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)
Around eleven, Xander came over and dropped into the chair next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders. “Is it over yet?”
Veronica laughed. “Not yet.”
I patted his leg. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine. You doing okay?” He glanced around. “I saw some people ask you for photos.”
“I’m totally fine. My goal is to be such a regular around here that it’s no big deal when I’m spotted. I want to be old news in Cherry Tree Harbor.”
He laughed and kissed my temple. “I want that too.”
When Xander got up again, Veronica’s eyes were huge. “I still can’t get over it,” she said. “You guys look so happy together.”
“It took us by surprise too,” I said with a laugh. “But in the best possible way.”
“So now what? Will you guys go back and forth?”
“We’re talking it out. Actually,” I said, pulling my ponytail over my shoulder, “I might stick around here for a while.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I’m in sort of a transitional space in my career, where I want to move away from the whole Pixie Hart persona and do something more personal and meaningful to me, and I think maybe taking a little time off might be good before that kind of reinvention.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “So will you rent a place in Cherry Tree Harbor?”
“I think so,” I said tentatively. “Xander and I talked about it on the flight here, and we think that’s the best plan for now. I really like it up here, and plenty of people in the industry don’t live full-time in Nashville.”
Veronica picked up her gin and soda and took a sip. “Have you decided what you’ll do about your record label?”
“If PMG won’t give me more creative control, I’m out,” I said firmly. “I’m reaching out to several people I know who left their big labels behind in favor of going indie, and even though it means less money and exposure, it also means more freedom, which feels more important to me right now. I really want to love what I do.”
“I bet they give you what you want,” Veronica said confidently.
“We’ll see.” I shrugged. “They’re definitely going to have their hands full doing damage control for Duke, so they might not want the headache of losing me at the same time. And I have some other projects in the works. I just had a meeting with a Hollywood music director about contributing some songs to a soundtrack, and we clicked really well. I’m excited about it.”
“That’s amazing. You have to follow your heart, you know? Money is nice, but it isn’t everything.”
“I agree,” I said. “It’s the music that matters to me. And the people I love.”
Xander caught my eye across the room. He lifted his hand and tapped his chest three times.
I smiled and tapped mine too.
epilogue
KELLY: ONE YEAR LATER
Before the last song of the night, I paused to take it all in.
The hot glow of the stage lights. The electric hum of the equipment. The sea of faces filling the open-air amphitheater. The thousands of phones held high, waving like stalks of wheat in a field. The starry late summer sky beyond them.
It was the final show on my tour—my first as Kelly Jo Sullivan. And despite the label’s dire warnings about the name change, the different sound on my new album, and my insistence on working with mainly up-and-coming female producers instead of their usual stable of aging good old boys, my professional renaissance had been successful beyond my wildest dreams.
I adjusted the strap on my guitar and moved closer to the mic. As always, I tapped my chest three times before beginning my closing song—my biggest hit yet—which I’d written for Xander. It was called “Lightning Bolt Love,” and it was about meeting your soul mate when you least expected it. About realizing there was someone alive who could bring you to your knees. About how no matter how hard you fought it, love would always win.
He wasn’t here, and the show wasn’t being televised, but he often saw videos people posted on social media, so I sent him our sign every single night. Despite the distance and time we were forced to spend apart, we’d only grown closer over the last year. There was no doubt in my mind he was the one for me. We hadn’t talked much about the future in concrete terms—mostly we just tried to be together as often as we could and made the most of every single minute we had. We never took a single moment for granted.
When I strummed the opening bars, a tsunami of cheers rushed toward me from the audience—they knew every single word, and they’d sing it along with me, just like fans had done at every show all over the country.
My eyes teared up as I began the song. Tonight was bittersweet for me. I was saying goodbye to a phase of my life, but I was also eager to take a break. I’d been working nonstop for the last ten months, and slowing down for a while was going to feel so good.