“Ohhh…then why are you here?” she giggled.
“Because I have to work with him, Grace! Jeez, doesn’t anybody understand that? I don’t need things getting complicated. And this job really is a lot of work, and it's so stressful. There are a million things to take care of, way more than I could have ever anticipated there being.
“Then you add the stress of trying to keep your boss at arm’s length. It’s just...ugh! I really don't need to be on an emotional rollercoaster with Owen Young on top of everything else.” I turned my attention to the stage to watch the next performance and let her know I wasn’t about to discuss it any further. She took the hint, and we both watched the next few performances without discussing work or Owen.
By the time it was my turn, I had long finished my third beer and was feeling a decent buzz. There was a good bit of liquid courage flowing through my veins by the time they called my name. Getting a pat on the back and “good luck” from Grace, I headed straight up to the stage, feeling confident. They had an older, baby grand piano, but it was still in good condition. I’d played it a few other times at open mic night, so placing my fingers along the ivory felt comfortable.
I sat on the bench and adjusted the microphone stand before starting in on a song. It was one I’d written a while back, one of my favorites. I got lost in the music as my fingers pressed down gracefully on the keys. I’ve always felt at home up on the stage, just losing myself in the beauty and intensity of the music, just feeling every ounce of my being connecting with the notes and the lyrics and the soul of the song. I closed my eyes, the words flowing fluidly along with the melody as I poured my heart into the song and let the music carry all of my troubles to a place beyond me. I didn’t even notice how silent the room had grown while I was singing.
When I finished, I opened my eyes and looked up at the silent room, scared for a moment, until cheers, whistles, and hoots broke out. I smiled, Owen far from my mind, absolutely content.
Chapter Seventeen
Owen
Being rejected by Nalia only seemed to make me want her more. It confused me, intrigued me, and drove me nuts at the same time. It wasn’t something that happened to me too often. Or really at all, for that matter. Usually, I was the one doing the rejecting. Maybe that was why the whole thing was so frustrating.
I shook my head, pressed my fingertips against my temples, and glanced back down at her text. The Barfly. I hadn’t been there before, but I was sure I could find it.
Fuck it, I thought. I’m going after her. I had wanted to play it cool, given we were about to go on tour, but I didn’t want to spend the night alone or in anyone else’s arms. I knew I would totally be breaking the pact we had made about not having a physical relationship with the assistant—again—but I couldn't care less about that at the moment. There was no other woman I could imagine being with.
I doubted any other woman could satisfy me like she had, anyway. I doubted they had a chance of coming even close to making me feel the way Nalia made me feel. Hell, the thoughts of her moans alone drove me bat-shit crazy.
I headed out to my car, typing the name of the bar into the GPS as I walked. It was a good thirty-minute drive, but that was not something that concerned me much. I’d much rather make a bit of a drive and at least see her than simply head straight home to a large, empty bed that only made me think of her on yet another lonely night. No, there had been far too many of those already, and I was getting pretty damn tired of it. I wanted her, and that was all there was to it.
The drive went by quickly, and I walked into the bar intending to stay toward the back and search the room for her. Finding her, however, didn’t seem to be much of a problem.
She was on stage, sitting at a baby grand piano. I was taken aback by how stunning she looked up there under the lights that shone just so, giving her hair an almost angelic aura. They sparkled on her skin. I couldn't help but stare at her, completely mesmerized.
When she started playing, all of my thoughts fell silent as soon as I heard the effortless melody and that velvety voice of hers. She sounded amazing. I couldn't remember when I had last been so blown away by anyone in a musical sense. I suddenly remembered she’d mentioned playing, but I hadn’t thought about it much and certainly had no idea just how talented she was.
Just watching how feverishly she got into her playing struck a chord with me. Not only was the song soothing, but it was also as beautiful and moving as she was. I could tell by the way she performed it that she had written the song. It didn't just have her name and touch written all over it, it was her—it was an extension of her.
Suddenly, I realized something about this woman; she was just like me — stuck in a life that doesn’t make sense because music was her world, it was her heart and soul, it was the blood that her heart pumped through her veins. I knew because I felt the same way when I played. I’d never been so ready to get back out of the office and on the road as I when I first played with the band again, and it seemed she had similar desires.
It was strange to watch; I couldn’t recall ever coming across another person who seemed to feel the music with as much passion as I did. It was something that had come as a bit of a surprise to me when the band had made it big, and I began to meet more people in the music industry. I had even dated a famous pop star once that I kind of expected to have that connection with musically, and she’d had an amazing voice, but she had been far more about the image and the fame than the music itself. Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last too long.
Watching Nalia on stage, I could tell right away that she was entirely different. It was easy to see that music was like religion to her, or something even more than a religion. It was the essence of who she was.
I smiled, watching her as she finished and those beautiful brown eyes opened back up, surveying her audience like someone who had just woken up from a trance or had just had their eyes opened to a beautiful truth. People began applauding and cheering. I could tell it wasn't just polite applause and praise; it was genuine amazement. The crowd totally loved her. They could see her passion and talent as clearly as I could, and they were totally impressed.
A look of absolute contentment spread across her face, making her absolutely breathtaking. Carefully, she exited the stage, a broad smile on her face as she headed to a table where a friend was waiting. I simply sat and watched her in silence, still in awe of her amazing, soulful performance. Just when I had thought she couldn't surprise me anymore, she had done just that.
Without hesitation, I headed straight over to her, slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her toward the dance floor as music began to play. Her friend let out a gasp and stared after us, but I paid her no mind. I pulled Nalia against me, moving in rhythm with her as a slow song played. She stared up at me in shock.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” I told her honestly, as I slipped my arms around her waist. She narrowed her eyes at me but slid her arms around my neck. “I didn’t know you played the piano so well,” I smiled at her. “What else can you play?”
A slow grin turned up the corners of her perfect lips. “You.”
Chapter Eighteen
Nalia
I couldn’t believe that Owen had shown up. He was saying all the right things, and I was feeling pretty high from the elation of playing my heart out on stage—not to mention kinda buzzed from the drinks I'd had—but that still didn’t mean I was just going to give in to what I was fairly certain he was there for.
With a smile, I shook my head as he tried to get me to dance, and I pulled away from him and headed back toward the table and Grace, who was staring at me wide-eyed. She was apparently in as much shock as I was that Owen was there. I didn’t have to look back to know he was right on my trail. Why had he driven all the way to my side of the city? Judging from the time since I'd responded to his message and when he'd shown up and surprised me, he must have left soon after receiving my text. The question I wasn’t quite so sure about was...why?