“You had some chocolate on your lip,” I offered by way of explanation.
Pink tinged her cheeks as she reached for a napkin.
“Don’t worry. I got it,” I said with a smirk. Then I licked the crumbs from my fingertip. “Delish.”
She didn’t say anything, just shook her head at me in fake disbelief. Then we turned our attention to a rerun of Tempted in Paradise, a reality TV show to test the strength of several couples’ love against the temptation of some hot singles.
“I don’t know if even half of these couples are going to last the month,” she said, keeping her gaze locked on the TV screen.
“Some of them didn’t need to go on the show to find out they didn’t have what it took to go the distance in love,” I said, then drained the last drops from my cup.
“You’re probably right. I mean Jay cheated years ago on Emery. She forgave him but doesn’t quite trust him. She’s hoping this situation will give him the chance to prove his loyalty to her. But I think the odds are stacked against him,” Willa observed.
“And take Lainey and Deac, they seem like a solid couple. Why in the world would they put themselves through this?” I couldn’t fathom potentially wrecking what appeared to be a great relationship.
Willa shrugged. “I have no idea. But I bet it will make for good TV.”
“For sure.” I stretched my legs out in front of me and got comfortable.
We settled in to watch. For the next hour we gasped and laughed in unison as we watched the drama unfold. When the credits rolled, I wasn’t ready to leave, but I knew I had to so I wouldn’t be late for the meeting.
“Well, I need to head out.” I straightened from the chair.
Willa stood too. “Good luck with your meeting. Make sure you visit again soon so you can let me know how it went.”
I bent to grab my guitar and slung it against my back. When I stood back up, Willa had stepped a little closer. “I’ll definitely be back to see you. I am responsible for you since I saved you. Besides, there’s no one else for me to watch crazy reality TV with.”
She rocked on her heels nervously. “Thanks for breakfast and coming to visit me. You made my day.” She wrapped her arms around my torso.
I reveled in her embrace. My fingers stroked involuntarily through her hair, recalling the silky texture from our shared night. I longed to keep holding her, never letting go. But all too soon, Willa became aware that our hug had passed the length of time appropriate for strangers. Awkwardly, she shuffled back.
♪ My Heart I Surrender by I Prevail
“Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’d never turn down a hug from you.” I clamped my lips shut lest I say too much.
“Rock their socks off today. For me.” Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
“I plan to.” Rock their socks off. For her. She had no idea how much today was for her. Because of her. “Bye, Willa. I’ll talk to you later.” I saluted her and headed to the door.
“Bye, Trystan.”
As I floated down the hallway to the elevator, I couldn’t stop the joy that swelled in my chest from just having spent the morning with her.
A little later, I stood on the sidewalk outside the massive steel and glass building with the Matthews’ Melodies logo at the top. It was surreal being there, standing outside a place where magic happened. My neck ached from staring up at the skyscraper towering above me.
“You ready, man?” Nix yelled as he and Rafe strolled toward me.
“I was born ready.” I fist-bumped each of them.
“Let’s do this,” Rafe said and marched to the revolving door.
Mack was waiting for us in the lobby, an eager expression on his face. “So glad you guys could make it.” He exchanged handshakes with each of us. “We’ve got a kit set up in studio fourteen. Do you have your sticks?” he asked Rafe.
Rafe tugged them from his back pocket. “Don’t leave home without them.” He air-drummed the space between him and Mack.
“Spoken like a real drummer,” Mack said with a laugh. He started leading us down a long, gleaming hallway to a bank of elevators. “I see you have your guitar, Trystan. And you’ve got your bass, Nix. There are already amps in there you can plug into.”
We boarded the waiting elevator. Mack swiped an access card along the panel and then pushed the button for the seventh floor.
I breathed deeply to calm my nerves. It was really happening. We were about to officially play our music in a recording studio.
The elevator doors slid open soundlessly.
“Right this way, gentlemen,” Mack said and indicated the carpeted hall to the left.
We passed several doors before Mack stopped in front of door labeled fourteen. Inside was a decent-sized soundproof studio. A drum kit was erected on a platform in the back corner while microphones and amps were positioned around the area. Attached to the studio was an impressive looking sound booth with two technicians already inside waiting for us.
After the introductions were made, which I was halfway zoned out for, Mack helped us get set up.
Once we were situated, Mack said, “All right, guys, just pretend we’re not here. The tracks we’re laying down today aren’t formal. They’re just to give the powers that be a taste of what Tryst Disrupted can bring to the label.”
“Sounds good,” I said and stepped into position behind the mic.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled and exhaled deeply a couple of times, picturing Willa’s face.
Rafe smacked his sticks together, counting us down. “One, two, three, four.”
I started strumming the notes to one of the originals Mack had heard us perform at Mind Meld. As much as I longed to glance at the window to the sound booth, I refused. We were going to own this moment no matter what the guys in the booth thought. We flowed from one song into the next, following the set order we’d agreed upon last night.
Not a note was missed or lyric flubbed. Rafe was spot on with each strike of his sticks.
