get with you in LA later next week.”

  Ivy leaned in to give Kevin a hug. He looked a little stunned but didn’t pull away, reminding Ivy that she’d never hugged her manager before. She’d been in the South too long, she thought with a chuckle. “’Night, Kevin.”

  “How do we get to his office from here?” Dominick asked.

  Pointing to the nearby band building, Ivy said, “That’s the side entrance to the band room. We can cut through there.”

  Dominick made a path with his mere presence, easily escorting Ivy to the door and inside the school. They navigated through the maze of hallways, finally arriving at Blake’s makeshift office.

  There was a paper sign on the door that said COACH CHAMBERLAIN over the PRIVATE sign of what was normally the teacher prep room. The door had no windows, so Ivy couldn’t tell if he was done with his interview or not.

  Leaning her ear to the heavy wood door, she couldn’t hear any voices. She reached for the knob, finding it unlocked. Dominick waited to the side as she pushed the door open and stuck her head inside.

  Ivy didn’t remember the breaking of her heart making a noise the first time, but this time, there was literally a sound. It was the deafening shatter of her guitar falling to the ground, mingled with her own gasp.

  Blake was not in his office with a journalist. He was in there with Lydia. A mostly nude Lydia.

  Ivy couldn’t speak. Lydia had been telling the truth all this time. How was that possible? Her eyes just kept darting around the room, waiting to see something that made sense. The round cheeks of Lydia’s ass hanging out of those red lace panties certainly didn’t make sense. Nor did the fact that Blake’s hands were on her bare skin.