Loved by You (10 page)

“Bijou, we’re not here to talk about me.”

“Well, we’re not here to talk about me either, despite what you think.”

He studied her. She couldn’t read his thoughts and that bothered her. It felt like she should know what he was thinking.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said finally. “You tell me why it’s so important for you to prove yourself and I’ll tell you why I went into therapy.”

“I want to prove I’m better than Brice Bryland,” she heard herself say. She covered her mouth, shocked that she said it, and looked at him.

Will’s brow furrowed. “Brice Bryland is a musical hack. Why would you care if you’re better than him?”

“He stole my song.” She swallowed thickly and sat down on the edge of the couch, leaning her elbows on her knees and staring at her hands. “We dated for longer than we should have and during that time I wrote a song about us. He convinced me to record it as a duet but then he recorded it on his own behind my back. But that’s not the worst part.”

“What is?”

She looked at Will, hearing a hint of something in his voice she couldn’t identify. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn it was jealousy. “Brice stole my magic. I haven’t been able to write since. The label fired me for breach of contract, and I’ve spent the past year trying to get it back.”

“Your parents—”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to ride on their coattails, but it’s expected to a certain degree. I mean, I can’t get away from the fact that I’m Anson and Lara’s daughter, but I want to rise to the top because of my own skills. The label is going to be at this concert, and it’s my chance to show them what they’ve lost. They’ll take me back if they see I’m back on top.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “But do you really want a label that didn’t have your back to sign you up again? What makes you think they won’t dump you at the next sign of adversity?”

“Ouch.” She winced. “Don’t pull your punches, Doc. Tell it to me like it is.”

“It’s how I roll.” He grinned, and her heart stopped. As she tried to breathe again, he asked, “What’s your plan if your former label doesn’t come through?”

“That’s not an option,” she replied firmly. Not even the fact that she hadn’t been able to write for a year was going to stop her.

“So you’re going to bulldoze your way into success.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He shrugged. “It’s certainly a lot of work.”

“My path is mostly carved out. I just have to clear the brush.”

“Paths change.” He stretched his legs out, straightened his pant legs. “I used to be a musician, you know, but I helped a friend of mine who had issues with stage fright get over it, and I realized I liked that. So I went to school and got my degree. I still love music, but this is my calling. I make a difference in the world in a way I never did playing guitar, though I still get to do that, too.”

“You picked a different path,” she concluded.

“Exactly.”

An alarm chimed softly.

“Our time’s up,” he said, standing up.

“You sound reluctant instead of relieved.” She picked up her purse and followed him to the door.

“I enjoy talking to you.” He took her hand. “I actually like you, too.”

She looked in his eyes and something zapped her right in the middle of her chest.

“To be clear,” he said softly, “you don’t want to be my patient.”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, her voice breathy.

“Good.” His gaze lowered to her lips, and he leaned toward her.

He was going to kiss her.

Her lips parted, and her heart hammered.

But she jerked herself back. Bad idea. He was a therapist now, but he was a musician at heart. She couldn’t chance being distracted that way again. The last time had set her back catastrophically.

She stepped backward, bumping into the door. “I should go. I need to, um, do something.”

He smiled, opening the door for her, still holding her hand. As she slipped past him, he held her back. “Bijou, your magic was never gone. You’re trying hard for something you already have.”

“My label doesn’t think so.”

“Record execs are idiots. Anyone looking at you can tell you’re made of magic.”

She swallowed thickly, at a loss for words at the complete faith she saw in his expression.

Oh hell.
She grabbed his shirt and kissed him, a quick brush against his lips that left her wanting more. Much, much more.

She turned and strode out before she could give in. She didn’t need to get distracted, especially by an ex-musician who was her sister’s would-be therapist, no matter how attractive and sweet he was.

Chapter Eleven

KT drummed her fingers on the decrepit piano. “Are you going to play or what,
Spike
?”

Ashley just studied her chipped black nail polish.

“Being a teenager is sucky,” KT said. “I’m pretty sure I was a bitch back then, too.”