After what felt like no time at all, we’d reached my favorite song of the set—Willa’s song. I played with everything in my heart, all the things I wasn’t allowed to voice directly. The instruments dropped out as I sang the last lines acapella, “Will a love find me? Will a love set me free?”
As the sound faded from the room, I slipped my guitar off and turned to the guys. The grins on their faces matched exactly what I felt. We’d been perfect.
Mack sauntered into the room. “Guys, that was …” He paused for dramatic effect or for time to seek out the right description. The three of us exchanged worried glances while we waited for Mack’s assessment. A huge smirk lifted his lips. “Epic,” he finally finished.
My heart swooped in relief. He liked us.
“I loved all of the songs, especially that last one. It’s so raw and filled with emotion, but still catchy enough that I know it will be a hit.”
“You really think so?” Nixon asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an uncharacteristic show of exuberance.
I still hadn’t found my voice. I was still stunned.
“Absolutely. I want you guys to come in and use one of the studios to practice for a few days. We’ll get you access cards and add you to security’s approved list so you can come in and play whenever works with your schedule. Late next week, we’ll actually record a couple of the tracks that you’ve really tightened up so I can use them to pitch the band to the execs. That sound OK?” Mack asked.
“Sounds great. Thanks for the chance,” I said, finally finding words.
17
Willa
“Anybody home?” Sydney called from the door.
“Hey you.” I smiled brightly at her. I hadn’t been too long woken up from a nap, so my head wasn’t aching.
“I figured you might be bored out of your mind.” She smiled brightly. The fabric of her dress swished as she walked in. It was one of he
r first signature designs.
“I am so bored. The hospital really needs to spring for better cable.” After Trystan had left, only talk shows and soap operas were on.
“And better food?” She held up a paper bag. The logo was from the deli next to the boutique. We ordered from there at least twice a week without fail.
Eagerly, I took the bag and lifted out a wrapped club sandwich. Once I opened it, I sank my teeth into the soft sourdough bread, Syd’s favorite. But I wasn’t going to complain. It beat the gray meatloaf I’d barely touched earlier.
I moaned around the second bite.
“I couldn’t remember all the changes you normally make to their club. But I figured even wrong, it’d be better than mystery meat and unseasoned vegetables.” Syd took a healthy bite of her pastrami sandwich.
“It’s delicious.” My words were muffled by the sandwich still plastered to my mouth.
“Sorry I didn’t get to come by yesterday. Dealing with the shipments and sorting the new inventory took longer than normal without you there to organize things.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
“It’s OK. I had lots of tests, so I wasn’t in the room much. I can’t wait to get back to work, to feel normal again.” I twisted open the bottle of lemonade Syd had brought to go with my sandwich.
“Did the tests help you remember anything?” she asked, hope tinging her tone.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure they’re really meant to. More like help me cope with what I can’t recall. Anyway, I went through the calendar on my phone. I saw all the meetings we had with suppliers, but I can’t remember the deals we worked out or what the spring line is supposed to look like. And I see appointments with different vendors for my wedding. But I don’t know whether I picked ivory or cream for the invitations. Gold or silver print? Did I go with the salmon or the steak for the dinner? And what about my dress? Did I pick the ball gown Mom loved or the less ornate one that took my breath away? Syd, I can’t remember any of it. There are no pics on my phone of my choices. Everything must be in the cloud to keep Cade from stumbling on them, but I must have changed my password because I can’t access my cloud,” my voice rose in pitch as hysteria increased. Air rushed in and out of my lungs now that I’d finally stopped rambling. My fingers had squished my sandwich during my little tirade. I dropped it to my napkin while I tried to get ahold of myself.
Syd’s face flickered with emotion. She looked conflicted. “Take a deep breath. Come on. In … and out,” she ordered, slowly breathing with me until I’d calmed down. “I think you texted me pics of most of your choices. I don’t see any harm in me sending them back to you since you’re going to probably need to meet with your vendors, and they’ll share your selections with you.” She smiled reassuringly at me.
She dug her phone out and started tapping away, sending the images to my phone.
My phone pinged with each new message. “Thanks,” I said. Relief flooded through me now that I’d have at least some answers.
Briefly, I glanced down at the patchwork of photos filling my screen. I turned it over. I’d go through them later.
“Do you know if I changed my password on my cloud?” I asked my best friend with a frown.
She pursed her lips, seeming to consider something before answering. “You did. It was the night before the attack.”
“I know I texted you that night and then you called me. What did I do? Why was I considering calling off the wedding?” I pleaded desperately.
Syd looked so torn. “You know I’m not supposed—”
“To tell me. I know.” I sighed heavily then picked my mangled lunch back up and took a bite. It tasted like sawdust in my mouth. I forced it down anyway and sipped some more lemonade. “Cade said he forgives me and that we can move forward because we love each other. But what if I did something I can’t forgive myself for?”
Syd reached out and clasped my hand. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Willa, you know what kind of person you are. What kind of heart you have. You know you’d never do something unforgiveable.”
