The Song in My Heart (31 page)

“I did, and you know what occurs to me?” Sloane sipped her wine again. She was easily on her third glass by now. “That we’re getting to that pathetic age where food matters more than sex.”

Dess nearly dropped her glass. “Oh, that’ll
never
happen to you, my friend.”

Sloane considered, before breaking into an impish grin. “You’re right, it won’t.”

The doorbell rang, and Carol poked her head out of the kitchen. “Would you mind getting that, Sis?”

Dess shrugged at Sloane. “This better not delay dinner, whoever it is.”

“Do you want me to grab a baseball bat and come with you? Scare off whoever dares to interrupt our Thanksgiving dinner?”

“No, better not. We don’t want any lawsuits.”

“Good point. On the other hand, if it’s a hot woman, by all means, invite her in. We could put our theory to the test.” Sloane wiggled her eyebrows, and Dess slapped her shoulder on the way to the door.

This better be good
, she thought.
Like a flower delivery or something involving food
. She pulled open the heavy door. Her heart stopped.

“Hi.” Erika stood before her, holding a bouquet of flowers.

Dess could form no coherent thought. She couldn’t seem to speak either. Or move. So she stood there stupidly, as though her feet were nailed to the floor.

Erika leaned in, smelling faintly of jasmine and sandalwood this time, and gave her a peck on the cheek. Dess’s knees went weak.

“Sorry. I keep popping up out of nowhere, don’t I?” There wasn’t the slightest hint of anger or hurt in Erika’s voice from their falling out last week.

“Erika!” Sloane nudged Dess aside and gave Erika a big hug, crushing the flowers between them. “It’s great to see you, kid. Come in.”

Dess stood back, feeling strangely like the outsider as Sloane tugged Erika along. Carol had come running from the kitchen and gave Erika a squealing hug. “Yes, please, come in, Erika. Join us for dinner, won’t you?”

“Okay, but only if you accept these flowers.”

Erika’s smile was slightly apologetic, but her happiness at being around Dess and her family was clearly evident. It only made Dess want to cry at the futility of it all. Why was Erika torturing her this way? And how could she possibly sit through an entire dinner with Erika in the same room, smelling the way she smelled, looking more beautiful than she had ever seen her, looking like she belonged here? It was all so hopeless. Nothing had changed between them. There was still the white hot desire, the canyon of yearning and need in Dess’s heart. But also present was the same fractious issue that kept them from being together—Erika’s desire for success and Dess’s desire for a quiet life.
We’re trapped in a horrible, vicious circle that has no resolution
.

In the kitchen, Dess pulled Carol aside and whispered, “Did you know about this?”

Carol shrugged. “Maybe. All right, fine. She wanted to see you. Said it was important, and she didn’t think you’d agree to meet with her if she approached you directly. So I told her to come by.”

Dess rolled her eyes. “What is this, high school?”

Looking back to the living room she watched her mother press a glass of wine into Erika’s hands. “I hope you’ve come to sweep my daughter off her feet,” she deadpanned.

Dess’s mouth fell open. “Mom!”

Erika was playing it cool, thankfully. “I have some business with your daughter, Mrs. Hampton. As for the other, well…” She shot a mirth-filled glance at Dess. “That depends on Dess.”

“Well, pleasure first. You can conduct business after dinner. And please, call me Victoria.”

“All right. And thank you, Victoria.”

“Come,” Victoria said to Erika, “and meet the rest of the family before the turkey gets cold.”

Wow
, Dess thought,
my family acts as though she’s already one of us.

“This is good,” Sloane whispered beside her. “Always best when the family gets along with the future in-law.”

“Jesus, Sloane!”

“Bull’s-eye.” Sloane laughed. “When are you going to understand that some things are just meant to be? Come on, let’s get first in line for the food.”

Erika was perfectly charming over dinner, as if she’d been the scheduled main attraction all along, regaling them with stories from the road, gossiping idly about other celebrities. Carol’s young daughters were smitten. So was Carol, her husband, Rob and, of course, Dess’s mother. Victoria never once dropped her smile, even while cramming her mouth full of food.

