The Song in My Heart (25 page)

Over a glass of wine at Dess’s condo, she recounted every detail of the concert. Sitting next to her, their thighs touching, Dess smiled, toasted Erika with her glass.

“I knew you’d be wonderful, darling. I’m so proud of you. You deserve every last ounce of love from that crowd.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Erika’s heart swelled. Dess’s words were far more satisfying than the cheers of thousands or the gratification of some ridiculously generous contract. “I really wish you could have been there. I swear it was my best performance yet.”

“Actually…” Dess shifted sideways to face Erika. “I was there. Carol took me.”

“You were?”
Maybe that was why things had felt so right onstage
, Erika thought. Why everything had fit together so perfectly.
Because Dess had been there all along
.
A loving, bolstering presence, even as an anonymous member of the crowd
.

“Only for a couple of songs,” Dess clarified. “Then a photographer spotted me, and Carol and I had to run out of there like a couple of cats being chased by a pack of dogs.”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Dess had been right about the paparazzi. They weren’t going to leave her alone anytime soon.

“I’m okay, especially now that we’re here. Alone.”

Dess’s eyes shone in the flickering candlelight. Her mouth broke into a slow, sultry smile, and it was all the invitation Erika needed. She lay against Dess’s chest, content to snuggle there and enjoy the instant tranquility of being in Dess’s arms.

“Oh, honey,” Erika said, her voice cracking at the thought of the many nights ahead she would spend alone. “Do you know how good this feels? How this is the only thing I ever really want to do for the rest of my life?”

A chuckle of amusement vibrated from Dess’s chest against Erika’s cheek. “Actually, I can think of one other thing that beats this, hands down.”

It wasn’t the first time Erika had noticed that when talk turned serious and heartfelt between them, when their affectionate murmurings edged closer to proclamations of love, Dess often steered them toward sex. Not that Erika was complaining. Sex with Dess was simply fantastic. No, sensational. Phenomenal. But it wasn’t a replacement for what she needed to hear Dess say.

“Dess…”

Kisses quickly snuffed out further conversation. Gentle, tender kisses that quickly veered to ravenous and demanding, until finally Dess uttered breathlessly that she didn’t want it slow and soft tonight. Hard and fast, she said, her voice ending on a moan as Erika pulled her shirt apart, buttons flying like raindrops. At first touch, Dess’s nipples were rock hard, and she thrust herself into Erika’s willing mouth. There would be bruises, Erika was sure, as her mouth showed no mercy to Dess’s breasts.

“Oh God,” Dess moaned, her body beginning to tremble beneath Erika. “I need you to make me come, Erika. I want to come so hard for you.”

Her voice low in her throat, Erika said, “I want you to come for me, sweetheart. I want you to come for me like you’ve never come before.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes.”

Dess’s shorts were easy to remove. Better yet was the surprise beneath them—Dess wore no underwear.

“Perfect,” Erika rasped, breathing her lover in, burying her face against her hard wetness. She consumed Dess with a fervor she hadn’t shown before, stroking every ridge and valley with a lightning quickness that brought Dess to the edge—and over—in mere minutes. Dess shuddered and screamed Erika’s name, clutching her hair by the fistfuls, digging her nails into her shoulders as violent shudders wracked her body.

Erika remained where she was, between Dess’s legs. “Sorry, not leaving. Not leaving here until you come at least twice more.”

Dess laughed and stroked Erika’s head. “I love a woman with perseverance.”

“And dedication.”

“Yes, that too. And stamina.”

“Mmm. Tenacity too.”

“And unrelenting. God, you’re wonderful.”

Erika nipped the inside of Dess’s thigh. “I want to hear you say that right as you’re coming.”

“Hmm, I think I can…oh God!” Erika had pushed herself inside Dess, lingering inside the warm wetness before setting a rhythm. “I don’t think…I…can talk…anymore.”

“That’s okay. Moans will do just fine.” Erika flicked her tongue briskly against Dess’s clit, and felt the satisfaction of her lover growing rigid with the onslaught of yet another orgasm.

