Chapter 44 #2
And maybe, deep down, there was a tiny part of me, just a cell, that wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. A single molecule that wanted to know how he felt to stand on that stage without fear, to feed off the joy of the crowd and live in the moment.
“Come on, Cobrecita. Please?” Cruz said. I opened my eyes to his encouraging smile. “Get that sexy ass up here and sing with me.”
I let that molecule lead.
I thrust my shoulders back to fake confidence, concealing my fear with annoyance. I stomped to the mic and threatened, “You’re going to pay for this.”
With his cockiest grin, he replied into his mic in a suggestive rumble. “I’m looking forward to it.”
A cat-call screeched, and at my table, Kate’s fingers were in her mouth. I raised my middle finger to my table, where Mallory lifted her phone to capture the moment. Great, video evidence to memorialize when I crash and burn.
Suddenly, everything felt more intense: the heat of the lights, the amplifier feedback at my feet, the stale alcohol scent. My vision tunneled and my chest tightened. I blinked, trying to clear the spots in front of my eyes. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t—
Cruz touched his forehead to my temple. “You and me, baby. Just you and me.”
I nodded, then he started playing a song he knew I’d know. I couldn’t look at the crowd or I’d panic, so I aimed my voice at the microphone and sang to him and him alone. My voice surprised me with its unwavering confidence, my gaze locked on Cruz, buoying my spirits and creating a safe harbor.
As we flowed into the second verse, he tilted his head in a silent reminder about our audience.
I looked out over the crowd, channeling the strength I’d honed at the negotiation table.
I found my courage: belting powerful lines that until now had only echoed around my shower tiles.
I didn’t care what people thought, because they didn’t know me, or him, or how much stronger we were together.
In the final stanza, I threw my arms out, half-screaming the last lines; I was finally home.
My eyes opened, landing on his.
He swung his guitar over his shoulder as I threw my arms around his shoulders. I barely heard the crowd’s cheers as he whispered, “Told you the bar wanted to hear you.”
I shook my head against his neck. “The world needs to hear you. You’re the best, Cruz.”
“Seriously?” He pulled back to search my gaze. “You’re not pissed at me for calling you up here?”
“Oh, I’m pissed as hell,” I laughed as the band returned to the stage. “But you can make it up to me tonight.”
The crowd hollered as he wrapped his arm around my waist, tugged me flush to his body and dipped his mouth to mine. I kissed him without restraint until he let out a groan in the back of his throat. “Don’t be surprised if all these songs are double tempo to get us the fuck out of here.”
When I laughed, he smacked my ass hard enough to make me shriek and said loudly enough that it would be picked up by the mic. “Stop throwing yourself at me, woman.”
As I retreated off the stage, he leaned into the mic and said, “Can you believe a woman that hot and talented is dating me? Because I sure can’t.”
“Holy shit,” Kate said, clapping me on the back. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Me neither,” I said, tipping my Pinot Grigio back in celebration and signaling for another.
“Um, Victoria?” Mallory said, lifting his finger to a side door of the pub … where Alexander Clarke stood staring, mouth agape.
“Holy shit,” Alexander said as I weaved through the crowd, wiping off my goofy grin.
“Mal texted me that you were singing, but I thought she was fucking around. But there you were … performing on a stage. Kissing him in public.” And when he smacked your butt, you …
you smiled.” I led him by the bicep, depositing him into a booth at the back of the pub—quiet enough that we could talk, but I could still keep an eye on the stage.
“They told me you were different around him. But God, Victoria …”
His head shook in disbelief, slumping into the booth. “Do you know how long it’s been since I saw you smile? A real smile, not one that concealed your thoughts about how easily you could outsmart them?”
I chuckled to hide the desperation in my voice. “How long?”
He ran his hand down his face. “Law school, maybe?”
I sighed. Eight years ago. Yeah, that was about right.
He glanced at the stage, where Cruz was wildly drumming his heart out.
“I’m sorry I told you he wasn’t good enough,” Alexander said.
I scoffed, remembering his disrespect about how I’d never be satisfied with Cruz’s lack of career potential. Even if everything he said was true at the time, it still hurt.
But he wasn’t done. “And I treated you like you couldn’t make your own decisions.”
“Yeah, you did,” I said, my voice rough.
“You’d think I would know better,” Alexander chuckled softly. “When I met Grace, Dad and Mallory both told me to keep my distance because I wasn’t good enough for her.”
“That’s because you’re not. Grace is a goddamn saint for putting up with your bullshit.”
His lips tightened to hold back a laugh. “Oh, and you’re such a catch?”
“I am, actually,” I said, which broke his stern facade. I turned again to watch Cruz, appreciative of him surprising me tonight. Just like when he brought me home to meet his family, he seemed to understand what I needed but would never request.
“His birthday is next month. I want to throw him a surprise party,” I said, feeling my face soften as my mind churned with ideas. My mom used to plan five surprises for my birthday every year, and I hadn’t celebrated that way since I lost her … but I knew deep down that she would love it.
I looked around, inspecting the lounge on the second level.
I could host it here at Donnelly’s. Rent out the whole upstairs, plus the roof deck.
This is where we met, after all. Where he’s most comfortable, where he performs. I turned back to the stage, wondering if I could conspire with Rodriguez to book Your Local Phantom to play that night too, and felt a smile tug at my lips.
“Oh my god, I totally predicted this,” Alex said, with an arrogant smirk. “I said that I thought you would love it here, if you gave it a chance. And here you are, planning a party, smiling at your boyfriend. I don’t want to say I told you so, but—”
“Oh my god, you’re insufferable,” I muttered, dropping my head in my hands.
“I told you so, Vic,” he said, testing the waters.
I glared. “Don’t push it.”
“Cruz calls you nicknames, why can’t I?” His mouth lifted into a crooked grin.
“He earned the right using a negotiation strategy that is no longer available to you,” I said with a raised eyebrow.
His eyes bulged. “Fine, Victoria.”
“Tori,” I said, holding out a hand. “No more than half the time, never in front of clients.”
“Alright, Tori,” he shook my hand. When our server arrived with my potato skins, Alex shoved one in his mouth, reaching for a second before I smacked his hand away.
“We’re business partners, we share,” he said, dodging my hand to scoop a big chunk of sour cream. “And now that I know that you perform live—”
“No.”
“I know what I want for my wedding present.”
“No, Alex.”
He grinned at my use of his nickname. “Tori—”
“I rescind the nickname offer.”
“Too late, we shook hands.”
“I’ll pay for your honeymoon.”
“No.”
“I’ll buy you a goddamn private island.”
“Sing one song with your boyfriend at your best friend’s wedding.”
I released an exasperated groan. “Fine.”
He pumped his fist.
“You should have anchored at three, I would have done two.”
His lips tilted into a crooked grin. “I’ll ask Cruz, he’ll talk you into five.”
I looked at the stage, watching Cruz vibrate with energy. Alex was right: somehow, no matter what it was that he wanted, Cruz could convince me.
And I was looking forward to it.