Chapter 29
It was my second Friday night out with Amber and Joy, and we started our evening at the community center again. The three of us had dressed up for our night out. Most people turned up wearing casual clothes. But not us.
“We’re fabulous!” Amber exclaimed as we walked into the community center. She put a hand on her hip, pulling my favorite leather jacket open to show off more of the silky slip dress she was wearing underneath.
Joy grinned at her, then at me. “We sure are. You look gorgeous, Amber.”
“You both do,” I told them.
We were definitely attracting some admiring looks. And enough hellos to make me feel more like a local than ever. And I snagged a plate of food, with a generous helping of Julianne MacIntyre’s locally famous coleslaw. Which, for the record, was delicious.
“Cletus is playing tonight,” Joy said when we’d finished eating, hooking her head toward one of the rooms where the bands would be performing. “Want to go in and watch?”
“Sure.” I dabbed my mouth to remove any coleslaw remnants. “Why not?”
We headed into one of the rooms where the musicians played. Nobody was playing just then, but their gear was mostly set up. The microphones were waiting on the low stage, though most of the instruments were still in their cases, leaning against the wall. Hardly anyone was in the room. Most were probably in line for the food and would come back once the music restarted.
We stopped in front of the stage. “Should we sit and wait?” I asked, gesturing to the rows of seats for the audience.
“Oh my Lord!” Amber stared at something over my shoulder, her eyes round with surprise. She grabbed my arm. “You’re not going to believe who just walked in. He’s so gorgeous!”
My heart leapt, and I broke into a grin. Cy had promised to meet me here, and Gemma had whispered that they were planning to drive into Knoxville to shop for clothes. She’d wagged her eyebrows at me, then stopped talking when Cy came back into the room, so I figured Cy had decided to buy something new for the occasion.
I couldn’t wait to see him, and if my friends’ exaggerated reactions were any indication, Cy must look great. Both Joy and Amber had wide eyes and parted lips. Amber was squeezing my arm, and Joy looked frozen in place.
A man cleared his throat right behind me and I grinned even wider, waiting for the low rumble of Cy’s voice and for him to slide his arms around my waist.
“Hey, babe. Surprise!” It was a male voice, but it wasn’t Cy’s.
My heart plummeted.
Pulling my arm free from Joy’s grip, I spun around.
“Eric?!” I yelped his name. “What are you doing here?”
My ex-boyfriend was wearing distressed black jeans and a ripped black T-shirt, printed with his own band’s logo. And he was carrying his guitar case, as though he wanted to make extra sure everyone he met recognized him. He’d been famous for roughly two minutes, and he was clearly milking his new-found success for everything it could give him.
He ran his free hand over his tousled hair. “The whole tour thing was crazy, Mags. I partied way too hard.” He shot me that sheepish little grin of his that used to make me melt. Now though, it was obvious he used it to dodge responsibility. He was nothing but an immature boy, expecting to do whatever he wanted and get away with it thanks to his pretty face and even prettier voice.
“What are you doing in Green Valley?” My tone was icy, and I narrowed my eyes into a glare. But his expression didn’t change, and my hostility seemed to bounce right off him.
“I came for you,” he said. “I need you, Mags.”
“We broke up.” I folded my arms. “It’s over.”
“Don’t be like that.” Eric put his guitar case down and reached for me, gripping my upper arms. “I can’t get by without you. You’re my muse, Mags. I haven’t written a good song since ‘City Pretty’. You inspire me, babe.”
“You left me to deal with Spike alone, and now you think you need me?” I rolled my eyes. If he had as much talent as he did selfishness, he’d be number one on every chart.
“I’m sorry, okay? I let the whole touring and fame thing go to my head and went crazy for a while. I was a jerk to you, but that wasn’t the real me, I promise. I can do better.”
Stepping back, I pulled myself free from his grip. “Eric, I don’t want to see you?—”
“Wait.” He waved both hands in a stop-talking gesture. “Before you say anything else, just listen to what I can offer. Let me save you, babe.”
“Save me?”
“From this place.” Nostrils flaring, he swept a disdainful glance around. People were starting to crowd into the room, murmuring to each other in low, excited tones. They’d obviously recognized Eric, and word seemed to be spreading fast.
“Hick towns are the worst,” Eric said. “Like that movie where the guys go on that rafting trip and the hillbillies attack. What’s it called?” He snapped his fingers. “Deliverance, right?”
My ears went hot, and I glanced behind me to make sure Joy and Amber hadn’t heard. Thankfully, my friends had stepped back to give us some privacy, though they were still gaping at Eric as though he was about to unfurl a pair of wings.
Ask me, he was more likely to grow a pair of horns.
The people of Green Valley had been so sweet to me, so friendly and welcoming. How dare he insult them? Surely I hadn’t sounded so awful when I’d first arrived?
“I know you gave up your apartment,” he said. “But you can stay with me. You can move in, and I’ll look after you. I’ll make it all up to you.”
“Oh my God!” gasped a familiar voice. Gemma pushed through the crowd and came skidding to a stop in front of us, her face alight with excitement. “You’re Eric Storm!”
My heart stuttered. If Gemma was here, Cy must have brought her. I craned my neck but couldn’t see him anywhere in the room. Though it had been almost empty when we walked in, now it was so full that people were struggling to squeeze through the door.
But where was Cy?
“I’m your biggest fan.” Gemma gushed. “I love your music so much!”
“Then you’re in luck.” Eric gave her a self-important smile. “I’m about to sing for you.”
Gemma’s squeal of delight drowned out the protest I started to make. And anyway, Eric had already grabbed his guitar and was stepping onto the low stage, positioning himself behind the microphone. As he slung on his guitar, the crowd surged forward, pushing the chairs to the side and jostling for space in front of him.
“Testing,” Eric said into the microphone. He strummed his guitar a few times. Then he grinned at the crowd, clearly feeding off their excitement. “I’m Eric Storm, lead singer of a little band called Storm Front, and I’m going to sing a song I wrote that was inspired by the love of my life, Magdalena Solis.” He pointed through the crowd to me and I shrank back with a grimace. “It’s called ‘City Pretty’. Mags, this one’s for you.”
UGH.
He strummed his guitar and the familiar first notes of the song made several people in the crowd whoop and clap. Amber moved to one side of me, and Joy moved to the other.
“Can you believe this?” Amber breathed in my ear. “Are you going to forgive him?”
I couldn’t be surprised at the question, seeing as I hadn’t explained to Amber or Joy why I split up with Eric. They didn’t know about Spike, how Eric had lied to me, or that I was certain he’d cheated on me. Looking back now, I could see there had been dozens of red flags throughout our relationship and I’d ignored them all. No wonder his bad behavior had gotten so much worse. I should have been calling him out on it from the start.
As Eric sang, some of the crowd started dancing. Others swayed and sang along. A few held up their phones, recording him. Gemma was up at the front with some kids her age who had to be friends from school.
In seconds, Eric had managed to focus everyone’s attention on him, sideline the other musicians who were supposed to be playing, and turn our pleasant girls’ night into a rock concert...not that any of the women thronging to the front of the crowd seemed to mind. Eric kept pointing to me as he sang, and some of those women glanced back at me with curiosity and envy in their faces.
There was something about watching a man on stage that made him seem at least three times as sexy as he’d otherwise be, and Eric was handsome to start with. Everyone was clearly expecting me to swoon at his feet. And Eric seemed to be expecting it too.