Chapter 1 #2
But I was going to have to get used to her talking about Granger, wasn’t I? Because this was how it was going to be. All summer long. . .
“Well, Hayden got divorced this year. So I think he’s been looking forward to you coming. I think he’s really hopeful for a second chance.”
“I didn’t come here to get back with Hayden. I came here to play the flute. And remember, I have a boyfriend!”
“Yeah, but you never know,” Pippa said. “If the guests like you there’s all kinds of possibilities for your career. And with Hayden, a lot of doors could open for you. . .”
Was she implying I was only here to be Hayden’s girlfriend?
“I’m really excited to change into my Sirens costume and play for dinner tonight,” I parried, grabbing my battered flute case from the suitcase.
“Oh, Sosie. I can assure you that Hayden can help your career more than any of Grandaddy’s old friends.”
I bit back the retort that she should shut up about her brother, and she linked arms with me as we walked back to the big house, already buzzing with activity, workers moving back and forth with big, gorgeous centerpieces and getting the tables ready for dinner.
To be invited to Hollingsworth House for a Sirens performance was a coveted honor, and I could see several big-name journalists and streamers here. Live feeds of these performances could get tens of millions of views.
Oh, to feel my toes in the water was lovely. As much as I dreaded coming back, I loved the ocean too much to ever stay away from it forever.
And tonight was my first opportunity to be a Siren.
Might seem silly to some, but being raised by my grandmother in a trailer on the edge of Oystar Bay meant I had such a fascination with them.
She’d had no use for children, and no use for me specifically, and the first time she’d seen me watching the Sirens from a distance she’d blistered my ear with her sermons about the kind of women who would have gone there and played music wearing dresses that showed too much of their breasts.
And she had never forgotten my fascination, warning me repeatedly against the dangers of whorish behavior.
But I used to sit by the ocean and dream, that there was a family of mermaids out there and that I was their long-lost child.
That someday I would live out there like they did.
And he used to encourage me too. Back when we both worked at the Salty Dog Diner.
Someday I’ll get you out on that water, he’d say. Wouldn’t you like to live on a yacht? Or a houseboat?
Oh, a houseboat, I’d said, with stars in my eyes. Because I was an idiot who didn’t know a slick-talking villain when I saw one.
Where was he? I wondered as I quickly pulled on a green dress, shaking out my dark auburn hair.
There were mirrors set around for hair and makeup, but I was too nervous to get out there and start playing to spend much time on makeup, a quick swipe of eyeliner to frame my emerald eyes, and a touch of lip gloss.
My pale white skin looked even paler now, my eyes huge and frightened in my face.
To my delight the dress was lighter than air, a decadent rich green that flattered my coloring. A little tight over my breasts, but still flowing behind me in the ocean breeze.
I changed into it eagerly, but something between my shoulders itched, and I turned around almost instinctively.
But all I saw was the dark walnut wood panels of the backstage changing room.
I had to stop jumping at shadows.
Once the first meeting was over, I would feel better, I was sure of it.
I used to delude myself that we had this amazing connection. It was all naivete and innocence, of course.
We hadn’t had a connection at all. It had just been foolishness and longing. Longing to belong to someone for once in my life.
And he’d made me feel that way.
My hands were trembling with excitement and fear as I went out to the lawn.
The dress was tight, sculptured around the bodice so my breasts were pressed together, my hair flowing over my naked shoulders.
That was who the Sirens were, beautiful musicians hired to play as the biggest and wealthiest people in the state ate fine foods and drank wine.
Was this the beginning of my big break?
I had to focus on myself and my career, and ignore any other distractions.
Just as the first few notes sung out from my flute, I got a glimpse of a tall, lazy figure loping down the path from the beach from the big house.
Fucking hell.
Granger.
His walk was cocky, arrogant. Like he owned the place, stopping by Chamberlain Hollingsworth to shake the stiff, harsh-faced older man’s hand, his irresistible smile flashing out.
I hadn’t seen him in so long that I’d convinced myself it wouldn’t be like it had been before. He wouldn’t have that same hold over me.
No damn way.
But he looked the same, his strides loose and long-limbed, his blonde hair messy as hell, sticking out over his ears and curling down his neck. Deeply tanned skin with those careless stubbled cheeks.
And of course those god-damn baby blue eyes.
If only he hadn’t played that damn fiddle.
But there was something about how he played that made me think there was something between us. Or else why would our music have sounded so perfectly matched, those notes blending together so poignantly?
Music had never lied to me, but his music was a liar.
Just like he was.