Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Yes,” I said, feeling sure of myself. “Fuck that guy for thinking he can get money out of me. Let him come after me in court if he wants. I won’t be bullied into paying him. If he knew it was happening and said nothing, he’s guilty in my view.”
“Mine too.” He paused. “How’s your trip?”
“It’s good. But I was spotted pretty fast.”
“I saw the photos. How many photographers are up there?”
“You know what? I haven’t seen any, so I have no idea.” I thought for a moment. “Which is kind of strange. I wonder if there’s only one guy, and he’s keeping his distance.”
“Who’s the guy with you in the pics? Is it the bodyguard?”
“Yes.” I smiled as the scent of frying bacon wafted down the hall and into the bedroom. “Turns out, he’s not so bad. But he’s seriously pissed about the photos that were taken on the property here.”
“Rightly so. I’m glad he’s around. You be careful.”
“I will. Bye, Wags.”
We hung up, and I was feeling so confident and plucky, I decided I could even handle listening to Duke’s latest voicemail, which he’d left yesterday.
His smooth voice made my shoulders tense up. “Hi Pix, it’s me. I know you’re on your little vacation, but I have an opportunity for you. How would you like to perform the opening number at the Music City Awards?”
I gasped. The Music City Awards were a big fucking deal.
“Rebecca Rose and I were slated to perform ‘Back Where We Started.’ But she has to have surgery on her vocal cords next week, and the show is a week after that. The producers came to me and asked if I had any idea who they should ask to fill in. Of course, I thought of you right away. If you’re interested”—he laughed—“and I know you are, give me a call back.”
Well, damn.
Performing the opening number at the Music City Awards would be amazing—bucket list amazing—and I wanted to jump at it. But filling in for Rebecca Rose on “Back Where We Started” would mean performing a romantic duet about a second chance at love with Duke. Could I stomach it? He was tricky and manipulative. What if he was dangling this opportunity with strings attached?
Phone in one hand, I picked up the cup of coffee Xander had brought me with the other and wandered out to the kitchen. After warming it up in the microwave, I sat at the counter and watched him scramble eggs and flip bacon. He had a kitchen towel tossed over one shoulder, and his hair was a mess.
“Are you going to make breakfast for your wife and three kids?” I asked.
“All the time,” he said, adjusting the heat under the eggs. “It’s the most important meal of the day.” Then he turned around and noticed my expression. “What’s wrong? More photos?”
“No.” I exhaled. “It’s Duke.”
Xander’s face darkened. “What about him?”
I told him about the offer to fill in for Rebecca Rose at the awards show. “It would be really hard to say no. Like, twelve-year-old me used to dream about this every night.”
“So say yes.”
“You think I should?”
He shrugged. “Do you want to sing on that stage?”
“Yes. With all my heart.”
“Then don’t let anyone stop you.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is.” He put some eggs and two strips of bacon on a plate and set it in front of me. “If something will make you happy, I think you should go after it. I used to have this argument with Austin all the time.”
“Oh yeah?”
He put the rest of the eggs and bacon on his plate and came around the peninsula to sit next to me. “Yes. There’s always going to be a reason why you shouldn’t—and sometimes the reason is completely valid. But I believe in going after what you want. I think fortune favors the bold.”
“Is that why you did things like jump off garages into baby pools and try to prove you could fly?”
“No. That was just ego.” He ate half a strip of bacon in one bite. “But this isn’t about ego, and it’s not about Duke. It’s about Kelly Jo Sullivan.”
I sucked in my breath. “Xander! You’re right!”
He held his arms out wide.
Laughing, I grabbed onto one. “I’m going to ask to perform not as Pixie Hart, but as Kelly Jo Sullivan! No gimmicky sets, no crazy costumes, no glittery makeup. No made-up, manufactured character. I just want to be me up there and sing from the heart.”
“Then do it.”
“I will.” Sliding off the stool, I planted a kiss on his temple. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to call Duke.”
Xander picked up his coffee cup, but he didn’t say anything.
Back in the bedroom, I sat on the edge of the bed and made the call.
“Hey, honey. How’s my Pixie girl?”
I cringed. “I’m fine.”