Giselle stood next to Mike as Charley gallivanted among the trees toward the back of the property. She could sense her friend was curious, but true to Mike’s nature, she waited patiently.
“Yes, my dear?” Giselle asked teasingly. “Something on your mind?”
“You know what I’m wondering.” Mike chuckled. “Those lyrics, and from such an unassuming woman like Tierney. Pretty daring. Bold.”
“Mike…” Now Giselle made sure she interjected a warning into her voice.
“No need to be offended. You must realize that both Vivian and I care deeply for you. And when such a perfect individual shows up just when you need assistance the most and she turns out to be so talented…add to that how the words she wrote fit you. Not to mention the current between the two of you. Every time you accidentally touched, both of you literally jumped.” Mike gently placed a hand on Giselle’s shoulder. “And don’t tell me I’m imagining things.”
“Are you going to interrogate me all through dinner, too?” Giselle wasn’t sure what she felt about Mike asking her questions, only that she’d rather pull out a tooth than answer.
“Interro—no! It’s not like that at all. It’s just that I see such a difference in you since the last time we met, and the only thing that has changed, as far as I know, is that Frances had to leave, and you have Tierney here.”
That was some accurate pinpointing. Giselle did feel different. She was completely at a loss as to what way she’d changed, but she had. Tierney had a lot to do with it, but something unfathomable was happening regardless. “You’re asking the wrong person, Mike. Tierney is a bit of fresh air around here. Frances and I have trotted along the same paths for years. I’ve felt safe that way. Now that she’s in the UK—and I finally heard from her, by the way, a text message—she plans to stay with her sister and her sister’s family for quite a while.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Mike said and moved to let Charley pass, holding a long branch in her mouth. “God, is Tierney training her to fight with weapons?”
“No. That’s an old skill. Be grateful she wasn’t carrying it far out on the end. She could have sent you sprawling.” Giselle watched her dog run like lightning across the lawn.
“So, back to the topic of changes and how Tierney factors in.” Mike motioned toward a wooden bench, and they sat down. Immediately, Charley returned and laid her stick in front of them, sinking down with a silly grin.
“You are like a dog with a bone,” Giselle said to Mike and made a face. “The most astonishing thing that happened was when she talked me into walking up to the fields with Charley earlier today. I was so sure it would end in disaster, and it nearly did, but I managed to stave off the panic attack…and not by running back to the house, but standing right there, several steps out in the field.”
“That’s a huge deal.” Mike squeezed Giselle’s hand lightly. “Was it the combo of her and the dog, you think?”
“Could be.” Giselle lowered her gaze, not wanting to meet Mike’s glance.
“Ah. So, something else as well.”
“God.” Giselle ran her hand under her hair, which she kept in a low bun. “She placed her hand on my back.” Why was she being this upfront with Mike? Yes, they were friends and had collaborated several times and known each other since Chicory Ariose was formed, but still. She never talked about personal things with anyone. Was that yet another change that had come about since her everyday life was altered? All she knew was how good it felt to have this conversation with Mike.
“Where? Bra-level, waistline, or near your ass?” Mike asked seriously, but her eyes sparkled.
“Mike!” Flustered now, Giselle realized Mike was being facetious, but her own response to Tierney’s touch had been so unexpected. Giselle could feel the impact of it even now. “If you must know, the small of my back.” And it had felt so good, so reassuring. Tierney’s touch had centered Giselle enough for her to simmer down and just stand there. Her presence had wrapped around Giselle, and the scent of her mixed with the fresh one from the woods and the field had made her dizzy in a much more enticing way.
“Ah. Very gentlewomanish.” Mike gave Giselle’s hand a quick squeeze. “And I’m teasing you. You realize that, don’t you? I’m just so glad to see you so…well, so alive. Normally I glimpse that vitality in you only when you’re at the piano.”
Giselle hadn’t known that. Of course, she had lived her life the same way for years and convinced herself this was what she had to settle for. Tierney’s influence was altering her situation, day by day. Now, though, she’d had enough of them digging through her emotional state. “She has some voice, doesn’t she?”
Mike brightened. “Oh, does she ever. It’s very unusual, as it goes back and forth between being raw and unkempt to smooth and almost sounding like she had classical training.”
“I can promise you that she’s entirely a natural.” Not wanting to break any of the confidences Tierney had shared, Giselle didn’t mention the young woman’s rough start in life. “Not only does she sing well, but she can emote, and I suspect she has perfect pitch. She heard me play that song once, recognized that her lyrics could fit, and sang it back to me as if she’d practiced for a week. I’m not sure she realizes she has that ability, but I’m willing to bet money on it.”
“Coming from you, that’s not a moneymaking bet, so I’ll take your word for it.” Mike nodded emphatically. “I could tell Vivian was taken with her voice. Since Vivi lost more of her vision, she’s become even more auditorily sensitive. She can determine now whether it’s Perry or Mason barking. I think they sound entirely the same, but she’s always right, so what do I know?” Mike bent and scratched Charley’s head. “Our boys are getting old. They’re already on borrowed time. Great Danes don’t live very long compared to some other dogs. They’re quite rambunctious though, and our vet says that for the most part they’re doing well.”
