Chapter 37
Taylor stares at Abigail while she drags her pen over each clause of the contract, skimming as she goes.
Her agent hasn’t joined her at this morning’s recording sessions because she’s been handling the same thing she’s doing right now; only this time they’re in Stone he laughs, caught up in her euphoria, and lifts her off the floor while she keeps screaming.
"Fuck, Liam, I did it!" she blurts, unable to contain herself.
"Of course you did," he confirms, setting her down. "And this is only the beginning."
Taylor turns to Abigail, who’s watching her with a smile, reminding her of the Abigail she met in Smithville. Taylor doesn’t even think; she launches herself at her too and loops her arms around her neck.
To her surprise, Abigail hugs her back without hesitation. She places one hand on her back and slips the other under her hair, pressing her hard against her body as she brings her lips to Taylor’s ear.
"Congratulations, sweetheart. You deserve everything," she says, chewing each syllable.
The words are a whisper, but to Taylor they’re devastating coming from her, especially when Abigail presses harder as she says them, proving with actions that she truly means it.
Taylor could get a thousand congratulations from the most relevant people in the music scene, but this is the only one that matters—the one from Abigail, her sincere words and the emotional charge Taylor hears in them.
The hug lingers when Taylor suddenly starts to tremble.
It’s an explosive mix of sensations: the thrill of the contract, the relief of having made it this far, and the intensity of having Abigail so close after weeks of forced distance she never wanted.
Her dark eyes fill and she starts crying against the executive’s shoulder, sobs of happiness she can’t stop.
Abigail holds her tighter and sighs into her hair, sharing a quick look with Liam before focusing on Taylor again.
She knows there’s more than euphoria in the singer’s tears; she can feel all the tension stored in Taylor’s body through her shaking, everything she’s endured with her brother, the pressure to keep her essence intact in a world that kept trying to change her.
She keeps her there, not caring that Liam is present, letting Taylor let it out.
When the singer finally calms, Abigail kisses her temple again like the night before, then pulls back and looks at her face while Taylor tries to wipe her tears away between sobs and laughter.
"I’m sorry," she says between hiccups. "I just can’t believe this really happened."
"Then start believing it," Abigail says, focused on her face as she wipes away her tears with her thumbs, with a warmth that makes Liam arch a brow.
"Yeah." Taylor smiles through another hiccup.
"We have to celebrate," Liam says. "I’ll book a table at the usual place for tonight. Abigail, tell Erin to come. And you, Taylor, bring whoever you want."
Abigail and Taylor exchange a look when both think of the woman Abigail saw leaving her apartment.
Tension flares between them out of nowhere, but neither says anything.
Abigail isn’t going to taint Taylor’s moment with that, so she sweeps away another couple of tears from the singer and steps aside to gather her things.
"Does eight-thirty work for you?" Liam asks, oblivious to the moment of tension he’s just witnessed without realizing it.
"Yes," Abigail answers, and Taylor nods.
The three of them leave the conference room, and Taylor says goodbye and heads to the bathroom to wash her face.
"Liam, can you come to my office?" Abigail asks. "I need to talk to you."
He simply follows her until they’re both inside the executive’s office, where Abigail gets straight to the point after closing the door.
"From now on, I want you to handle Taylor’s career," she fires point-blank.
Liam goes still for a moment, processing what he’s just heard. He can’t say he’s entirely surprised by her request; he’s had his suspicions for a while, and they were just confirmed a moment ago in the conference room, so he decides to be just as direct as she is.
"Are you involved with Taylor?" he asks, walking to the chair in front of Abigail’s desk.
She stays standing by the window, arms crossed.
"I don’t know," she replies with a shrug. "I owe her a conversation, but regardless of how that goes, I can’t be her agent, Liam."
Her partner frowns.
"Why not?"
Abigail looks at him with that stony expression she uses to protect herself when she feels vulnerable, like she does now.
"Because it’s really hard for me to be impartial when it comes to her.
I can’t think straight," she confesses, glancing out the window for a moment before continuing. "I can’t make the best decisions for her career if I’m…
" Abigail shakes her head; she doesn’t even know how to explain it.
"I can’t put her future at risk by being incompetent," she spits out.
Liam lets out a sudden laugh that makes his partner glare daggers at him.
"What the hell are you laughing at?"
He stands and rounds the desk, leaning on the other side of the window in front of Abigail.
"If there’s anyone competent in this agency, it’s you, Abby. But you’re right about one thing," he says, turning serious. "Life’s about way more than work, and you’re allowed to feel things too."
"I didn’t say that," Abigail murmurs.
He smiles and steps a little closer, laying a hand on her shoulder.
"Not consciously, but you did. And whatever you feel for Taylor must be pretty strong if you’re willing to give up doing what you love most for her, so I hope that conversation goes well. And for fuck’s sake, Abby, try stringing together sentences with more than five words."
She smiles and pushes him away.
"It’ll be an honor to take on Taylor, and God help me if I screw anything up," Liam jokes, heading for the door. "See you tonight. Don’t be late."
The restaurant where Abigail and Liam usually celebrate their agency’s wins is elegant without being stuffy, with panoramic views of the city.
Seven people are at the table that night: Liam and his wife, Vanessa; Erin; Demian; David, one of the musicians who worked with Taylor in Smithville; and, rounding out the circle, Abigail and Taylor.
To everyone’s surprise—especially her sister’s—Abigail seems quite relaxed.
She’s wearing a black dress that’s making Taylor go cross-eyed, and her loose brown hair ripples over her shoulders.
She isn’t that armored, robotic version everyone knows; there’s something softer about her tonight, though Erin can’t pinpoint what, beyond Taylor’s presence by her side.
The singer is radiant. She’s wearing a green blouse that makes her eyes glow like two burning embers, and her hair is pulled into a loose bun that lets strands tumble everywhere—strands Abigail wants to drag her fingers through.
Taylor can’t stop smiling. She still hasn’t fully processed what happened this afternoon, and the fact that it’s the only topic at the table has her puffed up proud as a peacock.
"Do you miss Smithville?" Vanessa asks. "The change must have been brutal for you."
Taylor looks at Abigail before answering.
They’ve been like this all night, orbiting each other without control, unable to stop seeking each other out.
Erin watches her sister with fascination, because she has never seen her so attuned to another person, and it makes her seem so human Erin just wants to hug her.
"I miss my family, and I miss the quiet, but I don’t miss feeling like I couldn’t fly," Taylor answers. "Here I feel completely free."
Abigail feels a stab of emotion spear through her chest, wondering if, in some way, she’s helped Taylor find her place in the world.