Lucy Jordan sat in the grass, leaning against the front of her rental car as the Jefferson Class of 2002 got ready to start the memorial service for her best friend. Former best friend, that is. Even from one hundred yards away, she could see Leah’s pretty face smiling at her from the big picture propped up on an easel, flanked by huge flower arrangements. The picnic for day three of their ten-year reunion was being held at a swanky country club. Leah’s service was taking place by a small pond. She would’ve liked that. Leah loved the water. She adored fancy things, too.
No one seemed to notice Lucy sitting so far away. She’d gotten a prime spot at the front of the parking lot so she could see the festivities without having to take part. She was wearing all black—even the scarf covering the scar on the side of her face. Her rental car was black, too, so she blended in. Not being noticed was a good thing. Lucy was done being the center of attention.
The few people there with kids chased after them while others sat at round, wooden tables with umbrellas shading them. Laughter and chatter floated on the breeze. Lucy tried to remember the last time she’d laughed.
She plucked a blade of grass and curled it around her finger. Despite several invitations and personal phone calls from the organizers, Lucy hadn’t planned to come back for the reunion. She’d already paid her respects to Leah at her funeral when she died four years ago. Why would she have to come to a ten-minute ceremony at their class reunion? But at the last minute, she’d packed her bags and taken a flight back to Boston, because knowing Leah, she’d probably haunt Lucy’s ass and go all poltergeist on her if she didn’t come to the memorial and look appropriately distraught.
Hopefully sitting on the edge of the parking lot counted as paying her respects.
A few butterflies darted past her as Lucy scanned the crowd gathering for the service. There was no one she wanted to see and plenty of people she didn’t. Although she hadn’t wanted to see anyone since the accident. It was risky coming here. The press was dying to get a photo of country singer Lucy Jordan all banged up from the car accident her drunk ex had caused, living as a recluse like someone in one of her songs. It had been six months since the accident. They had to lose interest in her sometime, right? More likely though, she was making herself an even bigger tabloid target.
Lucy could hear someone’s shrill voice bringing the memorial service to order. She didn’t need to hear the words to know what was being said. Undoubtedly something about Leah’s sparkling personality, how she was sorely missed by her classmates. Basically, a load of crap, because most of the people in their class had been just as rotten to Leah as they had to Lucy. That is, until Leah started dating Joe Latham. That’s when Leah stopped dyeing her hair pink and took out her piercings. At least she hadn’t ditched Lucy, but conforming to the cool crowd had strained their relationship.
“I’m not conforming,” Leah had said. “I’m growing up. You might want to try it.” Their relationship had definitely cooled, but they’d still kept in touch, even after Leah went to college and Lucy went to Nashville with the crazy idea that a violin-playing girl could become a fiddle-toting country-music star. Nashville had never seen anything like her with her wild hair and deft fingers. She’d put out an indie record that blew up the charts and had been courted by several labels before signing a deal. Not bad for a girl with two lawyers for parents who thought she’d follow in their footsteps. Lucy never wanted to be what people expected of her.
The memorial appeared to be wrapping up as people walked over to the pond and each person grabbed a handful of rose petals to toss in the water.
“Excuse me, this is a private event.” A voice behind her surprised her and she adjusted her scarf.
“That’s fine. I was just leaving.” She stood up and grabbed her cane off the ground, leaning on it for support.
“Lucy?”
She knew that voice, but couldn’t place it. Turning to look, she saw it was Joe Latham. Leah’s old boyfriend. The guy who had ruined Lucy’s senior year.
He looked just as surprised to see her. “I didn’t think you were coming,” he said.
“I didn’t either. But now I’m leaving, and I’d really appreciate if you didn’t mention to anyone I was here. I came for Leah, not for anyone else.”
“I won’t tell a soul.” Joe took a step closer. “But honestly, how are you handling everything?”
She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight off her injured leg. “Because you care.”
“I do. You were Leah’s best friend. I’m sure her death still hurts. Hell, we’d been broken up for three years when she died, but I still can’t help but wonder how many times my face was swimming in her brain right before she shoved that needle in her arm.” He gestured down to the pond. “This ceremony today was harder than I’d imagined, seeing so many old pictures of her before all the problems started. I came up here to be alone. Then I noticed you.”
“Like I said, I’m leaving.” Lucy searched for her keys in her purse.
“Hiding just makes it worse. The press is dying to know why you won’t come out of seclusion.”
“Oh, well. Maybe sales of my old records will shoot up the charts with all the publicity,” Lucy said, wondering why her keys always did a vanishing act when she needed them most.
“A new album at this point would sell like gangbusters. I know a thing or two about publicity.” He crossed his arms in his expensive button-down shirt.
She jutted her chin at him. “That’s right. You’re Tripp McCall’s lackey. You’re riding your best friend’s coattails.”
He pressed his eyes closed and forced a smile. “I’m his executive advisor.”
“Lackey,” Lucy repeated.
Joe ignored her. “He’s done incredible things with his company. And I know enough about publicity to say you’re missing a golden opportunity.”
“I’ve got enough money. Right now I want privacy and time alone.”
He held up his hands. “Working with Tripp, I deal with some big problems. I’m good at telling people what they need to hear.”
“I don’t want to hear anything from you.” Her fingers grazed the cold metal of the keys at the bottom of her purse. She fished them out.
“I’m also good at telling people what they don’t want to hear.”
“Joe, you don’t owe me anything. What you did to me senior year didn’t scar me for life. So throw aside the guilt and go back to the party. As you can see, I’ve endured far worse than being voted Homecoming Queen as a joke.”
Joe reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. “Just in case you ever change your mind about that advice you think you don’t want. We’re staying on Tripp’s yacht at Rowe’s Wharf for a few more days. The Second Chance.”
She smirked. “Not everyone gets one of those.” She climbed in her car, shoved her cane in the back seat, and pulled out of the lot. She tossed Joe’s card out the window.
Lucy had planned to head back to her home in Nashville, hopefully without having to spend the night anywhere—it was never fun to wake up from a nightmare in a strange room. Considering it was an eighteen-hour drive, she’d probably have to take a nap in a rest area at least. But instead of heading home, she found herself driving to Leah’s old house in Braintree. Leah’s mother still lived there, and Lucy wanted to see how she was doing.
Lucy pulled in front of the old Cape-style house and hobbled up to the front door. The paint was peeling and the shrubs were overgrown. It looked like no one lived here anymore, but there was a car in the driveway. But to be honest, Leah’s mother had stopped living after Leah died. Lucy rang the doorbell. She heard some shuffling and the door opened. Mrs. Carr’s eyes widened with alarm at first. Then Lucy remembered her scarf. She pulled it down off her mouth. “Hi, Mrs. Carr. It’s Lucy Jordan. I was in town for Leah’s memorial at the class reunion. I thought I’d stop in and say hi.”
