by Loree Lough
“Why, I, um, it’s... I wanted to see you. Because I missed you. And I was awake half the night, thinking about how lonesome you sounded on the phone...”
If she’d heard anything, it had been frustration—at himself—for not being able to get Lillie out of his head.
“...so I thought I’d make sure you had a good meal tonight, and tomorrow while you’re working, I’ll do some shopping. All my crazy work hours added up, so believe me, I can afford some time off and a spree! When you’re finished at the studio, we can have dinner, maybe take a walk on the beach.”
He’d never experienced this much closeness. Well, that wasn’t true. When he and Lillie were a thing, they’d spent ten or twelve hours a day together, sometimes more, if an out-of-town gig required a long drive. With her, he’d never felt smothered, hadn’t looked for excuses to spend time away from her.
Why did he feel the opposite with Whitney?
“I know how you treasure your privacy, so I reserved my own room.” Standing again, Whitney walked to the desk and returned with a pale blue box, tied with a black ribbon. “I spent hours online last night,” she said, untying it, “and discovered this fabulous bakery.” Lifting the lid, she showed him the cheesecake inside.
His favorite. She’d known that, too, and she knew it because she’d paid attention. If someone asked about her favorite dessert, he wouldn’t have been able to answer. It wasn’t fair. He had to do something, something for her.
Something his mother had said echoed in his mind: I pray every night that Whitney is the woman who’ll make your heart skip a beat, who’ll take your breath away. That she’ll make you smile, just by walking into a room.
Lillie had left him long before she boarded the train to New York. She’d made her choice, and it hadn’t been him. If he blocked her from his mind, from his heart, maybe he had a chance at a happy future with Whitney.
Jase went to her side of the table and brought her to her feet. “You’re pretty amazing, you know?”
“So are you.”
He kissed her and waited for that weak-in-the-knees sensation his mom had described. When it didn’t happen, he kissed her again, and as he had before, put everything he had into it, hoping it would ignite a spark that would even come close to what he’d shared with Lillie.
Again, nothing, and Whitney must have sensed it.
“I should get to my room,” she said, stepping back. “You have an early morning.”
“What about the cheesecake?”
Turning, she replaced the lid, crossed the room and put the box into the minifridge. “It’ll keep until tomorrow. We’ll skip dessert at the restaurant.”
“Sounds good.” Jase pocketed his hands. “What about breakfast?”
“I’m on vacation. You have to get up at six to make your eight o’clock show, but I don’t!”
His heart wasn’t in it when he laughed. “Where’s your room?”
“Three down and across the hall.”
He grabbed the key card from the dresser. “I’ll walk you.”
“Jason, I’m perfectly capable of getting there on my own.”
There it was, that independent streak. Just like Lillie’s. “Of course you can. Just humor me.”
“Okay, if you insist.”
She’d always been easy to get along with, too. Just like Lillie.
Arm in arm, Jase and Whitney made their way down the hall.
“Call me after you finish up tomorrow,” she said, standing in the open doorway.
“Will do.”
No more than twelve inches separated them, so why did it feel like a mile?
She bussed his cheek. “Get some sleep. The way you’re behaving, I think you need it,” Whitney said as the door clicked shut.
He waited until the bolt slid into place before making his way back to his room, where the table setting reminded him how far she was willing to go to please him.
What was wrong with him? He wanted to love her. So why couldn’t he do something about it!
His mother’s suspicions had been on-target, that despite the way things had ended between him and Lillie, despite all she’d done to him, despite his efforts to put what they’d had behind him, he still loved her.
Was he holding on to Whitney as insurance in case Lillie had decided that the only way to stay clean was to distance herself from him?
Jase didn’t want to be that guy, the one who thought only of himself, who thought only of his own needs. That guy was worse than a heel. Worse than a jerk.
It was time to make some changes. Big changes.
Because Whitney deserved better than that guy.
CHAPTER SIX
“WE SHOULD FRAME your arm!” Sally’s dad said. “That’s as good as anything I’ve seen at the Walters!”
Baltimore’s famed art museum had exhibited all of the greats. His words were flattering, but really, what else could he say with Lillie standing beside his happy little girl?
“She brought her guitar this time,” Sally said, climbing into her dad’s lap. “She already sang, though.”
The man towered over Lillie. “My girl went on and on about you last time you visited, so I’m sorry I missed your performance.” Extending a hand, he said, “I’m Brant Perry, and it’s a genuine pleasure to meet you.”
She felt the heat of a blush. “Oh, it was hardly a performance. I just went from bed to bed for the children who couldn’t come to the playroom, then sang in here for the kids who could.”
“She likes it when we sing along,” Sally said. “It’s so fun!”
Brant sent Lillie an apologetic smile. “I’d planned to be here but got stuck in traffic. I’m really disappointed.”
“Me, too,” Jason said. “I had to leave so the nurse could flush my IV.”
It seemed there was an echo in the room as one after another, the children and parents in the playroom agreed.
