Her eyes narrowed in surprise. “The Blanche MacDonald Centre?”

I nodded. “I’m working on a degree in design.”

“What about your contract, Lace?”

“If I’m not mistaken, I voided that with the drug use.” I sat up a little straighter. “Frankly, I thought you’d be glad to be rid of me. Lost cause and all.”

“I thought you told me your dream was to be a singer. Was that another misrepresentation, too?”

“No. That’s what I said. I just think fashion’s the better choice for me.” I sighed, wondering where she was going with this.

Her lips flattened and her fingers steepled together again. “The better choice or the safer choice?” Her eyes held mine in a tight grip.

Damn. This woman was perceptive as shit. Neither Bryan nor my brother, who knew me extremely well, had asked me that. “Music has always been my first love,” I said without hesitation. “But…”

“No buts.” She stopped me with a precision hand slice. “The way I see it, there’s no reason you can’t do both.” My eyes widened while she kept on talking. “They might even mesh really well together. Image is such a big part of the music business. I’m sure you realize that quite a few entertainers have their own fashion lines.”

That would be so cool.

“You’ll have to quit the waitressing, obviously. Unless you’re in love with that career path, too?”

I glanced up. Was she teasing me? Mary Timmons? I shook my head.

“That was a rhetorical question. I’m glad to know you’re on board with my plan.” She picked up her cell, sliding her fingers quickly across the screen. “Beth…No. I wasn’t calling about the Tempest thing. I haven’t made a decision about that yet.”

Whoosh. At just the mention, my memory hauled ass right back to that night in Orlando. I felt the familiar ache in my chest. The sutures on my heart were holding so far, but the prognosis was still day to day. I missed Bry constantly.

What good was a new life without him to share it with?

I let out a weary sigh, refocusing on Mary’s phone conversation.

“Yes. She’s here in my office now. I’m sending her right over. Take her to HR. I’m bringing her on as a part time employee.” Her eyes hit mine. “Four hours a day ok with you? Twenty thousand for the first six months.”

Heck yeah, I’d take it.

Numbly, I nodded. There was no way in hell I could even come close to that amount working for tips. Mary spun her chair away. Thinking I’d been dismissed, I started to stand. She swiveled back, holding up a finger. “One more thing, Lace.”

“Yes.” I gulped, my stomach doing a little nauseating side shimmy.

“Where are you staying?’

“A hostel on Pender Street.”

Mary frowned. “That’s not a very good part of town.” That was a total understatement. The place made the Avenue look like Disneyworld. She opened up her desk drawer, pulled out a couple of business cards, and handed them to me. “One of those is for a driver I keep on call. The other is for the manager at Sutton Place. I don’t want you wasting what little free time you’re going to have on public transportation, and I want you sleeping in a safe place.”

“Ok,” I managed, trying to take it all in.

“You’ll like the Sutton. It’s convenient and in a nice neighborhood only a couple of blocks from your school.” My deer in the headlights look must’ve registered with her. Her face softened.

Why hadn’t I ever noticed how beautiful she was before?

“I’m not going to sugar coat it. Working out this schedule is going to be a challenge, but one I think you can handle.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot in this business, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you. Showing up at my office three weeks in a row (so she had known) shows you have courage and mental toughness. Bringing the money back and owning up to your mistakes demonstrates integrity on your part.” She stood and held out her hand. I grasped it. “You have talent, too. I’m really looking forward to seeing what you do next.”

39

Holding the guitar by the neck, I slammed it into the wall, grunting with satisfaction when it splintered apart in my hands. Letting go where it joined the body, I watched it drop to the carpet, ruined like my life without her.

I’ve done all the waiting I’m gonna do.

What an arrogant ass I’d been.

I swiped my beer off the table and sagged into the chair. I drained it, settled back, and closed my eyes. Alone with my thoughts, and they were all of her.

What was she doing? And who was she with?

I felt completely empty without her, a brittle burned out husk. It was all wrong. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Bry? Are you ok? I heard a noise.”

“Yeah, Mom.” I turned to see her stick her head into the doorway to the garage which I had converted into a studio. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Sure.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You don’t have to ask. This is your house. I bought it for you. I just put the studio in so I had somewhere to practice whenever I’m around.”

“I know.” She pulled out a chair and sat beside me. Concerned eyes flicked to the broken guitar before they scanned my face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t.”

“Bryan Hunter Jackson. I’m your mother. That’s not an option.” Her hands went to her hips. “I want to know when you’re planning to stop moping around and take charge of your life again.”

I didn’t respond because I knew she was right.

She scooted her chair closer, smoothing out the apron she wore over her scrubs. She must’ve just gotten home from work. Her hand dropped down on top of mine. “What are you going to do about Warren?”

“What can I do, Mom?”

“You’ve been friends a long time.”

“I know.” For all his faults, I couldn’t just turn off how I felt. I was worried about him. It was like missing a limb not to have him around anymore. “I tried to smooth things over before he quit the band. When War shuts you out though, you’re out. He’s very black and white about things. You’re either with him or you’re against him.”

“Hmm.” She folded her hands under her chin and looked thoughtful. I had a feeling where she was going before she spoke, and I wasn’t wrong. “Do you remember what I told you when you first got back from Orlando?”

“I remember,” I whispered, thinking she was going to reiterate all the reasons that ending things with Lace made sense. In my mind those reasons still had some merit, but in my heart it felt all fucked up.

“I’m afraid that maybe I gave you some bad advice.”

Surprise widened my eyes as I looked at her.

A frown creased her brow. “I think I’ve let my history with your father color my judgment. So many times he made promises. So many times he broke them. But I kept taking him back, hoping each time that things would be different.”