Mrs. Carr opened the door, eyed Lucy’s scar, and reached out her withered hand. Lucy knew she was only in her late fifties, but she looked at least a decade older. “How are you, dear? I didn’t recognize you. Come in. I’ll make tea.”
Lucy followed her in and sat down in the living room, the walls still lined with pictures of Leah. Her stomach clenched. Seeing a picture of Leah a hundred yards away was one thing. Seeing them up close like this left her reeling. She expected Leah to come bounding down the stairs any minute.
When Mrs. Carr came back with her tea, they chatted about the old days and even laughed few times. She was kind enough not to ask Lucy about the accident. After two hours passed, Lucy pulled out her phone to check the time. “I need to start heading home now.”
Mrs. Carr pressed her lips together. “There’s something I must tell you before you go. A secret I swore I’d keep for Leah, but I think you should know.”
Lucy’s stomach turned. “Nothing’s going to shock me now, Mrs. Carr. She and I both had some rough years.”
Mrs. Carr stared at the window, kneading her hands in her lap. A few moments passed before she said anything. “Not long before she died, Leah came over, real upset. It was October, homecoming weekend at Jefferson High. She’d gone to some of the alumni events.” Mrs. Carr looked like she was going to cry, but regained her composure.. “Anyway, she said she’d done something horrible to you years back and was wondering if she should tell you.”
“Something horrible to me? What?”
Mrs. Carr looked at the floor. “The homecoming queen thing. She’s the one who stuffed the ballot box as a joke.”
Lucy’s empty teacup slipped from her grip and bounced on the carpet. She shook her head. “No. Leah didn’t do it. Her boyfriend, Joe, did.”
Mrs. Carr tightened her mouth. “See, that was part of the reason she was so upset. Joe took the blame for her and a lot of heat, too. He wanted to protect her. But she’s the one who did it.”
Lucy’s heart was racing. “Why? Why would she do that? I don’t understand. She comforted me. I tried to act like it was no big deal, but I cried the next day. And she was there for me.” Her eyes darted around the room as if she were looking for something to help it all make sense. The pictures of Leah now looked like she was smirking, not smiling.
“I know, dear. I think that’s why it was weighing so heavy on her heart that she had to tell me. She wondered if she should tell you.” She sighed. “I told her no. What good would it do? You were a successful singer, you seemed to be doing fine. Why stir up so many old hurts? Why tarnish the memory of your relationship?”
“So why are you telling me now?”
Mrs. Carr’s shoulders slumped. “It’s weighing on me that it wasn’t the right decision. And I wasn’t sure if you had any suspicions that she was the one. If you did, I just wanted you to know how very sorry she was. How horrible she felt about it and about letting your relationship wither away.” She shrugged. “Who knows if I’ll ever see you again? This might be my only chance to clear things up.”
Lucy kept her mouth tight and her eyes dry. Leah’s mother didn’t need more heartache now. She just nodded and said, “Thanks for telling me.”
“And thank you so much, dear, for stopping by. I do hope you’re able to get back on your feet after that terrible crash.” She stood up and walked over to Lucy, reaching out for a hug.
Lucy rose from the chair and hugged her. “I’m hanging in there.”
Lucy left the house and got in her car in a daze. Leah had been behind one of the most humiliating moments of her life. Sure, Lucy had always tried to play it off. She’d even joked about it when she won her first Country Music Award. “Up until now, the only thing I ever won was Homecoming Queen back in Boston. And that had been a joke.” The audience had quieted for a moment until they heard her laugh, then they laughed too.
“She’s No Joke Now,” one of the headlines had read the next day. But really, she hadn’t thought about it in a long time. Not until she got the invitation to her reunion.
Anger was burning in her belly as she drove toward the interstate. She swore to herself and headed downtown instead. She owed Joe an apology. And he owed her an explanation.
***
Joe walked along Rowe’s Wharf toward the yacht his best friend, Tripp McCall, had bought to host their high school’s ten-year reunion. Tripp was spending one more night out with friends before they flew back to Dallas and the crew took the boat to its new home in Galveston. Joe had a bit of business to catch up on. Like what to do with this new yacht.
Certainly he and Tripp would find a way to use it with Tripp’s company, McCall Me Inc., the global Internet calling service that had made Tripp a multimillionaire and made Joe his right-hand man. Executive Advisor was his official title. What it really meant was offering advice, wanted and unwanted, and keeping his fun-loving boss in line.
He boarded the ship, the Second Chance, and the first mate came right over to him. “Mr. Latham, you have a guest waiting for you in the lounge.”
“Who?”
“A Miss Led. I suspect that isn’t her name, but I told her she could wait. I hope that was okay.”
Joe raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yes, that was fine. Thank you very much.” Joe walked toward the lounge and pushed his way through the swinging door. Lucy Jordan was sitting on a couch, looking out over the water, her cane resting against the side of the couch, her scarf around her neck but still revealing the top of her scar. Her curly burgundy hair shone in the sun coming through the window.
Joe blinked a few times. “You’re the last person I would’ve expected to find in here.”
She turned to him. “Well, I had an interesting conversation with Leah’s mother.”
“Oh?” There was only one conversation he could imagine would bring Lucy Jordan back to see him.
“She told me you weren’t behind the homecoming joke. Leah was.”
“Does it matter now?” Joe asked.
“Yeah, it does. And you’re going to tell me exactly what happened. Because I saw you coming out of the lobby that night carrying the ballot box. Then you handed it to the gym teacher who was supposed to be supervising the damned thing but spent the whole night trying to stick his tongue down the health teacher’s throat. Leah was nowhere near the box.”
Joe scratched his head. “I took the box away from her after I saw her pulling some of the ballots out and stuffing it with new ones.” He sighed. “I lost track of her for a bit, and after looking for her for fifteen minutes, I spotted her in the lobby. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she was putting you in the spotlight where you wanted to be. I tried to stop her, but she said it would be funny and then Mr. Gunderman came looking for the ballot box. I told him I thought it had been tampered with. But as you pointed out, he wasn’t that interested in anything but Miss Healy that night.”
“Why would she do that?” Lucy asked. “Why did she think I wanted to be in the spotlight?”
“You always stood out, Lucy.” Joe turned up his hands. “And she was really pissed about what you wore to the dance. She thought you were just doing it for attention.”
“She was mad about my stupid dress?”
“Yeah. You made it out of garbage bags and duct tape. Frankly, I thought it was hot. It looked like snakeskin. But Leah was… embarrassed. She was trying to move away from her alternative self.”
Lucy scoffed. “Because of you. She changed to be part of your crowd.”
“Maybe. Looking back, I don’t think she knew who she wanted to be. But that night, she didn’t want people associating her with the girl wearing Glad Bags. And she’d been drinking….”
“But she called me the next day to make sure I was okay. She came over. She cried over this with me.” Lucy’s normally deep, velvety voice was quiet and small.
