21. McKenzie
TWENTY-ONE
McKenzie
“I loved it, but I was definitely ready to come home,” my mom said as we perused the nearly empty aisles of The Thrift Stop the following Thursday evening. “I missed you.” She’d just finished telling me about her trip and all the delicious wine and food she’d consumed.
“I missed you too.” I smiled at her as I slid hangers down a rack filled with shirts. I plucked one off the rack and held it up for her. It was blue with a picture of a Rosie-the-Riveter-looking character printed on it.
My mom squinted as she read the words. “‘Strollin’ for Kelsey’s Colon.’ Well, that one has to come with us.” She took it and put it in the cart she was pushing.
“Kelsey’s friend did her dirty sending this one to the donation pile,” I said.
“I don’t know who Kelsey is, but I hope she and her colon are doing well.”
I laughed as I pawed through the clothes. My phone pinged with a text from my back pocket, and when I checked the screen, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.
Luca: Randy McNutt told me to tell you he misses you.
My fingers flew quickly across the keyboard as I typed my response: I miss him too. But I’ll see him again Saturday.
Bubbles appeared and then another text.
Luca: Do I really have to wait that long?
My lips pressed together as I tapped out another message: I thought we were talking about Randy?
Luca: What if it’s really me who misses you? Do I still have to wait till Saturday?
“Earth to McKenzie,” my mom said, nudging me with the cart.
I shoved my phone back in my jeans. “Sorry.”
She cocked her head. “And who was that?”
“A friend,” I answered, not looking at her as I continued to swipe through the shirts.
“Uh-huh,” she said in a way that made it clear she didn’t believe me one bit.
“What?”
“If that was a friend, then why do you look like the cat that swallowed the canary?”
“I never understood that saying. How big is this cat if it’s swallowing a whole-ass bird?” I asked.
She folded her arms over her chest. “And now you’re changing the subject.”
“I’m just saying,” I began, feigning far more interest in the clothes in front of me than I felt. “Could a house cat—even one the size of Earl Grey—consume a bird in one gulp like a boa constrictor? Seems unlikely.”
“You’re blushing.” Her tone was more amused than accusatory.
“And you’re delusional.” I rolled my eyes, but the heat in my cheeks gave me away.
“Who’s the guy? Where’d you meet him? Is he cute?” She fired off her barrage of questions in rapid succession. “What am I even saying? Of course, he’s cute if he caught your attention.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’ll be the singular person in charge of your care one day?” I teased. “Are you trying to end up in a home?”
“It’s worth it if I get to hear about this handsome suitor .” Her eyes lit up as she made a poor attempt at a British accent.
“Suitor? This isn’t Bridgerton .” I heaved a dramatic sigh. “And he’s far from the proper type.”
My mother squealed like she was my best girlfriend—which, really, she always had been.
“What’s his name? What’s he like?” she asked.
I hesitated, enjoying leaving her hanging a little too much.
“Come on,” she insisted. “Humor an old woman. I haven’t had any action since—”
I plugged my ears. “LA LA LA. I can’t hear you.”
“If you don’t tell me who this guy is, I’ll tell you about the time me and Blaze Henderson—”
“Ew. Whose name is unironically Blaze?” I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “Fine. His name is Luca. Luca Sterling.”
She tilted her head, tapping her fingers on the handle of our cart. “Why does that name sound familiar? Is he a friend of yours from group? I swear you’ve mentioned him before.”
“I haven’t. But you might have heard of him.” I dropped my voice low so only she could hear. “Because he’s kind of, sort of famous.”
She blinked, her mouth hanging open. “I’m sorry. What?”
“You know that band Dallas from work was a part of?”
She nodded. “I love them. I listen to them all the time now.”
“Seriously?”
“What?” she asked, pretending this wasn’t woefully weird. “They’re good. That friend of yours, Katie, she’s a lucky girl. I’ve always had a thing for guys with tattoos.”
“I’m gonna try really hard to scrub that from my brain, thankyouverymuch.”
She leaned against the cart. “Hey, I said I’m old, but I’m not dead. In my head, I’m not a day over thirty-five.”
“Still weird,” I sang, moving down the rack.
“So, wait. Which one’s Luca?”
“He was the guitar player,” I answered. “Fair skin, dark hair, piercing blue eyes.”
She got quiet, and I turned around to find her studying her phone.
I dropped my head back onto my shoulders. “Don’t tell me you’re googling him.”
She didn’t bother lifting her eyes from the screen. “Okay. I won’t tell you.”
I snatched the phone out of her hands, but her face was already filled with concern.