“Dessert’s another hour away,” Carol announced. To Dess, she said, “You and Erika are welcome to use my study to talk business.” She handed her a half bottle of Riesling and two glasses and capped the gesture with a wink. “You might need this.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Dess closed the door behind them, set the bottle and glasses down on a side table. She didn’t want to be alone with Erika, no matter what the reason. It was too damned hard.

“Do you really have business to discuss?” she asked, skepticism creeping into her voice. What kind of game was Erika playing, anyway? Had Dayna finally rubbed off on her?

“Yes,” Erika said, sitting on a corner of Carol’s desk and casually crossing her arms. “It’s about our song. I know this is going to sound completely out of left field, but I want your half of the rights.”

Blood thundered in Dess’s ears. “Dayna put you up to this, didn’t she?” She began to pace in front of Erika, trying not to go out of her mind. “She convinced you somehow that the song should be all yours? Well,” she raged, “you both can forget it.”

“No. This wasn’t Dayna’s idea, but it has everything to do with her.”

Dess desperately reached for the wine bottle and filled her glass to the top. With a trembling hand, she took a giant gulp. Maybe she should just sign over the damned song and be done with it. Be done playing these games with Erika. And Dayna.
Ha
, she thought. Dayna was as ruthless a bitch as ever and probably knew that Dess could not say no to Erika. About anything. They were playing her, and she was falling straight into their trap.

From behind, Erika’s hand snaked its way around her wrist and guided her glass down to the table.

“Turn around,” Erika whispered, her breath tickling Dess’s ear and sending a hot tremor down her spine.

Mentally bracing herself to give Erika a piece of her mind, she reluctantly obeyed. She took a deep breath, intending to give Erika both barrels, when Erika’s mouth was suddenly on hers. The crushing heat of their lips undid her with an eruptive force that nearly lifted her off the ground, made her dizzy with a want she thought she could control but knew she never would. They fit together so perfectly. Not only their mouths, their lips, but their entire bodies. Fit together and belonged together. She slid into Erika’s embrace like a hand into a custom glove, and thought,
I could die here never needing or regretting a single thing ever again
.

Erika deepened the kiss as her hands slid up Dess’s belly, her torso, until they brushed the underside of her breasts. Dess shivered with pleasure. She remembered how those hands felt on her breasts, on her skin, and she ached for them to touch her all over. But it would be a mistake, came the tiny pinprick of conscience.
She’s here because she wants something and I can’t damned well say no
.

“Wait,” Dess said, breathless and placing a hand on Erika’s chest to create some distance between them. It was her last scrap of strength. “You can’t kiss me like that.”

“Why not?” A defiant little smile flickered at the corner of Erika’s mouth, and it was annoyingly sexy. Those damned dimples were alive and well too, Dess noticed.

“Because I have no resistance against it.” Dess swallowed. “It makes me want to give you anything.”

A single eyebrow rose. “Anything?”

It was true. She’d give Erika her body, her heart, her money, anything she wanted. But she’d be damned if she’d give in quite so readily. “Tell me why you want the song.”

Erika reached for Dess’s glass of wine and took a sip from it. “I want us to give it to Dayna.”

Dess’s heart pounded like a jackhammer. “You what?”

“I’ve just recorded the song, and I told Dayna she could have it.”

Shock and anger left Dess trembling. “That is our song, Erika. Yours and mine, and it’s not for
you
to give away. Especially not to her. How dare you!”

“I have a good re—”

“I thought that song was special to you, that it had special meaning.” Dess’s voice cracked, and tears weren’t far off. “It was special to me. I couldn’t have written those words, that music, with anyone but you. How on earth could you do this?”

Erika reached for Dess, but she swatted her hand away. “Don’t.”

“Jesus, Dess, let me explain. If we give Dayna the rights to that song, which I know is going to be a hit, she’ll cut me loose. Let me out of my contract six months early.” Quietly, she added, “I’ll be free of her. Forever.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. What about your career?”

“My career will go on, but in the ways I choose it to. And living out of a suitcase and traveling to so many cities that I can’t even remember where I am is not how I want to live my life. I’m done with that.”

“But…” Dess couldn’t afford to yield her trust so quickly, to risk Erika changing her mind down the road. “I thought that was what you wanted…I mean, you’re just getting started.”