“I do think she felt bad.” He never imagined he’d be telling her the truth like this. Ten years later, he thought it was behind them. The guilt and regret was pressing against his chest like an angry fist.
Lucy sat there with her eyebrows knitted together. “But why did you take the blame? Why did you let Mr. Gunderman think you did it?”
Good question. “I didn’t want to cause a huge rift between you and Leah. I knew she’d regret it. And you didn’t like me anyway. What did I have to lose?”
Lucy grabbed her cane and got up and walked across the room to the windows overlooking the wharf. She said nothing and that worried him.
“You didn’t seem too upset that night. You made a joke out of it, even. Wouldn’t it have made it worse to know it was Leah?”
Lucy stared out the window and shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Lucy. I tell people the things they don’t want to hear. That’s my job.”
“Well you should’ve done that back in high school. You should’ve told me the truth when it happened.” She sighed and looked at the ceiling. “She was probably pushing away my face with those needles, too.”
Joe didn’t answer. “Leah changed quite a bit over the years, as you know. She wasn’t happy with who she became.”
“I’m not sure what to say to you,” Lucy said.
“Well, I know what to say. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it happened.”
Lucy nodded and stood up to leave. “Thanks for your time. And your honesty.”
The first mate stuck his head in the door. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but there are a few members of the paparazzi hanging around by the boarding ramp. You might want to alert Mr. McCall.”
“Thank you,” Joe said.
Lucy froze. “Why would the paparazzi be waiting for Tripp?”
“They’re interested in his reunion romance with Chelsea, getting back together with his high school girlfriend. They usually follow him wherever he goes.”
She leaned on her cane with both hands. “I can’t leave with them standing out there. They might recognize me.”
“You’re hiding from them because of the scar?” His finger traced a line from his ear to his chin following the path her scar had left.
“And the limp. Don’t forget that.” She looked up at the ceiling. “And I’m not hiding. I’m just… not ready to talk about what happened.”
“But once you talk about it, they’re going to move on to the next story of the day. Trust me, Tripp has gotten himself into some predicaments. There were these belly dancers…”
She held up a hand. “My damn life has turned into a country song. And my drunk boyfriend crashing my car is just one more thing to paint me into a corner I don’t want to be in. I want my life to be different than it is.”
“You sound like Leah.”
“Maybe, but I don’t want anyone dictating what that will be. And that’s what the press will do with this story. They’ll make me into something I don’t want to be.”
He nodded. “Let me see if I can get rid of the photographers and then you can head home if that’s what you want.” Joe ducked out of the room.
***
Lucy sat back down, her head spinning. What a long drive she had ahead of her. But what did she even have waiting for her at home? She didn’t have another reconstructive surgery scheduled for a month. Her label had dropped her when she wasn’t going to be able to meet her release deadline. She hadn’t even replaced the car Dirk had totaled.
The accident six months earlier had ruined every aspect of her life—her looks, her career, her faith, her love. She hadn’t even wanted to go to that damn party, but her boyfriend Dirk had said he wouldn’t be able to get in without her. And hey, he’d even drive. Her instincts had told her not to go, but she went anyway; then spent the next six months wondering why.
Joe walked back into the room with a tense look on his face.
“Are they leaving?”
He pressed his lips together. “No. They’re waiting for you.”
She dropped her head back. “They’ve been itching to get a picture of me for six months. They’re not going to leave any time soon.”
Joe paused for just a moment. “Maybe they won’t leave, but we can. We’re scheduled to fly out tomorrow, but we can just cruise down the coast for a few days and you could leave from some other city.”
“But I can’t just leave my rental car here. I’m parked on a ramp nearby. My luggage is in there.”
Joe waved her off. “I’ll have someone take care of that and get your luggage for you before we leave.”
She opened her mouth, ready to protest, but what other option was there? “That’s a lot to ask.”
“Well, I owe you, don’t I?”
“Don’t you need to talk this over with Tripp?”
“Once he knows what’s going on, he’ll agree.”
She sighed. “I hate counting on other people. And I’m supposed to let you take me out to sea?”
“Or toss you out to the sharks waiting on the pier.”
“Still hilarious after all these years.”
“I’ll grow on you.”
“Doubt it.” But Lucy had to admit there was a pulse thumping through her veins that was hard to ignore.
***
Joe went to flag down an assistant to get Lucy’s things but the truth was, he needed a moment to cool off. That woman had more fire and allure than anyone he’d ever met. He hadn’t felt this way in high school. Back then, Lucy Jordan just came across as the girl angry at life and angry at him for taking away her best friend. He’d been intrigued over the years and followed her career, always a bit embarrassed by what she thought he’d done to her. Sadly, her rise seemed to be the start of Leah’s fall. Leah even accused him of liking her.
“How could I like her? I don’t even know her! I just think it’s amazing that she’s achieved all this success.” That was before his buddy Tripp launched his company. Things between him and Leah had frayed so badly that when Tripp asked Joe to join his fledgling venture, Joe was more than happy to end things with Leah and leave town. And when she called and begged to get back together so many times, he was too busy with his new career to know she was hurting. Hurting enough to start putting poison in her body to make the pain go away.
Joe finished arrangements to take care of Lucy’s things and informed the crew they were leaving earlier than expected. He called Tripp to let him know about the plans.
“You’ve got Lucy Jordan on the boat? I’d love to come and talk with her,” Tripp said.
“Not a good idea. She needs her space right now. I told her the truth about the whole homecoming queen thing.”
“Man, I told you that night you should’ve cleared it up right away.”
Joe gripped the phone. “It seemed like the best thing at the time.”
“All right. I’ll send for my things and get a room here in Boston until we leave. I might stay a few more days. Chance Carrington had a few great ideas at the reunion for software development and I really think we’re onto something. He and I need a few more days to chat. I’ll think he’ll be joining us at McCall Me in concept development.”
“All right, boss. I’ll see you back in Dallas in a few days.” Joe ended the call and went back into the lounge where he found Lucy curled up on the couch, sleeping. He went to one of the staterooms and grabbed a blanket for her, covering her up. Then he got his tablet, settled down in a chair across the room, and got to work, trying his best not to watch her while she slept.
Joe hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in the past two years. There was too much travel, too many late-night phone calls—basically, too much Tripp in his life for most women to handle. That is, when they weren’t trying to use him to work their way up to Tripp.
He hadn’t worried too much about it. He wasn’t even thirty yet. The wife and kids would have to come later. But looking at Lucy Jordan sleeping just a few feet away from him left him wondering if investors and branding strategies and business meetings were worth it in the end.
It wasn’t the best time for Lucy Jordan to drop into his life. Yet he was happy she was there.
***
When Lucy woke, the sky was a dark blue color that could’ve meant it was dawn or dusk. She sat up and yawned and realized she had no clue where she was. A boat? Then she saw Joe Latham sitting across the room and it all came back to her. She pushed aside the blanket. “Did you cover me up?” she asked.
“Yeah, you looked cold.”
She scowled.