“Kenz…” Her brows drew together as she frowned. “He’s very handsome, but those first headlines that popped up…Is all of that true? Because if it is—”
“It’s not,” I said, cutting her off. “Or at least, it isn’t anymore. He’s…kind and understanding and—”
“Not a womanizer?” she asked softly.
I shook my head emphatically. “He isn’t. I swear. I know what you’re thinking.”
“And can you blame me?”
I sighed. “No. I can’t.”
“Sweetheart, your dad was charming and sweet and beautiful once upon a time too. Before he started drinking and sleeping with every woman he could convince to get into bed with him.” Her face fell as she looked at me. “Before he left me with two children and no way to contact him.”
“You know I’d never get involved with someone like him.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You think I thought your father was like that when we got together?”
She took her phone back and enlarged one of the articles she’d found before handing it back to me. The headline read: Loaded Luca Sterling Gets Tossed Out of Bar After Late Night Brawl.
“Mom, I’m telling you.” I pointed to the date on the piece. “This is from three years ago. He’s not like that anymore. He’s sober. Don’t judge him before you even know anything about him.” My words came out sharper and more defensive than I intended. “I…Sorry…”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” She took a breath as she tucked her phone back in her purse. “Tell me about him.”
I sighed, a faint smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. There was only one thing I needed to tell her in order to make her understand.
“He was there for me the night of the… anniversary ,” I explained. “I was at a bar drinking alone, with every intention of getting drunk. I just wanted to…not feel anything anymore.”
Her face fell, and she pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you here all alone.”
“I’m not sorry,” I said with a shrug. “Because you deserved the break. And also because Luca found me. He didn’t know at first what was going on. All he knew was that he wasn’t going to let me deal with it alone. He stayed with me the whole night. Looked out for me. Made sure I got home safely and carried my drunk ass up the stairs. He held my hair back when I got sick.”
Tears shined in her eyes. “Sweetheart…”
“And then do you know what he did?” I asked. “He took care of me. He got me water and tucked me into bed and didn’t make a single move on me. The next morning, he got breakfast, and we talked. He wanted to know what had me down, so I told him. And Mom, he understood. Do you want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because he’d felt like Brennan did.” My voice broke. “He was depressed like Brennan was. That’s what brought him here to Nashville. He’s getting help. We understand each other in a way other people don’t.”
She opened her mouth as though she was going to say something but then closed it again.
“What?” I asked.
She hesitated a moment. “Honey, I can tell he means a lot to you, but…”
“But?”
“It seems like he might be dealing with a lot right now,” she answered, her voice gentle. “And I worry that could bring up a lot of difficult memories for you. I also know how much responsibility you felt for what happened with Brennan. I just don’t want you to get in a situation where you take on the weight of things you have no control over.”
My gaze fell to my feet. Kia had brought up something similar weeks before. I’d shoved those thoughts aside then but hearing them echoed by my mom caused a wave of anxiety to wash over me, plunging me into shadowy waters.
“It’s not like that,” I insisted, clinging to my attachment to Luca like a life raft. “I think we found each other for a reason.”
My mother closed the distance between us, taking me in her arms. She smoothed her hands over my hair.
“It sounds like maybe you did,” she said, swiping the tears from my eyes with her thumbs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to misjudge him.”
I nodded. “It’s okay. I just…I think he’s been dealt a lot of shit, and people don’t know the full story.”
“And you feel protective of him,” she said. “I get it. And I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m protective of you. You’re my whole life, McKenzie. I want to keep you safe.”
“He does too. I really believe that.” Letting anyone in was a risk—one I didn’t take often because I knew all too well how it could end. But Luca walked straight through the walls I had up, rendering them useless against him. So, instead of using them to keep him out, I’d begun to see them as a way of bringing him in and locking him inside my heart.
“Okay. I believe you.” She pulled back and squeezed my shoulders. “When can I meet him?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “We’re not quite there yet.”
“How serious is it?”
“We’ve been spending time together these last few weeks but only just started dating,” I said. “I do want you to meet him. Just not yet.”
She gave me a reassuring smile. “Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready, so am I.”
I hugged her again. “Thanks, Mom.”
“But tell Katie if she ever gets tired of that Dallas, I’ll take him off her hands,” she joked, lightening the mood.
I grinned and gave her a gentle punch in the arm. “That’s it. I’m disowning you.”
“Luca, these songs are…incredible,” Grace said. It was Sunday at the hobbit house. I’d stayed over the night before, and Grace had arrived around noon bearing coffee and a binder filled with ideas to discuss with Luca.
“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” I said, poking Luca’s leg.
He grinned at me before turning to Grace. “So, you think this could be something?”