Facing her, Erika took Dess’s hands in hers. “I thought it was what I wanted too, until I began to understand some of the realities. And when I realized I couldn’t bear the loss anymore.”

Dess shook with anticipation. And fear. “What loss?”

There was unmistakable love in Erika’s smile and something deeper that could only be devotion. Dess’s heart swelled, even as Erika replied, “You, sweetheart. Nothing is worth losing you over. There is nothing else in this world that truly makes me happy. Not the concerts, not the song charts, not the glamor and certainly not the money.”

“But…are you sure about this? It might mean more of those small festivals like we did last summer. And venues of hundreds of people instead of thousands. It might mean perpetual obscurity. I mean, do you know what you’re giving up?”

“Yes. I do. I tried it, Dess. And it doesn’t come close to filling my heart. Not the way you do. And there’s more.”

“There is?”

Erika’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to be my parents. I don’t want to be obsessive and single-minded about music to the detriment of everything else. They lost their daughter because of it. But I won’t lose the love of my life because I’m too blinded by my aspirations. I didn’t see that before, but I do now. And I don’t ever want to be like Dayna and Bethany and all the rest of them…so damned lonely and empty inside and miserable. It’s not how I want to live my life, Dess.”

“Oh, honey.” Tears choked her voice, and she threw herself into Erika’s arms. She could have told Erika all about the price and sacrifices of fame—most of all, the bitter, empty loneliness that made you doubt everything and everyone, including yourself. But hearing those things and coming to know them for yourself are two completely different things, Dess knew.

“I love you, Dess. And I want to be with you. Period. Anything else in my life is just gravy.”

She’d always known Erika loved her, but not like this. Not the kind of love where Erika was willing to renounce—or at least severely alter—her dreams and goals and future. Now, she knew, it was up to her to offer the same gift.

“I love you too, Erika. With all my heart. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that a lot sooner. I was afraid to. I—”

“No, it’s okay,” Erika said with a smile that made Dess’s heart ache. “You needed to set me free. I understand that now.”

“Then know this too. I’m ready now to walk with you, side by side, wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. Okay? I wasn’t willing to change my life for you, but I am now. And I will.”

Erika smiled, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Good, because I saw you on that talk show, you know. And I was thinking, now that you’re comfortable being on television again, we could, you know, do a reality show together. What do you say?”

Dess playfully tugged Erika’s ear with her teeth. “No reality shows, sorry.”

A hand reached under Dess’s blouse and crawled up to her breast. “Then how about our own sex video?”

“How about the sex without the video?”

Erika laughed. “Deal. What are you doing the rest of the evening?”

“It so happens I’m free.”

“Good.” Erika kissed her. “Let’s make a run for it.”

“It might be hard getting a cab, it being Thanksgiving and all. Can you handle a twenty-minute walk?”

Erika stroked her nipple through her bra, nearly sending her through the roof. “I can handle it if you can.”

“Keep doing that, and I’m going to pull you to the floor in about two seconds.”

Erika’s eyes glinted with hope. “I wouldn’t say no.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“We’re skipping dessert, you know.”

Dess grinned, never so happy to skip her mother’s pumpkin pie. “No, we’re not. I have a feeling dessert is going to be at my place.”

* * *

Snow fell in the form of a soft dusting from the sky, and it was beautiful, the way it coated everything with a fine, white, glittery blanket. Erika held Dess’s hand tightly as they strolled and thought how clean the snow made the city look. And how festive. Shops along the Magnificent Mile were decorated for Christmas with miniature twinkling lights and dazzlingly adorned trees in their window displays. She wondered what she might get Dess for Christmas, then covertly tapped the small box in the pocket of her wool peacoat. It would have to do, although waiting for Christmas to give it to her would be a challenge.

“You know,” Dess said. “I never did give you an answer about signing over our song, did I?”

A finger of panic crawled up Erika’s spine. “Oh, shit. You’ll do it, won’t you?”

“If it means getting that witch out of our life and giving you back control over your career, then yes, absolutely.”

“Thank you.” Erika squeezed Dess’s fingers, which were cold. They hadn’t brought mittens or gloves. “I didn’t ask lightly. But that song will always be ours, Dess. No matter what.”