“That was the wrong thing to do? You have a wool allergy?” he asked.
“I have a great dislike of people taking care of me.” She stood up and had to catch her balance. “We’re moving.”
“We left port an hour ago.”
“So where are we going?”
Joe swirled the drink in his hand. “I figure we’ll spend a day or two at sea, then dock in Baltimore and you can drive or fly home from there and I’ll catch a flight to Dallas.”
“Send me a bill to cover the yacht expenses while I’m onboard.”
“I will pass that along to Tripp and he’ll laugh,” Joe said. “Your rental car was returned, and your luggage is in stateroom number six. It’s nearly eight o’clock and the chef has dinner waiting for us if you’d like to join me in the dining room.”
Her stomach growled. “Guess you won’t believe me if I said I’m not hungry.”
“Not for a minute. Do you want to get freshened up first?”
She looked down at her wrinkled black dress and realized her scarf had slipped off while she slept. She spotted it on the couch and put it back on. “I’m fine. We can go eat now.”
Lucy was dreading the dinner, but she couldn’t be rude, not after all the kindness he’d shown her. Not after all the bad wishes she’d sent his way over the years because of the prank it turns out he never pulled.
Joe pulled out her chair for her and she had to admit Joe was handsome with curly black hair and big brown eyes. His lashes were longer and fuller than hers, even after double-dosing on mascara. And clearly, he was thoughtful. Gallant even, taking the blame for his girlfriend so long ago. Why he hadn’t been scooped up by some gold digger, she had no idea. But maybe work kept Joe too busy for love.
“When do you think you’ll get that next album out?” Joe asked. “I was disappointed the label canceled it.”
She sat down and rested her cane against the table. “I couldn’t meet their deadlines. I’m honestly not sure I’ll ever get it out.”
“You can’t mean you’re not going to sing again.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s time to move on to something else.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re incredible. No one has a voice like you. And your song writing? ‘Hang Your Heart Next To Mine?’ Genius.”
A waiter brought out a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass and promised to have the food out shortly.
“You like country music?” she asked.
“I like your music.”
“You actually listen to it?” She figured he was probably just being polite.
“I’ve got every song of yours on my tablet.” He grabbed it off the chair next to him, did a bit of tapping, and suddenly Lucy’s voice was filling the space around them. “You Wronged Me” was her breakout hit.
“The jilted girl’s anthem,” Joe said. He sang along with the words. “I thought you were Mr. Right…” Then he snapped his fingers for two beats. “…Until you wronged me.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What? Have you seen the way women go nuts at bars when this plays? I swear, every single female in the place hits the dance floor when this song comes on.” He shrugged. “I think men request it just to see women dance.” He laughed. “So, was there a Mr. Right who wronged you? Did something in real life inspire the song?”
Lucy’s throat tightened and she took a drink of her wine. Maybe it’s because she was tired, or maybe it was because she’d had such a crazy day, but she decided to tell him. “It is. But it wasn’t cheating like everybody thinks. We both know there’s more than one way to wrong a person.”
Joe set down his drink and stared at her. “You’re not suggesting this song’s about me.”
“It’s not about you so much as inspired by you. I thought Leah was so lucky to scoop up someone like you. Here she was, one of the oddball girls like me, and she started dating one of the cute, popular guys. I thought, ‘She got her Mr. Right.’” She sighed. “And then you wronged me. Or so I believed.”
“I think I deserve a follow-up now that you know the truth.”
She laughed. “Maybe. If I ever write again.”
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t. What is it about this accident that’s paralyzed you?”
She gave his question some thought. She’d had a hard time even talking about this with the therapist she’d seen twice. “I’m weak now. I walk with a limp, and I don’t know if that will ever go away. I kick ass onstage, and how am I going to do that now? I’m a gimpy, scarred girl. That’s not what my fans want. I’ll admit it. I’m afraid of being rejected. I’ve worked so hard all my life to be who I want to be and this is not it, but I have no control over the situation. The piercings, my tattoos—those are all things I chose to do. I didn’t choose this,” she said, pointing to her scar. “For the first time in my life, I feel like a victim. My ex caused this crash and walked away without a scratch. He dumped me after what he did to me. It’s like I’m living one of my damn songs, and I don’t like it.”
Joe reached across the table and squeezed her hand. She didn’t pull away. “The strength of a person isn’t measured by whether or not they get knocked down, but by whether or not they get back up. You need to get back up. Your fans need you to get back up because if they know you can’t, how can they when life knocks them down?”
She glared at him. “My day was a whole lot easier when I still thought you were a jerk.”
“I’m glad you finally learned the truth. I wasn’t ever going to tell you, but I have to admit it sucked knowing what you thought of me.” He laughed bitterly. “It only took ten years to clear all that up.”
“You were right to cover for Leah. I should thank you. It would have been devastating at the time to know Leah had been behind that.”
“I’m glad I made the right decision. But the way you’re hiding right now? That’s the wrong decision. I think it would be incredibly kickass for you to get onstage and let the world see this tragedy did not pull you under. It’s just a scar. Your face is still beautiful. Your eyes are still like emeralds. Once you get onstage, no matter if you stride on up there or take your time with a bit of a wobble, all that matters is your heart. Your fans want your heart.”
She looked down, blinking back tears. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Hell, when Mr. Gunderman announced your name as homecoming queen and everyone started laughing and whispering, I thought I was going to throw up. I figured you might, too. I couldn’t imagine how much that must’ve hurt you. And when you passed by me to go up on the stage, I saw your hands shaking. You knew the punks in our class wouldn’t have voted someone like you homecoming queen for real. But you went up on that stage and you didn’t cry, you held your head high and let Mr. Gunderman put the crown on you.”
“I don’t think he even realized it was a joke until he heard the laughing. He quietly asked me if I wanted the crown or not. I thought about leaving the stage, but I knew I’d also regret running away.” Images from that night danced in her brain. She wouldn’t admit it to Joe, but it still stung. “So Mr. Gunderman just accused you of doing it?”
“He found the old ballots in the garbage. They talked about doing a recount with the ones thrown away but decided just to leave it. And that’s what I decided, too. I couldn’t rat out Leah. She regretted it immediately, I could tell from the look on her face. So I took the blame.”
“You got a week’s detention, didn’t you?”
“Two weeks.”
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t mind. I felt bad it happened. And even though some of the jerks made fun of you, just as many people quietly admired your bravery. Lucy, if you could hold your head high back then, you can do it now.”
The waiter arrived with their dinners. Lucy was glad for a break in the conversation. She hadn’t been expecting such an intimate talk with the guy from high school she had both despised and desired.
She took a bite of a divine piece of grouper. “Thanks again for doing this for me. This must be a huge inconvenience for you.”
“Not at all. I haven’t been out to sea on this baby yet. It’s wonderful. And I don’t mind helping out a friend.” He frowned. “Not that you consider me a friend.”