The look the kid gave her clearly said, “Just back then
?
”

“You’re right. I was a great teenager actually.” She nodded to the piano. “I practiced my scales.”

“Yeah, right,” Ashley muttered, flicking a piece of nail polish onto the keys.

“Hey.” KT leaned in, angry now, and got in the teenager’s face. “You never disrespect your instrument. This piano is an extension of you. Treating it badly is like treating yourself badly. I don’t care if you never give me, or anyone else, any respect, but you never treat the piano that way.”

Ashley blinked in shock. “Fine. Geez. Back off.”

Glaring, KT pointed at the keys. “Play.”

She must have scared the kid a little because Ashley began to peck out a surly rendition of C-major. Better than nothing, she supposed, wincing at a particularly violent note.

“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Ashley muttered.

“I don’t either. What am I doing here?”

The teenager glanced at her. “You mean besides making my life hell?”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure you can find lots of volunteers to torment you.” KT crossed her arms. “Gwen said you wanted to learn the piano. Either you do or you don’t. Which is it?”

“I do,” was the eventual sullen reply. “Real things, not baby stuff like scales.”

“You have to be able to walk before you can dance. Scales are walking. You’re the one who wanted to learn to play the piano.”

The kid gave her a sidelong glare. “I wanted a real teacher.”

“Yeah, well, you got me, Spike.” She grinned evilly.

Ashley made a face and banged on the keys, albeit more gently than she had been. “I don’t know why I’m bothering with this. You’re just going to leave.”

She felt a pang of guilt at that truth. “Who said I was going to leave?”

“Everyone leaves.” Ashley shrugged as she started playing the scale over again. “Adults never keep their promises.”

Who’d run out on this kid? KT studied the girl’s profile, for the first time seeing the fragile hurt hidden behind the attitude and makeup.

She really didn’t want to identify with the kid, but she couldn’t help herself. The teenager was just as conscious of being judged as KT was, only instead of retreating the way KT did, Ashley hit everyone over the head with her uniqueness.

“You know what I promise you?” KT said finally.

“What?”

“To whoop your ass if you don’t play C-major properly.” She shook her head. “But, hey, it’s amazing how you’re able convey teen angst in every note. I don’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but her lips pulled tight like she was trying not to smile.

KT threw her arms in the air. “The apocalypse is nigh!”

“What?” Ashley looked at her like she was insane.

“The apocalypse must be approaching, because you’re almost smiling.”

The kid rolled her eyes again, but this time as she began her scales, they were softer and more melodic with breathing and emotion that wasn’t bordering on fury.

It was good—really good.

KT sat up and paid attention. Ashley’s hand positioning sucked, but some great pianists had wonky positioning. It was the tone that mattered, and Ashley was coaxing the sorry-excuse-for-a-piano to sing like an angel.

“That’s not bad,” KT said, underplaying how impressed she felt.

“Like I care what you think,” Ashley mumbled, her head lowered.

Only the girl had to care. No one played boring scales like that if they were indifferent. KT had hated practicing her scales when she was a kid.

The teenager looked up at her with a scowl. “What are you staring at?”

She had the urge to hug the kid, which would have weirded them both out, so instead she said, “I’m staring at a brat who can’t play C-major. Want to try A-minor? It’s totally mournful, like you.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed. “You’re wretched.”

“And you’re stuck with me, so deal.” She crossed her arms and waited.

Ashley heaved a sigh. “Fine. Show me A-minor.”

Hiding a triumphant smile, KT launched into a convoluted explanation of minor chord progressions that was sure to drive the teenager insane. It was the little pleasures that made life sweet.

KT shook her head as she left the Purple Elephant. She’d never have expected it, but they’d actually had a good session. Surprisingly, Ashley tolerated the lecture.

Not just tolerated—the girl may have pretended to be disinterested but KT could tell she was paying attention. She’d gotten so into the discussion that she forgot about irritating the teenager and launched into a discussion about theory. Ashley had soaked it all up like a sponge.

It’d been weird.