I squeezed her hand. “I really hope so. Things would be so much better if I could just remember.” I pounded my free fist against the mattress.
“You will,” she said vehemently.
“Promise me something.” I clutched her fingers even more tightly.
“Anything,” she said without hesitation.
“If I don’t remember by the time I’m supposed to walk down the aisle, you’ll fill me in. I won’t be able to start the new chapter in my life with the uncertainty hanging over my head, over my marriage.” My gaze implored her to agree.
Syd took a deep breath. A silent argument passed across her features. “I promise. I won’t let you get married without knowing the truth. I’d never let you make a mistake like that.” She shook her head, clearly upset over the thought of me marrying without all the facts.
Her last sentence filled my gut with dread. She’d never been a fan of Cade’s, but she’d never said marrying him would be a mistake.
Until now.
“Thanks.” I shifted to pull her into a hug, and the movement made me wince.
“You OK?” Syd asked, worry making her chew on her lower lip. “I can call for the nurse.”
“I’m fine. Just haven’t gotten used to moving without aggravating these cracked ribs.” I rubbed my hand across the bulky bandage that was supposed to protect my damaged parts.
“So, did you have more tests today?” She eased back and returned to the remainder of her sandwich.
“No. I’m supposed to meet with a therapist who specializes in amnesia patients this afternoon. Oh,” I said, snapping my fingers, “that guy who saved me, Trystan? He stopped by this morning.”
A smirk played on her lips. “Oh, really? How was his visit?”
“Good. It’s so strange.” I shook my head, still in disbelief myself. “I know he’s just a good Samaritan, but …”
“But what?” She leaned forward like she always did when she wanted to make sure she didn’t miss a word I said.
“But it feels like we’re connected.” I held up my hand to halt whatever explanation she was going to offer. “And it’s not just because he saved me. It feels like we know each other. I know I sound crazy. But the man brought me my favorite meal the other day … down to the sides. And while we ate, he found The Little Mermaid on TV for us to watch. What guy does that?”
Syd leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “Sounds like he’s pretty special.”
“Yeah. I think he is. This morning he brought two of the most delicious muffins for us to share. And they’re exactly the flavors I would’ve ordered for myself. He even watched Tempted in Paradise with me, and you can’t even stand that show. Oh, and you’ll never guess what he’s doing right now.”
“Tell me.”
A triumphant grin lifted my lips. She was going to love this. “He’s in a band, and they’re meeting with a record label today.”
A knock on the door halted our conversation.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door eased open, and an Asian woman in a white coat stepped inside. “Hi, Willa. I’m Dr. Sunny Li. You can call me Sunny. Is now a good time to talk?”
Dr. Askew had told me that Dr. Li would be coming to visit me today to try to help me deal with my memory loss in a productive way.
“She’s got nothing but time. I need to head out. Lunch break’s over. My boss is a slave driver. I’ll see you later, chick.” Sydney leaned over and gave me a tight hug.
Sydney shut the door behind her. Dr. Li pulled up a seat and offered me her hand. Her handshake was warm and firm, something solid in what was sure to be a sea of frustration that we’d be wading through.
“I don’t know exactly what Dr. Askew told you about me, but I’m kind of like a counselor. I’ve worked with a lot of people who’ve experienced memory loss. We’ll discuss some common frustrations, ways to cope with the missing information in your life, how to
let others know you don’t remember things, and some other stuff. But first, I want you to tell me what’s been the hardest part of this ordeal,” Dr. Li said in a soft tone I was sure was meant to make me feel at ease.
“Everything about losing six months of memories is inconvenient since I’d been planning my wedding during that timeframe,” I started.
“I could see where that could be annoying. But thankfully, much of the details are probably on record with each of the businesses you worked with,” Dr. Li said reassuringly.
“Yeah, I imagine they are. But the thing I’m struggling the most with is that I’m worried I forgot something major … something life-altering.” I twisted the sheet in my fingers, winding it in between them over and over.
Dr. Li jotted something down in her notepad. “What do you think it could possibly be?”
I frowned, forcing my mind to try to recall what had remained just beyond my reach. “I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling I have. And my fiancé, Cade, hinted that I’d called off our engagement recently because of something I’d done. He told me he forgave me and still loved me, so I must have done something to need forgiveness from.” I looked up from my lap, hoping to find answers in the doctor’s expression. Instead, I only found sympathy.
“I suggest you examine your heart and mind. You know what kind of character you are on the inside. Those things don’t change overnight. The odds are you didn’t do something major that you wouldn’t have done before. Stressing about whatever is it definitely will not bring the memories back.” She scribbled something else on the notepad.
“Why can’t I just let everyone in my life tell me what I’ve forgotten?” I threw up my hands in exasperation.
“Willa, if everyone fills you in, you’ll get their perceptions and color on the events rather than your own. And what if two people give you conflicting accounts? It’s better to let what you’ve forgotten return naturally,” she explained logically.
“I guess I can understand that. It’s just so frustrating. I just want to throw something or beat the memories back in place or something.”
Memory of a Melody Page 10