“I think I can give you an upgrade from first-class ass to friend now that I know the truth. I was so mad at Leah for not dumping you after what I thought you did to me, but I can see why she loved you so much.”
Joe set down his fork and knife. “I wish there was something I could’ve done to save her. Even after I’d left and we were broken up, I came back and staged an intervention. She checked into rehab but left after five days.”
“I should’ve given her more of my time. But being on the road is just insane. Most days, I woke up and had no idea where I was. I always meant to call, but…” The tears started slipping out and she swore.
Joe scooted his chair next to hers and put his arm around her. “I don’t think it would have made a difference. Leah wanted to be someone she wasn’t and didn’t know how. She didn’t know how to have your courage. She didn’t know how to find her own thing. Addiction runs in her family. When you add those things together, it’s a terrible combination.”
Lucy surprised herself by leaning into Joe. “Her death bothers me more than I’ve wanted to admit. I kept trying to tell myself we weren’t really friends anymore. And there’s part of me shouting, ‘Maybe that’s why it happened.’”
“I think her self-destruction was inevitable.” He rubbed his thumb along Lucy’s shoulder.
Lucy pushed away her uneaten food. “That was amazing, but I’m just not hungry.”
“I know what you mean.” He stood up and offered his hand. “Want to go out on deck?”
She grabbed her cane. “Sure. But I can manage on my own.”
“I think if you got yourself a cool walking stick, you could make those the next fashionable thing. Wood carvers across America would be forever grateful.”
She laughed. “That’s not a bad suggestion. This does make me feel decades older than I am.”
Joe grabbed his tablet and held it up. “So we can listen to more of your music.”
She snatched the bottle of wine and held it up. “So I can listen to more of my music. These days, it can be hard to hear it.”
Collecting their glasses, he gave her a sympathetic smile. He led her out onto the deck to a circular seating area. A hot tub bubbled next to it. They sat down and he turned on her music. “Have you heard from your ex since the accident?” Joe asked.
She poured them each some more wine. “Only when he texted me and told me I was a bitch for testifying against him at his indictment.” Lucy shook her head. “That relationship was on the skids anyway. I don’t think he can bear to face what he did to me. I want nothing to do with that coward. He was just using me anyway, trying to break into the business. He had me totally fooled.”
“How did you get in? It’s not like you were dreaming of being a country singer since you were a little girl. It was more of a lark, right? I’ve read the stories about your indie album, but I want to hear the story from you,” Joe said.
They spent the next two hours talking about her first days in Nashville and the thrill of knowing fans responded to her music. She didn’t even mind hearing her songs playing in the background while they chatted. For the first time since the accident, her music made her smile again.
She yawned and stretched. “Today has totally kicked my ass. I’m going to hit the sheets.”
“It’s been an interesting day, that’s for sure. Let me walk you to your room.”
They walked downstairs and he stopped in front of her room. “Goodnight, Lucy.”
“Goodnight. Thanks for everything.” She went into her room, changed into her nightgown, and dropped onto the bed, falling asleep in minutes.
***
Joe woke with a start and sat up. He’d heard something. A deep moaning noise came from across the hall. Lucy’s room, he thought to himself. The frightening sound continued and he grabbed his robe from the chair next to his bed and dashed across the hall. Her door was closed, so he tapped on it. “Lucy?”
No answer, but she kept crying. He frowned, not certain what to do. Then she screamed and he opened the door and rushed to her.
She was sitting up in bed, crying. Her hands were pressed against her face. He sat on the bed next to her and put his arm around her. “Shh, you’re okay. Shh. You must’ve had a bad dream.”
She buried her face in his chest and nodded. “I can’t remember the accident when I’m awake. I can only remember the horrible dreams I have.” With a shudder, she let out a soft cry.
Joe smoothed his hand along the back of her head, the ridges of her curls silky against his skin. “It must’ve been horrific. I’m so sorry. Lie back down and try to sleep.”
“I can’t. Once I wake up from one of these dreams, I usually can’t go back to sleep. Most days, I’m walking around like a zombie. That’s why I fell asleep on the couch earlier.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder. “Just try. I’ll stay here with you.”
She snorted softly but didn’t say no.
“No one wants to be alone when they’re frightened. I’ll just lie here with you. You can trust me.”
She lowered herself onto her pillow and curled up on her side. Joe crawled onto the bed and lay beside her. She was still sniffling, so he rubbed her arm. She relaxed under his touch.
Joe was reminded of her song, “Through a Storm.” He started humming the tune.
She rolled over to look at him. “That’s one of my songs.”
He started singing it softly. “Why do I always feel like I’m walking through a storm…”
She curled back up, letting him sing for a few minutes. “You weren’t in chorus, were you?” she murmured, snuggling into his embrace.
With a little laugh, he wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her closer. She didn’t protest. He went back to humming and she sighed. He paused for a moment, then placed the softest kiss on the back of her neck.
Waves slapped against the side of the boat. “Don’t stop…” she said.
He felt his eyebrows rise. “Don’t stop what?” he whispered. The kissing? The humming?
But she was asleep, her soft breaths slow and rhythmic. He lay there, uncertain how she’d feel if she woke and found him next to her. He moved back from her, but she rolled over and draped her arm across him, pinning him against the bed.
Before he drifted off to sleep, he spent at least half an hour lying there, marveling at how the woman who’d hated him more than anyone in the world just a few hours ago was now snuggled in bed with him on a yacht in the Atlantic Ocean.
***
Lucy woke feeling surprisingly rested, then she noticed the body next to her. She scooted back from Joe, slowly remembering how he’d come into her room when another nightmare woke her.
His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her.
“I didn’t know you were going to stay with me all night,” she said.
“Me neither. But I fell asleep.”
She pulled the blankets around her. “That’s okay. It was nice, actually. Usually I can’t fall asleep for a long time after those dreams. If at all. But you were humming…” Then she remembered he’d kissed her neck. Without thinking, her fingers went to the spot as if she could feel proof it had really happened.
Joe quickly looked away. “I’m going to go talk with the captain, then check my e-mail to see what emergencies are erupting. Do you want me to join me for breakfast?”
“Sure. I’ll come to the dining room in an hour. I’m going to take a long, hot shower.”
Joe left and she stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Joe Latham had just spent the night with her. What kind of crazy, mixed-up world was she living in? That damn song of hers was all wrong now. Joe still seemed like Mr. Right. But he hadn’t wronged her, no ma’am.
She walked into the bathroom, her leg stiff and aching. She undressed, careful not to look in the mirror so she wouldn’t have to see the scars along the right side of her body. The doctors had told her that her body had produced too much collagen as it healed, leaving pink, raised, scars where she’d been injured in the crash. Hypertrophic scars, they called them. She’d been for several treatments, applied cream, and massaged the scars as instructed. She’d gone through a round of laser surgery with some improvement, but there was no promise they’d ever totally go away. It could take years, if ever.