“Could you stay a little longer, Lillie,” Brant asked, “for those of us who weren’t here to hear you?”
“I’ve already overstayed my time limit by nearly half an hour, and the rec director made it clear on my first day that I need to stick to the schedule so the kids won’t miss medications, meals and rest.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Jason’s mom said. “If the director says anything, we’ll make sure she knows we insisted.”
Sally hopped down from her dad’s lap and squeezed Lillie’s hand. “Please, Lillie? Just a couple of songs?”
The rest of the kids joined the chorus: “Please, please, please?”
They reminded her a bit of her twin nieces who, when she’d tucked them in just the other night, had begged and cajoled to squeak an additional fifteen minutes before turning out the lights. She’d been volunteering for only a little more than a month...long enough to know that the children felt caged in by their hospital rooms and beds. If she could buy them a little more time here in the playroom, Lillie would happily risk the director’s reprimand.
“Okay, but some of you are looking kinda peaked, so only a couple of songs...”
Brant and several other parents gave a nod of approval, and while she uncased her guitar, young Jason took control, guiding those in the playroom to sit in a circle, and dragged an adult-sized chair to the top of the big O.
During the fifteen minutes of her mini concert, Lillie felt more like her old self than she had before rehab. Singing to the group while accompanying herself on the guitar was only half the fun. The best feelings came from seeing the light of enjoyment in their eyes. Several nurses, a doctor and two interns had lined up against the back wall, heads bobbing and toes tapping in time to the music. She’d entertained far larger audiences, but these intimate performances were far more gratifying. Only one thing could make it more perfect: having Jase here to harmonize with her.
Afterward, she
packed up and said her goodbyes, and made her way to the elevator. If she went straight home, there’d be plenty of time to make her parents a good old-fashioned spaghetti dinner. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d skipped lunch. Frosted toaster tarts, she admitted, didn’t stick with a body very long.
“Lillie, do you have a minute to talk?”
“Mr. Perry! I didn’t see you there!”
“Sorry if I surprised you. And please, call me Brant.” He handed her a glossy black business card that looked and felt quilted. Beneath bold raised gold letters that spelled out Perry Creative Talent, smaller text said Representing Athletes, Voice-Over Artists & Musicians.
“You’re just a bundle of talent, aren’t you? Voice, guitar, art...”
She’d never learned how to respond to such compliments, so Lillie said a polite thank-you and let it go. Turning the card over, she read his contact information.
“You’re based here in Baltimore?”
One shoulder lifted. “Too much competition in New York, Chicago and LA. There’s more than enough talent—and plenty of work—right here in Charm City.” He rattled off a list of car dealerships, hospitals, banks, and real estate and law firms that needed actors and musicians to perform in their TV ads. He named several Orioles and Ravens team members and college athletes who’d signed with his agency.
“I’m not really in the market for an agent,” she began. Should she tell him that she’d been in rehab as little as a year and a half ago. “It’s been years since I’ve performed solo, so if you’re thinking of hiring me for a company function or family party—”
He laughed, a warm, jovial sound. “No, nothing like that. But my job does put me in close contact with people in the recording industry...people who’ve turned a handful of my clients into household names.”
Brant cited a few examples, and Lillie recognized every name.
“You’re too good to be stuck here, alone.”
“I’m not stuck. I love it here.” Compared to rehab—even a place as ritzy as Rising Sun—Baltimore was paradise.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he went on. “Last thing I’d suggest is that you stop visiting Hopkins. As you’ve probably guessed, I spend a lot of time at the hospital. Trust me. I can say with some authority that what you did here today...” He sighed. “Lillie, believe me, it’s nothing short of miraculous.” He paused. “But you can work this into your schedule, even if you’re on the road.”
“I spent a few years singing in hotel lounges and pubs all over the country. In Canada, too. I loved the work but hated getting to and from each job. And I wasn’t exactly crazy about spending so many hours alone in hotel rooms either.”
The elevator doors opened at last, and a nurse nodded as she passed them on her way up the hall.
“Besides,” Lillie continued, “to quote my dad, aren’t we putting the cart before the horse?”
“Not at all. I’ll set up a meeting, but trust me, that’ll just be a formality. I know this guy and I know what he likes. He’s gonna love you. You’re the whole package—talent, personality, looks...oh, yeah, he’ll love you, all right.”
She knew just enough about the recording industry to understand that everything was a gamble. Even megastars were only as good as their last release. She had worked hard in rehab and wasn’t willing to put it all on the line for a maybe.
“Who is this guy?”
“A producer-manager by the name of Rusty McCoy. He takes new artists, helps them build a platform, introduces them to labels... I have a daughter, too, so trust me when I say I wouldn’t put you together with him if I didn’t think he was a standup guy. Wouldn’t throw you out there all alone on the road either.”
