“Where do you think you’re going?” Mark stops me before I can leave the building.
“I’ve thought about it. I can’t work for you,” I say as I slide my phone into my back pocket.
He laughs—short and curt—before saying, “What do you mean? We had a deal. I would hate to publish the pictures and video I have of you.”
“Oh, I know you won’t.” And I don’t bother explaining further because I know Ethan’s got me.
And with those words, I walk out the glass doors, not bothering to look back.
Chapter 11
Sydney
* * *
“It’s a full house out there,” Callie says with a big smile on her face.
I run my sweaty palms down my dress. Everyone in Harmony is here tonight, waiting to see me, because my father tweeted an invitation to the town, telling them I’d be performing at an open mic night. This is another reason I’d never want to be famous. There’s no way I could perform for millions of people. Especially when my heart is in a gazillion tiny pieces.
“I can’t do this,” I tell Callie, turning to escape out the back door.
She grabs my arm. “Are you kidding? Your songs are brilliant. Sing them for your father.” She smiles wider. “For everyone.”
I’m sick to my stomach. “I can’t. I just miss him a ton.”
She wraps her arms around me. “I know you do, sweetie. But he wasn’t a good guy.”
Tears fill my eyes. “You’re right, but I sure wanted him to be.”
“I wanted him to be too.”
“It’s silly,” I say, moving out of her embrace. “But I could see a life with him. I really think we would have been good together.”
Callie gives me a look of pity. “Listen, forget about him. Just go out there and sing your heart out. You have an amazing voice and soul-touching lyrics. Everyone’s going to love you.”
I give Callie another hug, grateful to have her in my life. “Thank you. You’d better go if you want a seat.”
“Your dad and grandma are saving me one. Break a leg,” she says as she gives me yet another hug.
“Stop hugging me already and go.” I squeeze her tight and then release her.
She hurries away and when I hear my name called by the announcer, I make my way on stage. The bright lights make it hard to see the crowd before me, which is best. I know my father is out there somewhere, and that thought brightens the darkness that’s lingered inside of me since the day Tobias walked away.
I adjust the microphone and smile. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. Now, this is a song I just wrote a few days ago.” The lights go down, and a lone spotlight in the back of the club lights up, allowing me to see the crowd. My father, Gran, and Callie sit in the front row, all beaming from ear to ear.
I’m grateful they’re here, but melancholy seeps into my bones when I sing the first lyric about meeting someone in the most unusual way. I gaze at the spotlight, trying to hide myself in the brightness of it. Even though I’m in front of a large crowd, I still feel lost somehow. I will not cry on stage. I will not cry while I sing. No matter how much everything hurts.
I belt out the chorus about loving someone you just met. About how a grand love when lost can hurt so painfully you relive the pain over and over.
After the song, and I’ve poured my heart out, I head into the crowd to sit with my family. My father hugs me, telling me how proud he is of me. It actually makes me feel a bit better.
I will not cry.
“We have a late addition to the roster,” the emcee says.
The lights dim, and I debate on whether I should just head home or stay here and enjoy the night out. Before I can make up my mind, a soft blue spotlight hits the man on stage, and I gasp.
Tobias stands there with a microphone in his hand.
Is he going to sing?
“Hi, everyone,” he says to the crowd, and then his blue eyes land on me. “I’m not a great singer, and I’m an even worse song writer, but I’ve put something together. I hope you don’t hate it too much.” He winks at me. “This one’s for you, Sydney.”
A tune plays through the stage speakers, and Tobias sings the first few words, “I was an idiot to leave.”
I listen in rapt fascination as he belts out lyrics he wrote himself.
“I should have never went and saw a man about a horse. I should have found you instead.”
His voice isn’t half-bad, but it’s not his voice I’m listening to. I’m hearing the words he’s saying just to me. He sings about how he screwed things up, and how he’ll forever love me. By the end of the song I’m in tears, and my father nudges me as the crowd cheers.