Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Cece was so happy, so filled with effervescent joy, that she had to remind herself to breathe.
She sat at the jumble of tables pushed together near the corner of the room, her friends spread out around her.
There were drinks clustered in the middle, along with empty food baskets stacked as evidence of their willingness to indulge in Shooters’ fried goodness.
All of that was shoved aside to make room for dessert and lively conversation.
On Cece’s left, Paige sat with Graham, their shoulders nearly touching as they shared a plate of fried cheesecake bites.
On her right, Blaise and Brick sat close enough that their arms brushed when they reached for their glasses.
Across from Cece, Maude leaned slightly toward Ollie, their chairs angled together without either of them seeming to be aware of it.
Essie and Frank had claimed the end of the table, sitting side by side, his hand resting over hers with a kind of protective affection, a true symbol of their love for each other no matter what life brought them.
Squeezed in beside Maude was Robbie, listening, watching, taking everything in like he still couldn’t believe he’d landed in this crowd.
Or maybe that disbelief came from realizing how connected his sister was.
Cece was feeling some of that right now herself. A sense filled her of being blessed beyond measure, despite everything else that was happening in her life.
All of these people had come to support Joe. Because of her. It was touching and humbling.
For a moment, Cece just let herself look at them, at this colorful mix of people who had come together for her and Joe. Not a single one of them looked bored or like they were ready to leave.
Joe’s voice rose above the occasional clatter of dishes and low hum of conversation, his guitar warm and vibrant beneath it.
He was already a few songs into his set.
He was easy to listen to, and his relaxed way made the whole room lean in.
When he glanced their way and his gaze slid briefly over the cluster of tables, his smile shifted into something more personal. More grateful.
Cece felt that all the way through.
She hadn’t pushed anyone to come. She’d just mentioned Joe was playing tonight, that she’d love to see anyone who could make it, and one by one the women had said they’d be there, except for Blaise, who hadn’t been sure, but she’d showed up all the same. Not a single one had come alone, either.
Now, here they were. Packed into the divey strip-mall bar, acting like there was nowhere else they’d rather be. How amazing was this group of women? She had no doubt there were other places they could be. But they’d chosen to be here.
Gratitude swelled in Cece’s chest, almost painful.
Her thoughts slipped, uninvited, to the test results she was waiting on. That heavy what if that had been riding shotgun in her mind for days. She didn’t want to be back in that place. Back to discussing treatment options, back to measuring time in scans and follow-up appointments.
That had been no way to live. It had been hard physically, but emotionally and mentally, it had taken a greater toll.
She knew part of that was because she’d borne the burden alone, unwilling to share it with her daughter and put more stress on Natalie, who was already dealing with her father leaving them.
This time would be different. This time, she had friends around her. People who cared. People who’d stand shoulder to shoulder with her through the battle.
This time, she also had a lot more to fight for. A new life, a new man, a new project in her fledgling podcast.
There was still so much she wanted. She wanted to see Natalie settled and smiling again.
She wanted to watch Tyler grow up without wondering if she’d be around for his milestones.
She wanted to sit in her little “studio” and record episode after episode of Real Life: Take Two.
She wanted to talk to people who’d been knocked flat and found a way to stand again. To give others hope.
She wanted more nights exactly like this one: crowded tables, loud laughter, good music, people she cared for within arm’s reach.
Joe shifted into a slower song, the kind that quieted the room without anyone being told to hush. Cece listened, feeling the lyrics brush against her fears and settle somewhere deeper.
Whatever the test results said, whatever came next, this was her life. A little messy. Sometimes loud. Definitely beautiful. And abundantly full.
And staring around her at Paige and Graham, Blaise and Brick, Maude and Ollie, Essie and Frank, Robbie finding his feet, Joe onstage strumming magic into the night – Cece knew one thing with absolute clarity.
She wanted as much of this life as she could get.
Joe shifted into another song, this one more upbeat.
His fingers moved easily over the strings, his voice rising strong and confident over all other sounds.
Cece marveled at the fact that a man who’d once spent his days in courtrooms could now command a room like this with nothing but a guitar and the purity of his voice.
He caught her eye and smiled.
Warmth spread through her chest. She smiled back. Tonight had made it easy to forget waiting rooms and lab results. Made it easy to believe that good things were going to keep happening.
That was when some bright, glittery thing flickered at the edge of her vision. Cece’s gaze shifted without thought. When her eyes focused, she nearly choked on her sip of water.
Gigi DeLuca stood near the bar in a spangled black top, skinny white jeans, and black platform sandals, her hair and makeup fully done like she was the runner-up at some kind of beauty pageant.
Cece frowned. It wasn’t just that she was here. It was how she was here. Like she was advertising something for sale and that something was her.
She leaned slightly forward, one manicured hand wrapped loosely around what might have been a daiquiri or a colada, head moving to the rhythm, a sly smile bending her mouth. She wasn’t watching the room.
She was watching Joe.
Tracking him, really. Following the way his mouth curved around words, the way his shoulders moved in time with the beat. Cece watched Gigi’s lips curve into a smile that seemed like it had nothing to do with the music and everything to do with calculation.
Oh, no. Oh, absolutely not. Who did this woman think she was?
Cece was aware the possessiveness she was feeling was a bit over the top, but Joe was hers. She glanced back at the table, at Paige mid-conversation, Blaise laughing at something Brick had said, Maude listening to Robbie with an encouraging nod of her head. None of them had noticed yet.
She looked back at the bar.
Gigi lifted her glass to take a sip from her straw, chin down, eyes never leaving Joe. There was nothing subtle about it now. This wasn’t simple appreciation. She was appraising him. She was staking him out.
Cece’s stomach tightened—not with jealousy, exactly. With something sharper. Possession wasn’t the right word, either. She didn’t own Joe, and she didn’t want to. What she felt was a sick kind of recognition. She understood what Gigi was doing. Scoping Joe out. Deciding he was worth a shot.
And that set Cece’s teeth on edge. That feeling that if Gigi saw something she wanted, it was hers for the taking. It was the book club all over again.
Joe finished the song and chuckled at something someone near the stage said. The crowd clapped, a few hoots rising up from a corner table. Joe leaned into the mic. “Thanks, folks. I’m going to take a quick break, but I’ll be back in a bit to sing a few more.”
Gigi took that moment to step closer to the stage.
Cece’s heart thudded. She sat a little straighter, eyes fixed on the scene, pulse steadying as her resolve took hold. She wasn’t twenty-five. She wasn’t playing games. She wasn’t here to compete or perform.
But she was present and she was willing to make herself known. She was also willing to fight for what she wanted. And she wasn’t about to let Gigi DeLuca rewrite the story Cece and Joe had started simply by inserting herself into it.
Cece set her glass down carefully and leaned slightly toward Paige. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she murmured without looking away. “But is Gigi DeLuca making a move on Joe?”
Paige followed her gaze. Her eyebrows rose slowly. “I didn’t even know she was here.” She watched a little more. “Oh,” Paige said. “She absolutely is making a move.”
Cece frowned. Good to know she was right.
Paige shook her head. “How on earth did she end up here?”
Cece ground her teeth together before answering. “I may have added Joe’s event to the community calendar. I was just trying to get him a good turnout.”
“Your motive was pure. No judgment there. But…oh, boy.”
Cece exhaled through her nose, the sound halfway between a snort and a warning. Something defensive settled in her chest.
Well, then.
So that was how Gigi thought the night was going to go.
Old Gigi was in for a surprise.