She stepped into the steamy shower, feeling much happier than she had in quite a while. Isolating herself had been difficult; she was a social person. She’d refused her mother’s request to come and stay with her after the accident. Her mother had seemed secretly relieved. Then Lucy had let her assistant go because there was no work for her to do once the latest record deal went bust. She’d been alone for months.
Lucy let the hot water spray over her body, realizing for the first time since the accident that she was excited about the day ahead of her.
And that scared the crap out of her.
***
Lucy joined Joe in the dining room, wearing the only clean outfit she had left. Joe was dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved, button-down shirt. He was clean-shaven and his hair was damp; totally different from her ex, Dirk. Dirk was tall with blond dreads and a perpetual smirk. Most of his clothes did not have buttons. She’d been taken in by his sweet, artistic soul. Turns out he was more than a kickass guitar player, he was quite the actor, too. In the end she’d realized there wasn’t anything truly sweet about Dirk at all.
“There’s a pool on one of the decks if you’d like to go swimming,” Joe offered.
“I don’t have a suit,” she explained.
Joe stirred his coffee and tapped the spoon against the mug. “I won’t look.”
She laughed. “Too bad I didn’t know I’d be cruising for a few days. I don’t have enough clothes, no books.”
“Just relax in the sun and do nothing,” Joe offered.
She propped her elbow on the table and set her chin in her hand. “I’ve been doing nothing for six months.”
“Couldn’t you tackle some song writing?”
“I told you, I don’t even know if I’m going to sing again,” she said.
“Then someone else could sing your songs. But all those things that come tumbling out of your heart ought to make it onto paper.”
“Maybe you should be the one jotting down your words. Some of them come out real pretty.” She picked up her fork and scooped up a mouthful of eggs. They were warm in her belly.
“Nah. Remember, I tell people the things they don’t want to hear? You tell them the things they didn’t realize they already knew. Now that’s a talent.”
The back of her neck tingled and the reservoir of snappy comebacks seemed to be dried up, so she said, “I don’t even know what I’d write. I used to have dozens of songs itching to get out. Now? Nothing.” She speared a piece of cantaloupe on her plate.
He took a sip of his coffee. “All those things you didn’t get to say to Leah? Write a song about that.”
She blinked at him.
“Or to your ex, for leaving you when you needed him most.”
She frowned. “I didn’t need him. I’m glad he’s gone.”
“You wrote your biggest hit because of the homecoming queen prank. I can’t imagine what you could do with everything you’re dealing with now.”
She finished her breakfast without saying anything else.
“I’ve got some work to catch up on, so I can give you your space. There should be a notebook and paper in the desk back in your room. If you need me, I’ll be in the lounge.” He stood up from the table.
She smiled at him. “I thought this was going to be a few days of hell on this ship. It’s turning out to be real nice. Thank you, Joe.”
***
Lucy spent a beautiful day on a lounge chair under an umbrella, sipping her fill of fruity drinks, jotting down phrases and chords. Then crumpling up sheets of paper that were going nowhere and starting over again. Funny that in the end “You Wronged Me” should’ve been about Leah, she thought. By the time dinner rolled around, she had the basics of a song scribbled down on her pad. She likened fading friendships to a pair of favorite boots you thought you’d lost, only to realize they got pushed to the back of the closet but had always been there. She wasn’t sure if it worked or not, but it was a start, and the day had flown by as she wrote and watched the clouds making cheerful, puffy shapes overhead.
Joe was excited to hear about her progress at dinner. “See? You’re stronger than you know,” he said.
She smiled. “I like how that sounds.”
***
After dinner, they watched a movie on an outdoor screen on one of the decks. “I don’t think Tripp is going to regret buying this behemoth thing,” she said.
“He’ll be able to use it for lots of corporate events.”
“Or rent it out to celebrities who need a break from the limelight. This has been wonderful.”
“You have no idea how happy I am to help,” Joe said, his arm brushing against hers as they sat next to each other in the circular seating area.
When the movie ended, she stood up and stretched. “I’m going to bed. All that writing wore me out.” She shivered as a cool ocean breeze swept across the deck.
He stood up and wrapped an arm around her. “Cold?”
She nodded, and he took her in his arms and held her tight.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Is this happening?”
“If you want it to,” he said.
She nodded, and he laced his hand around the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss.
But before their lips met, his thumb brushed against the scar on her cheek. She jerked back and her hand flew to cover it. “I forgot about that. I didn’t even put my scarf on today.”
Joe grabbed her other hand. “Good. You shouldn’t worry about it.” He traced his finger just above the scar. “Your fans aren’t going to abandon you because of a scar and a limp. They’ll respect you and love you even more.”
The very idea of getting onstage again frightened her. She couldn’t dance like she used to or jump around. “I haven’t even tried to sing since the accident,” she said. “I’ve been too scared. I don’t know if the scar would restrict my mouth at all.”
“So try,” Joe offered. “I’m the only one who will hear.”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll hear too. And what if I can’t? I don’t think I can handle that.” She shrugged. “I wrote a few words today. That’s as much as I can do now.”
“It’s a good start. Let me walk you to your room.” Joe kept his arm around her as they walked downstairs to the staterooms. He lingered outside her door. “I’m right across the hall. Do you want me to come in again if it sounds like you’re having another nightmare?”
She felt so safe in his arms last night. Usually, falling asleep felt just like that—falling. But with him holding on to her, she felt secure. Lucy nibbled her lip. “What do you think about sleeping with me?” She held up a hand. “Just sleeping, that’s all I meant. Then you wouldn’t have to rush across the hall.”
“Yes,” he answered, before she even finished her sentence. “Go get ready for bed and I’ll be over in a few minutes.”
Lucy went into her bathroom and brushed her teeth and washed her face. Staring at the water swirling down the drain, she steeled herself and looked up in the mirror. She angled her face at first so she couldn’t see the scar. Then she slowly turned until it came into view.
She gulped. The pale pink swirl ran just above her jaw. She stared at it and for the first time it didn’t seem to dominate her face. It just looked like something that was there.
Flicking off the bathroom light, she tugged on her nightgown and got under the covers. Joe knocked on the door. “Come in,” she said.
He slipped into the room wearing a robe and holding a blanket. “It got a little cold last night.”
“Sorry,” she said.
He walked over to the bed and lay down, leaving a good six inches between them.
She turned off the light and rolled over on her side, facing him. Her knee grazed his thigh, but he didn’t move it.
“Sweet dreams, Lucy,” he said.
“That would be a nice change.”
***
When Lucy woke up screaming, Joe’s arms were already around her. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I didn’t know how drunk he was. I lost track of him at the party.” She sucked down a sob. “And I begged him to slow down. I begged him to let me out.” She buried her head in his arms.
He stroked her hair. “I’m glad they sent him to jail.”
“He’s already out.”
“Good. I can find him and kick his ass.”
She laughed softly through her tears. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Me, too.” He stroked her arm until she fell asleep.
