Chapter 8
Taylor arrives at her parents' restaurant two hours later.
After dropping Abigail at Harold's house, she has gone for a drive in the truck because she needed to clear her head, get some air while she processed everything that woman, who yesterday was moaning into her mouth, has unloaded on her without a second thought, as if Taylor hadn't dreamed a thousand times of climbing onto a huge stage where the crowd roared while she shredded her voice singing.
Although what she has actually done is pull over at a lookout and search for her online.
She has looked up the company name, information about what she and a certain Liam Cottet have achieved, but most of all, she has looked up her.
A solid career stacking success after success, born in New York, single, forty-two.
That's it: no known partners, just hundreds of photos next to tons of artists.
Today is her day off—one weekend it's her and the next it's Ethan—even so, she's put on her polo and comes ready to work.
She has to do something that keeps her hands busy before she can sit down with her parents tonight and tell them what's going on with her.
Ethan sees her and smiles; he's not surprised that his sister lends a hand—she does sometimes, a couple of hours and then leaves—so he doesn't think much of it and lets her take five tables.
Taylor grabs her notepad and walks up to the first table, but she can only see the man's lips moving, unable to retain a thing.
"Miss, are you listening to me?" the man asks, frowning when he sees she doesn't react.
"Yes, sorry," she blinks, trying to focus on him. "Could you repeat what you want?"
The man sighs and recites his order again. Taylor writes it down and leaves, but when she gets to the kitchen even she can't read her own handwriting.
"Fuck," she complains, tearing the sheet out.
"What's wrong, honey?" her mother asks from the griddle, where she's making several burgers.
"Nothing, I've messed up writing it down," she says, huffing.
Carmen Davey watches her with those dark eyes Taylor inherited from her, just like her hair and olive skin.
"Are you okay? What are you doing here?" her mother presses.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had lunch with a friend. I'm just stopping by to help out; I'll leave in a bit."
Taylor walks out of the kitchen before her mother, who can pick up on lies like a walking detector, asks more questions.
Over the next hour, she spills a drink, forgets to write down two orders, and delivers the wrong food to three different tables.
It's a disaster and she knows it, so she gives up and leaves her notepad behind the bar, where her father is pouring a beer.
"You heading out?" he asks.
"Yeah, but I'll probably come for dinner tonight—tell Mom."
She gives him a kiss and steps out from behind the bar, ready to leave and go home to talk to her sister, but Ethan's voice makes her stop.
"Taylor."
Her brother is standing by a table and comes over slowly.
"What's up with you today? You're acting really weird," he asks with an amused smile.
"Nothing, I'm just tired," she replies.
"Liar." Ethan lets out a small chuckle. "What's going on?"
She looks around, making sure there aren't many people waiting. She was going to talk to Ethan tonight, at the same time as their parents, but decides to do it now.
"Okay, can we talk for a minute?"
Her brother frowns, but nods.
"Go to the back room. I'll tell Dad to cover me for a bit," Ethan says.
Taylor heads to the small office behind the kitchen, a tiny, narrow space with a desk, a couple of shelves, and a bunch of boxes full of papers. Ethan comes in a minute later and closes the door behind him.
"Okay, spill," he says, folding his arms.
She sighs, not quite sure how to start.
"Do you remember the woman from yesterday? The one you claimed was blonde..."
He bursts out laughing.
"Fuck, don't tell me you've fallen in love and that's why you're like this," he says in a teasing tone.
Taylor frowns, itching to slap him.
"I'm not in love with her."
"Okay, then what's the deal with that woman?" Ethan asks.
"She's not in town by chance. Her name is Abigail Stone, from Stone she wants to represent me."
Ethan stares at her.
"Wait, wait. Are you saying a top-tier talent scout came here expressly to represent you?" he asks incredulously.
"Exactly."
"Taylor..." Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. "That kind of thing doesn't happen, not in real life."
"Well, it seems they do. I assure you it's all been very real."
"And what does she want exactly? Tell me."
"To take me to New York. Get me vocal coaching, studio sessions, auditions, that kind of thing," she replies.
He gives an incredulous smile and then falls silent, pacing in circles around the tiny office.
"I don't know, I don't see it—she's a stranger..."
"She's not a stranger. You can Google her," Taylor replies, starting to get nervous in a different way.
"And what about us? It's always been the two of us; we've always said we'd make it together," Ethan snaps.
Taylor goes still, feeling guilty exactly the way her brother intends.
"Ethan..."
"I mean it," he cuts her off, wearing that wounded look that always works. "We've been in this since we were kids, and now what? You're gonna take off and leave me here?"
"I didn't say that, either."
"No?" Ethan folds his arms. "Because that's what it looks like. That woman shows up out of nowhere, screws you a couple of times to keep you happy, then promises you a bunch of bullshit, and you're already willing to throw away everything we've built together."
A buzz seems to slice through Taylor's head from side to side. Ethan has never been as cruel or petty as he just was. She doesn't even understand why he made that comment, and she feels frustrated that he won't support her.
"What have we built? Tell me. Singing at Rusty's on Friday nights? That's our big achievement?" she asks, annoyed.
"It's our start," he shoots back. "Every band starts at the bottom. These things take time."
"We've been doing the same thing for three years," Taylor says, feeling more and more on edge. "Three years, and we're in exactly the same place."
"Because we haven't had the right opportunities," Ethan steps closer and softens his tone, "but look, if this woman is who she says she is, ask her to include me in the deal. We're a team, Taylor."
Taylor sees the desperation in his eyes, and something cracks inside her.
"I don't know if it works like that, Ethan."
"Why not? If she really believes in your talent, she should believe in both of us as a duo. That's what we are," he insists.
"Ethan..."
"Listen. I know what these people are like, Taylor.
They promise a lot, but then they squeeze you until there's nothing left of you.
They use you until you're no use to them, and then they toss you aside.
You think she cares about you as a person?
To her, you're just an investment she needs to see a return on.
Someone has to protect you from sharks like her," her brother says.
"You don't know her, Ethan, I don't think..."
"And you do?" he cuts her off again.
Taylor opens her mouth to answer, but stops. In that, Ethan is right; she has known Abigail for barely twenty-four hours, but for some reason she can't explain, she trusts her.
"Abigail believes in my talent, Ethan."
"So do I," her brother says. "I always have. But I also believe in us, in everything we've done together."
Taylor feels like something is pulling her in two completely opposite directions. On one side, loyalty and affection for her brother. On the other, the opportunity Abigail is offering, the chance to make her dream come true.
"Aren't you happy for me?" she asks suddenly.
The question catches her brother off guard.
"What?"
"She thinks I have the talent to go really far. Aren't you happy?" Taylor asks.
Her brother hesitates for just a moment, but Taylor catches it.
"Of course I am," he says, but the answer comes too late. "I just worry about you. About us."
"Maybe what worries you is that I'll go without you," Taylor blurts.
"That's not fair."
Silence falls over them, and Taylor feels the weight of guilt.
"Maybe I could talk to her about including you."
"You would?" The relief in Ethan's voice is so obvious his sister feels a little ashamed.
"I can try."
"Thanks," Ethan says, hugging her, though she would have liked him to give her that hug earlier, when she told him the news about the offer she'd been given.
Taylor returns the hug. She loves her brother dearly, but right now she feels empty and hurt, and she can't stop remembering Abigail's words.
"Your brother is wrong, and he's holding you back"
"Well, I'm going home. See you tonight for dinner," Taylor says, saying goodbye to her brother.
"Sure. I'll fire up the grill in the yard and throw on the sausages you like," Ethan replies.
"Yeah, okay," Taylor says.