Facing the Music (Rosewood 1)

Blake frowned at her choice of words. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“That you should’ve listened to me in high school when I told you that Ivy was all wrong for you. The quarterback and the head cheerleader are meant to be together—the alphas of our species. If you’d broken it off with her and dated me, your whole life would be different right now. She never would’ve written that song. You would’ve kept that winning streak going and won the Heisman Trophy. You would’ve been drafted by a better football team and would probably still be playing now.”

He also could’ve married Lydia out of high school, gotten her pregnant, dropped out of college, and started working as a car salesman. His life wouldn’t necessarily be the perfect existence she described just by taking Ivy out of the equation. “That’s a pretty egregious stretch.”

Lydia shrugged off his concerns. “Even if it was, we can’t change the past. But we can change the future.” She took a few steps toward him, resting her hand on his biceps. “Come on, Blake. Go with me tomorrow night. We’ll have a great time together just like we always do.”

Blake wouldn’t call any time they spent together great. He wasn’t sure whether Lydia was completely delusional or just didn’t care about their incompatibility. “No, Lydia,” he said. “We’re not going to the dance together. Or to anything else together. You don’t seem to understand. You and I are never going to happen. Like I told you before, you’re a nice lady, but I’m not into you.”

Lydia’s peach skin flushed bright red with anger and her hand dropped limp to her side. “You don’t have to be so cruel, Blake. I get it. You’d rather be with that rock star whore!”

“This has got nothing to do with Ivy, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to her like that.”

“Oh, so you can call her names in the bar and it’s okay, but if I say something, I’m just vindictive and jealous?”

“Your words, not mine, Lydia, but a good choice.” Blake crossed his arms over his chest. If she didn’t move away from his truck in a minute, he was going to move her himself. He was already late for warm-ups.

Lydia’s mouth dropped open in dismay for a moment before she shook her head and smiled. In an instant, it was like the last few minutes had never happened. “I understand you have other plans tomorrow and I’m sorry we can’t go together. I know Ivy is exciting. But remember,” she said, her face growing serious, “she won’t be here long. In a week, she’ll fly off to California and you’ll come back to me. I’m patient. I can wait for you. I’ve waited this long.”

There was a calmness and certainty about her as she spoke that was near frightening.

Finally, she stepped away from his truck, disappearing into the darkness of the park that sprawled in front of him. Before she vanished completely, she stopped and turned back to him. “I know I’m right, Blake. We belong together. And one day, I’m certain we will be.”

Chapter 12

Ivy always loved parade day. She arrived early to check in and prepare for her first time being in the parade itself. There were men dressed as clowns, a group of tiny baton-twirling girls, a float with a throne for the new Miss Rosewood, and easily fifty children in red-and-white marching band uniforms.

Her father looked like he was up to his ears in band kids and their drama. She remembered what it was like the day of a performance. The moment he saw her, he grinned.

“Morning, Peaches. Are you ready for your big parade debut?”

Ivy shrugged. “I just have to smile and wave.”

Trent nodded. “You’ll do great. Will you get to come by today after the parade?”

“I’ll try.”

“You know the game is on,” he added with a smile.

“Yes, but I also have prom tonight, Daddy. That trumps football, remember?”

“I suppose,” he said with a touch of disappointment in his voice.

“Are you taking Mama to the eighties prom?”

At that her father laughed. “I did that already. We were the totally awesome class of 1983, remember?”

“Mr. Hudson?” A teenager with a bass drum stood impatiently nearby.

“I’ll let you get back to work, Daddy.” Ivy leaned in and gave her father a hug.

“See you later, Peaches.”

Ivy checked in with the parade organizers, who pointed her in the direction of her queue location. She headed that way, pausing when she noticed tw

o saddled horses waiting there. Horses. Frowning, she tried to determine if she was in the wrong place. The band was in front of the horses and the fire truck was behind them. There was no other place to go, she realized as a cold sweat broke out across her brow.

Gloria’s words from the planning meeting echoed in her mind. “ . . . we’d like both of you riding in the parade . . .”