***
Joe watched Lucy sleep, sad to know she’d be leaving later that day. The tenuous connection they were forming would no doubt be severed and forgotten once she stepped off the boat.
Her deep red hair splayed against the pillow, and he ran his finger along a curly strand. Her eyebrow ring glinted in the morning sun. He resisted the urge to run his tongue across her eyebrow to feel the cold metal. That’s when he decided it was best to scoot a few inches away from her.
Her eyes fluttered open and she caught him watching her. “Thanks for staying with me last night. It helped, it really did.”
“Imagine how much it would help to let other people back into your life.”
“I promise to think about that once I get home,” she said.
He sat up and swung his feet off the bed. “The captain said we’ll be in Baltimore by noon. I’m catching a flight to Dallas and can drive you to the airport or to get a rental car.”
“I could use the drive. I always think up good lyrics on a long road trip.”
He grinned. “Excellent. I’d be sad if I never heard another new song from you.”
“Look me up if you’re ever in Nashville,” she said.
He wanted to reach out to her but she was saying her goodbyes. “I’ll find a reason to be in Nashville,” he promised.
“Good.”
They stared at each, other saying nothing. Because really, what could be said?
“I’m going to get my things ready.”
That was his cue to leave. “I’ll meet you in the dining room for breakfast.”
***
After breakfast as Lucy sat on the deck with her suitcase and purse, Joe checked in with the captain. The captain frowned when Joe approached him. “It seems the press knows we’re coming. There are cameras waiting on the pier for Miss Jordan. They must’ve had an alert out in all the eastern ports to be notified of our arrival.”
Joe swore. “Well, proceed as planned and dock. I’ll find out what she wants to do.”
Joe found Lucy on the deck, smiling in the sun. He hated to give her reason to chase away that content look. “Bad news. Somehow the press found out we were coming. Cameras are waiting for you. What do you want to do?”
Her smile disappeared and she looked down at her feet. “I’m not ready to face them. But what choice do I have? I guess I’ll just have to walk past them and say no comment.”
Joe shook his head. The Lucy he pictured in his mind had her head held high, confident and vibrant. “No, you’re going to face them on your terms. There’s still plenty of work I can get done from the ship. We’ll keep sailing and find another port.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not a problem. This yacht has to be taken to Galveston anyway. Two extra passengers doesn’t change anything. But we could use some supplies. Make a list of what you need—we can call it in to a few stores and have everything delivered to the ship.”
She looked at him with the tiniest smile, shaking her head. “I can see why Tripp hired you.”
***
Five hours later they were back at sea. Lucy was unpacking her new clothes and toiletries when Joe knocked on her door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” she said.
“I took the liberty of getting a few things for you,” he said. He was holding something behind his back.
“What is it?”
He brought both arms from behind him. One held a guitar, and he raised it in the air. “So you can do some writing.” The other hand held an ornate walking stick. “So you can be a boon to the carving industry.”
She covered her mouth with her hands and walked up to him. She wasn’t sure which treasure to grab first. “Thank you,” she whispered, taking the walking stick from him. She ran her hands over the dark wood. A vine of thorny roses twisted around it, capping off with one big flower on top. “I can’t imagine how long this took to make.”
“And it took a long time to find. I called all over the city to find just the right one.”
She set the tip of it on the floor and leaned her weight against it. “This is definitely an upgrade from my granny cane.”
He handed her the guitar. “I know you play the fiddle, but I read an article about you once that said you use the guitar to write your music.”
“After everything that happened between us in high school, I can’t believe you bothered to follow my career. I figured you hated me as much as I hated you.”
His smile fell. “I was glad to see you do well.”
She set the guitar on the bed and put the walking stick down, too. She went to Joe and set one hand over his heart. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t hate you. I hated what I thought you did. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for these gifts. Thank you for helping me see that life can be good again.” She slid her arm up his chest and around his neck. Then she brought her lips to his.
Later that night when he lay beside her as she fell asleep, the nightmares didn’t find her for the first time in months.
***
Lucy spent the next few afternoons writing songs—including a follow-up for Joe called “Mr. Wronged.” She felt the same rush she used to get when creativity surged through her during song writing sessions. But as great as her days were, she anticipated the nights even more. Her nights were for Joe. When they finally found themselves entwined in each other’s arms, wanting more, she gave herself to him, scars and all. She let him trace his fingers along every jagged edge that marred her body and fell asleep in the warmth and security of his embrace.
A week after they’d left Boston, it looked like the blissful time at sea was coming to an end. They had just eaten breakfast and were reading on the deck. “I finished my song,” she told him.
“Which song?” He was lying next to her and nudged her with his knee. “The one explaining how wrong you were about me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I already wrote that one. No, this is the one about everything I’ve been through lately. The one you suggested I write.”
“Can I hear it?” he asked.
She closed her eyes. She hadn’t sung in front of anyone since the accident. She hadn’t even sung with the full volume of her voice. But she wanted him to hear her. To hear her story. So she started singing, softly at first, then belting out the mournful words about being pushed around and pushed down but getting back up again.
When she finished, she opened her eyes to see his reaction.
His eyes were locked on her. “That was beautiful—your voice, the words, everything. But the song of you fighting back shouldn’t be sad. It should be happy. Full of spirit and promise. You need to take those same words and infuse them with energy.”
She looked out at the gray expanse of the ocean around them. “You’re right.” She stood up. “I need my own fight song.”
Joe snapped his fingers. “That’s what it needs. It needs some of your fight in it.”
“I’ll be back. I’m going to my room to work on this.”
***
When she came back a few hours later, Joe looked serious. “I was thinking we could try docking in Miami today. The crew needs to stock up on supplies and I think we’ve lost the paparazzi.”
“Oh, right. Yes, sure. I’ll get packed.” Lucy went back to her room to get her things together. She folded her clothes and gathered the pages of notes and lyrics scattered across the desk. She broke into tears. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave Joe. The confidence and hope she’d found during the past week seemed to be draining from her. Being with Joe made her look ahead to the future instead of wallowing in the past.
Joe tapped on her door. “Can I come in?”
“Just a second.” She brushed away her tears and plastered on a smile. “Come in.”
He opened the door. “The captain called ahead and it looks like it’s all clear in Miami. We’ll be there in a few hours. You can finally go home.”
The tears came back full force.
He rushed to her. “What is it?”
She covered her mouth with a shaking hand. She was no delicate flower, yet here she was wilting in front of him. “I don’t want to leave you. Just me and you on the yacht—it’s been perfect. And I don’t want to say goodbye.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “Then don’t. We can stay here until the ship gets to Galveston, then we’ll figure out what’s next. You don’t have to be alone anymore, Lucy. I want to be with you. You bring light and laughter to my life. Could you work on your music from Dallas?”
“I can write anywhere.”
“Good. Because I talked to Tripp and we have a special job we need you to do for McCall Me.”