“You must bring them next time. We can keep Charley from chasing them if they think she’s too much.”
“Sounds like a great idea. Vivian would like that.” Mike looked up at the house. “I wonder if she’s giving poor Tierney the third degree.”
“Like you did with me?” Giselle said, raising her eyebrows deliberately.
“Ha. Well, yeah, kind of.” Mike began to laugh. “Busted, huh?”
“I’ll say.” Giselle nudged Mike in a friendly way. “Should we go rescue Tierney before she decides her job doesn’t have enough perks?”
“Not a chance. Tierney won’t quit that easily. Even Vivian could ‘see’ the main reason for that.” Mike winked at her and laughed.
Giselle covered her eyes with her hand. “A mad dog, a high-maintenance cat, and crazy friends. Must be bad karma reasserting itself.”
Mike only kept laughing as they walked to rejoin the other two women.
* * *
Tierney put the salmon on the griddle, checked on the potato salad, and then fetched the pitchers of iced tea and lemon water from the fridge. Perhaps if she stayed busy enough, she could dodge the third degree. Sure, Vivian was lovely, but she was also curious. Curious, and protective of Giselle, no doubt. Tierney was certain that she would be out, headfirst, if Vivian thought she was taking advantage of her friend.
“Did Giselle corner you in there, my dear? I hope you had agreed to sing beforehand?” Vivian sat at the small breakfast-nook table, her head accurately following Tierney as she readied their dinner.
“Sure. Of course. I didn’t mind.” Tierney wasn’t entirely certain how she felt about singing in front of professional performers. And not just your average local talent, but the Vivian Harding. “I just hope you weren’t taken aback. I mean, it’s not easy to have to find something nice to say, just to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.”
“Excuse me?” Vivian blinked. “Are you saying you think Mike and I praised you so you, or Giselle, wouldn’t feel bad? When it comes to our career, we don’t risk it by being afraid of rubbing someone the wrong way. Granted, I believe in letting people down gently if they’re not good enough, for whatever reason. No need to hit them over the head.” Vivian smiled wryly. “A tactic I wish some of my former voice coaches and directors had adopted. You, my dear, have a remarkable voice and the incredible gift of writing lyrics that fit the melody. Clearly you haven’t yet been given the chance to break into the industry—if that’s what you want.”
Tierney knew she was standing there openmouthed. And she wasn’t sure what she wanted, not really. “For now, I want to help Giselle,” she said quietly. “No matter what, she needs me until this Frances comes back—if she does.”
“As far as I understand, if she comes back, it won’t happen very soon. But,” Vivian said thoughtfully, “are you saying you’re not aiming for a career in the music industry?”
Sitting down on the chair opposite Vivian, merely because her knees were growing increasingly weaker, Tierney gripped the top with cold hands. “Until now, I always assumed I’d need connections to have even a remote chance. I write lyrics and poetry because it keeps me sane. Well, more or less.” Snorting, Tierney clasped her hands. “I’m really as far down the social ladder as anyone can be. Who would listen to my words?”
Vivian nodded slowly. “I understand what you’re saying, but clearly Giselle listened and found you worth paying attention to. Worthy enough for her to coax you into singing for us.”
“So, not a commonplace occurrence?” Tierney briefly stopped breathing.
“Not all. Unprecedented, in fact. I’ve never heard her sound this enthralled with anyone outside her small circle of friends and colleagues.”
Her cheeks warming now, Tierney rose to turn over the pieces of salmon. “Really?”
“Really.”
Pivoting, Tierney scrutinized Vivian, seeing nothing but complete straightforwardness. She had to change the subject before she self-combusted, so she tossed out the first question that came to mind. “How did you and Mike meet?”
Vivian chuckled. “Had enough, dear?” Then her expression changed into something soft and warm. “Mike is my knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice low and intense. “I walked into her coffeehouse on the marina one day, shortly after finding out I was going blind. She was there, behind the counter, looking young, strong, and with a kind of sorrow about her that echoed my own. I quickly found out she had a strong protective side, and soon she kept showing up when I needed her the most. Fortunately, she seemed to want and need me just as much.”
“She seems to have the protective side figured out.” Tierney tried to find the words for what she meant to ask. “I mean, she helps you, but she seems to do it in a way that doesn’t turn her into a caregiver. I’m not sure I’m making sense.”
“But you are.” A gentle smiled passed over Vivian’s elegant features. She wore bright-red lipstick and her blond hair in a rolled-up braid. “Mike is my equal in every sense of the word, but it took me a while to make her see that. And to be totally honest, she had to persuade me about the age difference.” Tilting her head, Vivian pursed her lips. “Are you asking me this as Giselle’s assistant or as…well, from another perspective?”
Tierney grew cold. How could she be so careless? Vivian’s kindness had lulled her into feeling safe about sharing almost anything, but she had to remember that this woman was Giselle’s friend. Not hers. “Her assistant. Naturally. I’m not sure what other capacity I could possibly have here.”
“Of course.” Vivian reached out to Tierney. “Now I’m the one putting you on the spot. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come across like that—all busybody.”