Lillie had been home for only a few months. How could she leave now, just when the people she’d hurt were finally beginning to show signs of believing in her? If she left now, all the hard work she’d put into rehab, into rebuilding relationships... Would it all go by the wayside? Would everyone throw up their hands, thinking “It’s just a matter of time before she starts using again”? Besides, what had she done to deserve a break like this?
“I know it’s a lot to absorb. Tell you what. Take a few days. Take a week, even, to mull things over. What can it hurt? You have my card. Call anytime, and I’ll set something up. But keep in mind that Rusty comes to town every couple of months.”
“He isn’t Baltimore-based?”
“Nashville.”
From the time she was a little girl, Lillie had dreamed of performing in Music City... She glanced at the card again. Brant was right. It couldn’t hurt to think things over.
“Thanks, Mr.—I mean, Brant.” She tucked the card into the front pocket of her purse. “Your idea is very...intriguing.”
“So you’ll give it some thought?”
“Not to be rude, but...what’s in for you?”
As she stepped into the elevator, he said, “The knowledge that I’ve put someone with real talent on the road to stardom.”
The doors closed before she could respond. A good thing, too, because Lillie had no idea what she might have said.
Nonsense, she thought, climbing in behind the wheel of her mother’s car, you know exactly what you’ll tell him...
“It’s all very flattering,” she said to herself, “but I can’t leave Baltimore right now. Maybe never. So thanks, Brant, but no thanks.”
Just in case, though, it couldn’t hurt to buy some new sheet music and learn a few new tunes...
* * *
“CAN I HELP you find anything, sir?”
Jase smiled at the young clerk. “Not really. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything.”
Jase thanked the kid and went back to finger-walking through the standing stacks of sheet music.
He’d heard some great Phil Phillips songs, and decided they’d make a good addition to his repertoire. Moving down the stand, he flipped the P tab and read each title. Smiling, Jase plucked five songs from the rack. He was about to carry the sheets to the cash register when movement on the other side of the display caught his attention.
Lillie, in a bright yellow sundress. The matching headband held her hair back, emphasizing her widow’s peak, and the new off-the-face hairdo made her big eyes stand out even more. A thin veil of moss green shadow glowed from her eyelids, and as she looked down, studying song titles, long dark lashes dusted her sun-pinkened, freckled cheeks.
She must have sensed that someone was watching her, because she glanced up. His heart thudded as she met his eyes.
“Jase...”
“Hey. What’re you doing here?”
Dumb question, he thought, taking note of the sheet music in her hand. This store was where they’d always shopped for new material.
“Just adding to my collection.”
He’d thought the conversation at her folks’ inn had gone pretty well, all things considered. Based on her wavering smile, he guessed he’d been wrong.
Jase held up the sheets he intended to buy. “Same here.”
They both moved toward the cashier’s stand.
“You got to the store first, so go ahead,” she said.
“Yeah, but ladies first.”
The stilted conversation only reminded him how compatible they’d once been.
Disregarding the gloomy thought, Jase peered over her shoulder and read the title on the top of her stack: One Hundred Sing-Along Songs for Kids. Her nieces had loved it when she serenaded them. Had she promised to sing for their upcoming birthday party? He’d been invited to three of those gatherings, and ought to remember if the twins were turning ten or eleven.
The kid who’d offered to help him earlier now pecked keys on the register. “This one’s on sale,” he said, running the book across the scanner screen.
“Are you a kindergarten teacher or something?”
Lillie grinned. “No, nothing like that. I volunteer at Hopkins Children’s Oncology every couple of weeks, and my material is getting stale. Those kids are going through enough without me adding boredom to their lives. Not that they complain. They’re the bravest little souls I’ve ever met.”
Lillie tended to ramble when nervous, and he felt bad that his nearness made her feel that way. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly feeling comfortable either, especially given his decision to give things with Whitney a real chance.
“My cousin was in there a few years ago,” the kid said, sliding another songbook over the screen. “Leukemia won.”
Jase watched as Lillie, ever the caring comforter, lay a hand atop his.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “How old was he?”
“Fourteen.”
How many times had he told her that her heart was bigger than her head? Too many to count.
The cashier bagged her music and hit the register button to ring up her total. “It’s really nice, what you’re doing,” he said, handing her the receipt. “The thing he hated most about that place was how long the days were with nothing to do but watch TV and listen to his monitor beep.”
Jase had to agree... It was a good thing she was doing.
She thanked the kid and turned to face Jase. “Well, it was a nice surprise, seeing you again.”
“Can you hang around a minute, just until I pay for this stuff?”
She looked surprised, and in truth, he’d surprised himself. But he couldn’t just let her leave. Not without finding out more about her work at the hospital. And what, if anything, rehab had inspired her to do about him.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait for you over by the door.”
The kid made small talk with him, too, but Jase barely heard a word as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Silhouetted against the bright sunshine coming through the window, he couldn’t help noticing the way her chin-length hair curled above her shoulders. She used to dress like a tomboy. Sneakers and jeans with comfy T-shirts, like she’d worn to plant flowers that day in her parents’ yard. But that little dress—