“Can I ask for one more favor,” Lucy said.
“Anything.”
“Can you set up a press conference for when I arrive in Galveston? I’m ready to face this now. I’m ready to move beyond it all. With you.”
***
Lucy stood off in the wings at the hotel conference room. She peeked into the room and saw the dozens of photographers and reporters waiting to talk to her.
Joe set his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be scared. You control this, Lucy. You have the power to make this a sad song or a happy ending. Go out there and talk to your fans. The ones who love your spirit. The ones who’ve been worried about you. The ones who want to hear you sing again. Go show them what happens when life knocks you in the mud. Go show them your fight.”
She gripped the rose on top of her walking stick. “I will. And I will never forget this is all a happy ending because of you.”
He kissed her forehead and she walked out to take back the rest of her life.
***
One year later…
Joe tapped the microphone and the crowd quieted down but the butterflies were whirling in Lucy’s stomach. It was a good feeling.
“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Joe said. “We’re excited to be back in Boston where we first came up with the idea for our revolutionary second chance software. McCall Me Inc. is proud to announce the launch of our latest product, but we’re even more excited to welcome one of country music’s biggest stars back to the stage—Lucy Jordan.”
The crowd cheered as Lucy held up her fiddle. Her heart soared.
Joe stepped aside so Tripp could continue the presentation. “McCall Me Inc. is proud to introduce our No Regrets software.” A video played behind Tripp. “Are you sending a text a photo to your ex? No Regrets pauses the process for thirty seconds so you can think twice before sending something you’ll be sorry about the next day. It’s activated by key words and addresses the user enters. Are there swear words in a message to your boss’s e-mail address? No Regrets pauses the whole thing so you can decide if you really want to send it. Before you shoot that picture into cyberspace, No Regrets will ask if you’re really sure you want the image floating around ten years from now.”
That was Lucy’s cue to start playing. She’d had a blast composing a fun, catchy song for the new product. “No regrets means no need for second chances…” The song was the first release off her new collection, Stronger Than You Know.
She finished the song and took a big bow. The crowd went wild and she could see all the cameras fixed on her. Her guitar player swapped her fiddle for the walking stick Joe had bought her and she made her way off stage, her limp still improving.
As she climbed down the stairs, Tripp finished the presentation. She was surrounded by fans waving pens and notepads for an autograph. A young girl with an eye patch and a jagged scar across her cheek sat on a man’s shoulder. She leaned toward Lucy. “I love you, Lucy!”
Lucy pushed through the crowd to the girl and took her pad of paper.
“This is the first time she’s left the house,” the man said. “But when she heard you were going to be here, she demanded we bring her. It’s all she’s talked about for days.”
Lucy’s throat was tight. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Allison.”
Lucy signed her notebook. “I am so glad you came out today.” She handed the paper back to the girl.
The girl looked at what she signed. She grinned and looked at Lucy. “You think I’m tough like you?”
She winked at the girl. “I know you are.”
Joe came up behind her and looped his hands around her waist. “You were amazing.”
A group of women rushed over to them, hooting and hollering. “Lucy Jordan! You totally should’ve come to the class reunion and sang. It would’ve been epic. Next time.” Brandi Parkman grinned at her like they’d been friends forever.
But having set aside old hurts, Lucy smiled back. “Next time for sure.”
Chance Carrington and Selena came over with Cathy Blake and Danny Patel in tow. “Looks like we’re having another reunion right now,” Lucy said, surprised to be surrounded by so many former classmates.
Joe shook Chance’s hand. “The man of the hour, our new hire in concept development. Think of how many head slaps you’re going to prevent with this.”
“It’s been a good year. And to think I only went to the reunion to help Danny hook up with Cathy.”
“And then you hooked up with me,” Selena said. She wiggled her left hand, showing off a big diamond ring. “Funny thing is, I went there looking for a rich husband, but in the end I’m not going to be a trophy wife, after all. I’m working on FindATrophyWife.com for McCall Me Inc.”
Cathy kissed Danny. “You’re not allowed to log on to that website.”
“Don’t worry, honey.” Danny wrapped her up in a hug. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ll never find someone as good as you.”
Lucy laughed. “That’s good enough to use that in my next song,” she joked.
“His poetry was much better back in high school,” Cathy said.
Lucy was surprised by how easy it was to hang out with people she’d resented a decade ago. Times had changed, but so had she. She chuckled to herself. Despite all that had happened, she liked the new Lucy.
Tripp and his girlfriend, Chelsea, joined their group. “We’re taking the yacht out when we wrap up here. You guys in?” he asked.
“Hell, yeah,” Lucy said. “I’m only with Joe because I know he can get me onto that yacht.”
Joe pretended to look hurt. “Hey.”
Tripp waved someone over. “Cathy, did you interview Martina Klein yet for your paper?”
“Yep, she was great,” Cathy said.
“She’s going by Martina now?” Lucy asked. Marti Klein was known as a wild flirt back in high school.
“She kind of reinvented herself after the whole topless-photo scandal,” Cathy said.
“She could’ve used No Regrets,” Lucy said.
“That’s why I interviewed her,” Cathy said. “She was generous enough to talk about how a stupid mistake, sending a boyfriend a nude photo, made a wreck of her life.”
“Wreck of her life? Are my ears ringing?” Martina laughed as she walked over with a handsome guy on her arm. “I can’t imagine how many people are going to avoid stupid mistakes thanks to that software, Tripp.”
“Come on,” Tripp said. “The limo is here to take us to the yacht.”
The group followed him outside and piled into the stretch Hummer.
When they got to the boat, they boarded while waiters poured everyone champagne.
Joe scooped Lucy into his arms. “This might be a nice place for a wedding reception.”
Her heart quickened. “That could be a profitable rental venture. Good thinking.”
“I’m talking about us. This is where it all started. Right here on the Second Chance. A second chance and a new start for both of us.” He pulled a ring out of his pocket and held it out to her.
She splayed her hand, then pulled it back. “I don’t have to provide the entertainment at the reception, do I?”
He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Maybe just one song. It wouldn’t be the same without your sweet voice.”
She gave him her hand. “I will. I do. I love you.” She looked up into his eyes. “You were Mr. Right all along.”
He slipped on the ring and kissed her as the Second Chance sailed toward the sunset.
***
You’ve just read Reunion Flirts! You might enjoy Lisa’s other Flirts! volumes: Flirts!, Beach Flirts!, Holiday Flirts!, Fairy Tale Flirts!, Wedding Flirts!, and More Flirts! Look for Fairy Tale Flirts 2! in early summer 2013. Her first romance novel in the Willowdale series, No Foolin’, is now available from Bell Bridge Books on most retail book sites. Man of the Month will be released in spring 2013.
If you enjoyed this book, please tell a friend, leave a review, or contact Lisa at ReadLisaScott@yahoo.com. Go to her website ReadLisaScott.com and sign up for her newsletter to be notified about her latest releases.