“I think it could be something huge.” She sighed and sank deeper into the armchair across from us, Emilia curled in a ball on her lap. “Trends are moving toward solo artists, and we’re seeing albums that are a lot more stripped down, less produced. I know Midnight in Dallas wasn’t heavy on the production, but it’s even less now than what you probably remember. I think that would lend itself really well to what you’ve got here.”
Luca nodded, a smile spreading over his face.
“But I do think there’s something else we need to consider,” Grace continued, stroking Emilia’s head as she slept, her brows furrowed together.
“What do you mean?” Luca asked, and I folded one leg under the other as I listened.
“Well,” she began, “you already have a built-in fan base that’ll be clamoring for anything new from a member of their favorite band since Jax is the only one still in the spotlight.”
I tilted my head. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“It could be,” Grace answered. “But with more attention comes more scrutiny. The media hasn’t always been kind to Luca.”
Luca released a heavy sigh. “You think they won’t even give me a chance.”
Grace hesitated. “I didn’t say that.”
My heart dropped as I pictured the articles my mom had shown me just days before. And those were just the tip of the iceberg. I’d gone down my own Google rabbit holes in the past and found plenty more where that came from.
“But you think it,” I said, filling in the blanks.
She twisted her lips to the corner of her mouth as she considered what she wanted to say.
“This could go one of two ways,” Grace said. “The press might latch onto this music as kind of a comeback. A rebirth of the Luca Sterling they knew.”
Luca blew out a breath. “Or they’ll be harder on me than ever and shoot this project down before it ever grows wings.”
“Exactly.” Grace gave him a sad smile. “That’s why I want to make sure you’re ready for this. Because once we put the wheels in motion—once your music gets out there—there’s nothing we can do to stop the train.”
“What do you suggest?” Luca asked her. “I’m sure you and Cash talked about it before you came here. What do you believe I should do?”
“Well, I certainly didn’t come here for an engagement present.” Grace gave him a pointed stare that had her mother Ella written all over it.
Luca winced. “Grace, I’m sorry I didn’t call. Congratulations. Truly. I’m happy for you and Sam.”
She laughed. “I’m messing with you. But seriously, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think this was something worth pursuing.” She paused and leaned forward, running her fingers down Emilia’s back, her gaze fixed on Luca. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have faith in you.”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his gaze falling to his lap.
“Thank you,” he said.
“But as my client, and more importantly, as my friend,” Grace said, “I have to prepare you for every possible outcome.”
Luca inhaled deeply before turning to me. “What do you think I should do?”
“Oh, um, I…” I trailed off for a moment. “Luca, I don’t know this business.”
“That may be true, but you know me ,” he said softly, his hand squeezing my knee. “And I care what you think.”
I swallowed hard as I considered his question. I didn’t know a lot about the music business or the media, but the look on my mom’s face Thursday night when she pulled up those articles about Luca was burned into my mind. She’d come around once I’d explained the truth, but most people weren’t like that. We lived in a world full of clickbait headlines—one where people weren’t afforded the ability to fuck up, least of all in the public eye. People made assumptions first and asked questions later, if they asked questions at all.
But Luca’s music, his story, deserved to be heard. And once people heard his songs, there’d be no way they could see him as anything less than the amazing man I’d come to know.
“McKenzie?” he said, his eyes searching mine.
“I believe in you,” I finally answered, reaching for his hand. “And I believe in your beautiful songs. So, do I think you should do it? Yes. But more importantly, I think you want to do it. Ever since the idea became a possibility, there’s been this… light in your eyes. You want this, and it’s okay to want it.”
He chewed his lip. “I do. I want this.”
I squeezed his fingers and turned to Grace. “What can we do to prevent the media from being dicks? How do we get them to give him a fair shake?”
“We’ll do a crash course in media training, and we’ll start small,” Grace replied.
Luca spoke up. “Cash mentioned the idea of me playing The Bluebird. I wouldn’t call that small.”
“As far as venues go, it is,” Grace said. “But it’s also prestigious. It shows the world you’re coming out swinging. That you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
I gave him an encouraging smile. “And you are.”
He studied my face for a moment and nodded.
Grace opened her binder and pulled out a few sheets of paper. “I have a management agreement right here. It’s pretty much identical to the one you signed with Cash back when you were in the band. There’s absolutely no pressure on my end. I can leave it here for you to look over and—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Luca said. “I’m ready to sign.”
Grace beamed and let out a high-pitched squeal. “Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he answered, looking over at me. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He held my gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like he was talking about more than just his career decisions.
“Me either,” I said, releasing a contented sigh. “Me either.”