55

Back at the villa, Emily and Rob stood on the balcony, each with a cocktail. It was the calmest Emily had felt in days—in months, actually.

“I can’t believe this is real,” she said to him.

He looked at her. “Me neither,” he answered. Then he glanced back at the clock in the living room. “We’ve gotta get ready,” he said. “I’m gonna jump in the shower.”

Emily waited for the butterflies in her stomach. But they weren’t there. She was excited, but she wasn’t nervous. “Me too,” she said, and then clarified. “My own shower.”

Rob laughed. “I figured.”


Once Emily was dressed, she went back into her bathroom and applied the kind of stage makeup she used to wear. Thick eyeliner, three coats of mascara, foundation under powder under blush. The application came back to her just like the piano had. She dried her hair and looked at herself in the mirror. Instead of the thick braided crown she used to wear, she made four small braids, two at each temple, that she pulled back, leaving the rest of her hair loose and wavy.

“Want to meet me at the venue?” Rob called from the living room. “I should head over now.”

Emily walked out of the bathroom and shut off the light. “I’m ready,” she said, as she arrived in the living room.

“Are you ever,” Rob said, looking her up and down. “You look great.”

She smiled. “You too,” she told him. He had on jeans and a soft white V-neck T-shirt with his own pair of boots. Even the way he inhabited his clothes exuded confidence.

“Let’s go check out your keyboard. I gave Diana the backline specs, and I’m sure she found something perfect.”

“Let’s do it,” she said, wondering what Rob had specified.

The butterflies still weren’t there. Just excitement that pulsed with every beat of her heart.