* * *

Dess barely slept all night. Held gently in Erika’s arms, she couldn’t quell the racing thoughts, the hopeless churning in her mind that left her more and more bereft with each hour that ticked by on her bedside clock. She wanted to be with Erika more than she’d ever wanted to be with anyone. She did love this woman. Was in love with her.
But that isn’t enough
, she tried to convince herself over and over. There was no such thing as love conquering all, she thought with growing desolation. Love couldn’t bridge their diverging paths. Couldn’t sustain them through what she was sure would be a rocket ride to the top for Erika. No. Erika needed to spread her wings, see where she could go without the drag of a lover who had eschewed everything to do with fame and superstardom and the music business. Erika needed to be free. Free of her, no matter how much pain it would cause them.

Erika stirred. “Baby, you’re crying.” Delicately, she thumbed the tears from Dess’s cheeks.

The morning light filtered lazily through the blinds, bathing the room in a dusky glow. It was going to be a cloudy day, which suited Dess’s mood perfectly.

“Are you okay?” Erika asked with urgency.

Dess rolled onto her back. She didn’t want to hide the way she was feeling, because there was no way to soften the blow. And no more time to delay the inevitable.

“No,” she said simply. “Not really.”

“Is it because I’m leaving today?”

“Yes.” Dess’s breath caught painfully in her chest at the thought of being alone again. She’d spent every waking moment with Erika—and Sloane—for almost three months. Not only had she become used to their company, she enjoyed it. Talking about music, fooling around on guitar and piano, writing songs with Erika, bantering with Sloane, playing for appreciative but small crowds—all of it had become a lifesaver for Dess. It had given her life meaning again, gave her a reason to get up in the morning, made her feel more alive than she’d felt in years. “I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “So much.”

Erika caressed her face lightly. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind about joining us for the rest of the tour? I wish you would.”

“No. We’ve been over this. I can’t have the paparazzi all over us, hounding us every minute.” Her hands balled into fists beneath the sheets. “And I can’t be around
her
.” Meaning Dayna, of course.

“Then fly in and meet me every couple of weeks. Or I’ll fly here. We can spend a couple of days together before—”

“No, honey. We can’t.”

Anguish swept across Erika’s face. Her voice was barely above a whisper. The look on her face said she knew exactly what Dess was about to propose. “Dess, no. Please.”

There was no denying that what she was about to say was going to crush Erika and, by extension, herself. But there was no other way. Erika was going to have to embark on her musical journey without her. At least for the foreseeable future. It was the fair thing, the sensible thing, to do. Dess had had her career, had attained her dreams and goals and then some. Erika, on the other hand, had barely begun.

It took great effort to find her voice, to sound strong. “Erika, what you need to do right now, you need to do on your own. Without me.”

“No, no. Please don’t say that, Dess. I can’t do any of this without you.” Tears sprang from Erika’s eyes.

Dess let Erika cry, even though each tear pierced her heart. She rocked her, kissed the top of her head, held her in a way she’d probably never been held before in her life, it occurred to her. “You know,” she whispered after a while, “that I would only hold you back. And I can’t allow that to happen. Not until you’ve shown the world your gifts.”

“No,” Erika said, her voice unyielding. “It won’t mean anything without you.”

“That’s not true. It will mean everything. I’ve been there, remember? And if you don’t do this, Erika, you’re cheating yourself. And you’re cheating the world of something you were meant to do and meant to share.” She cupped Erika’s chin and tilted her face up until they were looking into each other’s eyes. “You were
born
to do this.”

The sting still present in her voice, Erika said, “Why were you so quick to help me if you were only going to let it all go?”

“Because,” Dess said. She could no longer delay explaining the shameful side of her motivation. “I needed to make amends, in part.”

“Make amends for what? To whom?”

“Make amends to myself, the universe. Years ago, when I was reaching the very peak of my career, I irreparably harmed a young singer’s career. Intentionally. And I’ve been ashamed about it ever since.”

“I can’t imagine you would ever—”

“I did.” She’d never admitted to anyone what she’d done, other than Dayna, who approved wholeheartedly, snake that she was. But Dayna hadn’t made her do it. There was no one else to blame but herself.

“What did you do?”