Unable to resist the sincerity and, yes, honest charm Vivian exuded, Tierney took the proffered hand. “No need to apologize. I’ve often been told I’m overly sensitive.” Mostly by foster parents who seemed amazed their foster child didn’t take being locked in the basement as punishment very well.
“No such thing. Either a person is sensitive, or they aren’t. In my opinion, we fluctuate depending on our situation in life. I get the feeling your childhood wasn’t all that easy.” Vivian squeezed Tierney’s hand lightly.
“No. It wasn’t. But I was often my own worst enemy, and I paid the price for it a few times.”
“I would like to hear about that one day, if you feel like sharing. You interest me, and I know Mike feels the same way. She says you feel like a kindred spirit, and since her childhood was no picnic either…perhaps she’s right.” Pulling her hand back, Vivian changed the subject. “Food smells divine. Salmon?”
“Shi—shoot.” Tierney flew off the chair and headed over to the stove. She pulled off the griddle pan and placed the salmon on warmed plates. “I think we need to get the others and—”
“No need. We’re here,” Mike said from the doorway to the foyer. “The great smell made it easy to find you. Where are we eating? I can help you, Tierney.”
“Thanks. We’ve set the table in the conservatory.” Tierney handed Mike the two tall pitchers. “They’re heavy.”
“Hey! What do I look like? Boiled pasta?” Mike grinned. “You okay, Vivi?”
“I can find my way unless Giselle suddenly rearranged her furniture.” Vivian stood. “I won’t offer to carry anything though.” Vivian laughed.
They moved into the white and blue conservatory. Surrounded by glass on three sides, it was like sitting outdoors, but in more comfort. Tierney had picked a few wildflowers and placed them in a small vase as a humble centerpiece.
“So pretty,” Mike said and then described the table to Vivian.
“It’s Tierney’s doing, mostly.” Giselle turned toward the table but then stopped and scanned it. “Wait. We’re missing one plate.”
“Yes, we are.” Mike looked over Vivian’s head at Tierney.
“Tierney?” Giselle said, frowning.”
“I set the table for you and your guests, Giselle. That makes three.” Not sure what she’d done wrong, Tierney returned Mike’s glance.
“Go get a plate for yourself. Of course you’re eating with us.” Scowling, Giselle motioned for Tierney to hurry.
When Tierney returned holding a plate, a glass, and utensils, Giselle pointed to the chair next to her. “Please have a seat.”
Tierney watched Vivian and Mike sitting together and moaned inwardly. It was one thing to sit across from someone at a breakfast table, but this…Tierney yanked out the chair and sat down. She accidentally kicked the table leg, making the plates jump. “Oh, God. Sorry. I have big feet.” Tierney felt her cheeks color.
“No, you don’t.” Mike winked.
Giselle reached for her napkin and draped it over her lap. “This looks wonderful. Thank you for cooking, Tierney. That saved me a lot of time. And I rather dislike having to resort to caterers.”
“Unless it’s something you order off the menu from the Sea Stone Café,” Mike said. “And have it delivered by yours truly.”
“Of course.” Giselle looked like she was relaxing more and more.
“You’re still actively managing your coffeehouse?” Tierney asked, curious.
“Only when we’re in town. I have a great manager who takes care of things when we’re in the studio or on tour.” Mike arranged the food on Vivian’s plate and murmured something in her ear. Vivian nodded and began eating as if nothing was wrong with her eyes at all.
“Speaking of that. Do you have a date for when you go in to the studio next time? I know you said something about this fall.” Giselle cut through the salmon, and to Tierney’s relief, the inside boasted the perfect, slightly pink color.
“Actually, we’ll start in two weeks,” Mike said. “We have four tracks ready to be cut. You don’t have to stress yourself out, though. We’re taking a long-overdue vacation, Vivian and I, after that. When we get back, in late September, we’ll start recording your songs.”
“I’ll send them to you one by one so you can have your lyricist—”
“That’s just it,” Mike said. She made an apologetic gesture for interrupting. “I want to take Tierney’s lyrics to Manon and Eryn and have them listen. If they like them as much as Vivi and I do, perhaps we’ll commission more.” She looked over at Tierney. “What do you think? Interested?”
Tierney felt trapped by her rampaging emotions. To have established artists interested in her texts was amazing, but what if accepting such a chance pulled her away from Giselle, who needed her? “I, uh…It’s flattering, but—”
“Don’t turn them down,” Giselle said. She gave Tierney a pointed look. “If the rest of your lyrics are good enough, this could become your stepping stone to a better future. After all, your employment here is temporary.”
The thud in the pit of her stomach had to be her heart breaking from its moorings. Rapidly, her untethered heart fluttered like a fish pulled up on the dock. “But…”
“Tierney.” Giselle’s voice held some caution but mainly sounded kind.
Slowly slumping against the backrest of the wicker chair, Tierney held on so hard to her utensils, her knuckles whitened. “So, late September. Sounds fantastic. Count me in.” This would give her about eight weeks with Giselle.
Trying not to devour Giselle with her eyes, Tierney assumed her trademark broad, sparkling smile even as a tiny, unwelcome voice inside her head kept repeating, “Eight weeks to last you a lifetime.”