She flagged down a taxi, feeling jazzed. On impulse, she called Chance. “What are you wearing?” she asked the moment he answered the phone.

“A towel and a smile,” he replied.

Remembering how he looked in a towel, she squirmed in the torn backseat of the cab. “I’ll be right over in that case.”

“Good.” He hung up.

She slipped the phone in her pocket and leaned into the divider between her and the driver. “Step on it.”

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes, not going any faster.

Well, she tried.

San Francisco wasn’t super big, so she arrived at the Carrington-Wright house quickly anyway. She paid the driver and hopped out.

Chance and Ante Up were waiting for her on the front stoop. His hair was damp, and he looked freshly shaven. Bummer that she missed the shower.

Lighting up when he saw her, he stood. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Playing it cool, she scratched the pig under his chin when really she wanted to launch herself at Chance.

He took her other hand and drew her into his chest. “I don’t know how I should feel about you giving the little porker affection before me.”

“Do you need affection?” She wound her arms around his neck.

“Always.” Lowering his mouth, he kissed her.

It was just what she needed, too. She sighed, relaxing against him.

He gave her an Eskimo kiss. “I need to take Ante Up for a walk. Want to join us?”

“Walk?” She wrinkled her nose. “How far are you going, and are there hills?”

Chance groaned. “Not you, too.”

Snorting, the pig waved his snout up and down.

“I know. He’s talking crazy,” KT said to Ante Up. Then she faced Chance and shrugged. “It seems like we outnumber you. I have a better solution.”

They ended up at Li Po, a dive bar in Chinatown—without Ante Up, because they decided it was probably not a good idea to take a pig there. Ordering a couple beers, they sat at the bar.

“Ante Up is sorry to be missing this,” Chance said, tapping his bottle to hers. “That pig loves his pale ales.”

KT grinned. “He’s a strange animal.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Since we’re talking about strange animals, I had a session with the teenager I’m tutoring.”

Chance angled his legs to bracket hers. “She’s strange?”

“To say the least.” KT pursed her lips in thought. “It’s not her appearance as much as it’s her attitude. She pretends to be snarky, but underneath I think she really wants to learn piano.”

“If I had you as a teacher, I’d be eager to learn.” He gave her an exaggerated leer as he lifted the beer bottle to his mouth.

“You’d sit there and think about what I was wearing under my clothes.”

He leaned in and softly said, “I already know that you don’t wear a bra.”

She arched her brow at him and took a swig of her beer. “Maybe.”

He stilled. “What does that mean?”

“Remember the bra and panties you bought me?”

“Do I ever.” He swallowed audibly.

“Olivia was right. They aren’t uncomfortable.” She grinned at the way his eyes dropped, as if he was trying to see past the outer layer she wore. “Anyway,” she said, “today was just a revelation. I feel like I got through to Ashley a little.”

He shook his head. “I’m still stuck on your lingerie.”

His phone rang, and he lifted it out to look at it. Then he silenced it and tucked it away.

“No one important?” she asked.

“No. Just Tiffany Woods. The headhunter,” he explained at her blank look.

“She’s determined.”

He shrugged. “I don’t understand why she’s so bent on me.”

“Is this job worth the aggravation?” KT leaned her chin on her hand. “Aren’t there other jobs you can apply for?”

“It’s tough in this market, and I have no real work experience. Paragon is interested in people who have my unique abilities. In the Bay Area, cutting edge finance companies like that are few and far between.” He faced her, putting his hand on her leg. “I know without a doubt that I want to be here.”

She wanted him to be here. For someone who was just a pretend boyfriend, he meant a lot to her already. She put her hand on top of his, keeping him there. “Couldn’t you keep playing poker instead of taking a job?”

“Not if I want to have a normal family life. And playing was never a forever thing. It was a temporary measure till I figured out what my purpose was.”

“Your purpose?”

“The way I’m supposed to change the world.” His expression sobered. “My dad used to tell me that everyone was meant to put their mark on the world, to change it for the better, and our life’s journey was to figure out how.”