“There was a young woman, a singer, about a decade younger than me. Her voice was very much like mine, her style, her choice of music. She’d obviously been very influenced by me. She even looked a little bit like me. I was convinced she was better than me. A better singer, better looking, more talented. And even though it was during the most successful part of my career, there was never a moment when I wasn’t very afraid of it all collapsing. You see, that’s the irony about success. You want it so badly, and then once you get it, you can think of nothing else but losing it. You’ll do anything to keep it.” The public, the music company executives, concert promoters, even your own agent, Dess knew, only cared about what you could do next for them. Nobody cared about what you’d done a month ago, much less a year ago.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that before. It sounds…unpleasant.”

“If you’re not careful, you can become something—someone—you don’t even recognize,” Dess continued. “And this girl. Eva was her name. My record company wanted to sign her, wanted her to open my concert tour for me. But I vetoed it. And I did it in a way I’m not proud of. I made things up. Told them she was uncooperative, unprofessional, and that it was a mistake to sign someone who was a virtual, although younger, carbon copy of me. I was given a lot of latitude in those days, and she was cut loose.”

“That hardly qualifies as sabotaging her career, Dess.”

“No, but it gets worse. Dayna took it from there, spread the word, or I should I say lies, about her far and wide. Added a few more embellishments too, like how she was a coke head. Nobody would touch her after that, and she drifted into obscurity.”

“Okay, so you did a mean thing. But if she was talented enough, she would have made it anyway, with or without your interference.”

Another thing Erika was naïve about, and Dess’s heart began to pound in frustration. “No, Erika, you’re wrong about that. I know you don’t realize it yet, but talent does not equal success. Far from it. Without a lot of luck or the murky scruples of someone like Dayna or the timely kindness of influential people, you’re screwed in this business. And I screwed that girl when I could have helped her.”

“So that’s it then,” Erika said, her voice building to an angry crescendo. “You’ve made your penance now by helping me. You can feel good about yourself again. Well, good for you, Dess, glad I could be of help!”

“Erika, wait, it’s not like that and you know it. You asked me what made me want to help you. I was honest just now, that’s all. But I would never have helped you if I didn’t believe in you.”

They lay in silence together until the room’s shadows disappeared. Then Erika swung her legs over the bed and threw on her robe. Turning to Dess, her gaze fixed and uncompromising, she said in a steely voice, “We’re not done yet, Dess. This…between us…is a hell of a long way from being done.” She turned and over her shoulder added, “Just so you’re clear.”

Watching her depart, Dess sank back into her pillow and smiled faintly into it. Erika was one of the most determined, confident women she knew. There was comfort in the knowledge that she would not give up on them, and maybe, just maybe, she thought with the first strand of hope she’d felt in days, they’d find a way somehow. Someday.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The weeks following the Chicago Blues Festival were frenetic ones for Erika. The rumors were true—Dayna Williams was absolutely relentless in pushing both Erika and herself. At her behest, Erika accepted a growing number of performance offers, agreed to a string of newspaper, radio and magazine interviews, and even signed an endorsement with Taylor Guitars in California that required a racy photo shoot to capitalize, Dayna insisted, on a body that was made to instantly raise hard-ons everywhere. An exaggeration if there ever was one, Erika figured, but she understood the need for ramping up her exposure. She had come to accept that her musical talents alone weren’t enough to set herself apart from all the other amazingly talented artists plying their trade. But it was damned exhausting work. Work that she hoped paid off and soon, because she was all-in with everything she damned well had, including her shredded heart.

She was in the midst of a string of West Coast performances. Three days ago it was Portland, Oregon, for an evening featuring the country’s best young blues performers. Last night it was Seattle. Now it was Vancouver, British Columbia, where Erika would open in twenty-four hours for the popular Canadian rock group Nickelback. It would be her first stadium concert, with an expected audience of about thirty-five thousand people. If she thought too far ahead, her nerves would rattle her too much, so she kept her mind occupied with thoughts of anything and everything unrelated to music. She had even taken a long walk through the city’s beautiful Stanley Park to keep herself distracted and, hopefully, worn out enough to get a good night’s sleep tonight.