Page 33 of Movers and Shakers

“You have a sister?”

“Yes. And a brother.”

“What are they like?”

“They’re completely different. My brother is a high-up businessman and my sister is working her way up the ladder in the banking world.”

“Your dad works in the big building, right?”

“He does. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“It’s a good revenge story.”

“Not as good as this song you’re writing.”

I doubted it. My life had grown boring once everyone knew everything about it—at least Lila’s side of it anyway. But Barry’s life, a man who came from a harsh family and made something all on his own, sounded much more like a story I wanted to tell.

He didn’t seem interested in opening up about that side of him, though. And I didn’t have extra time to push him in the ways I wanted to. I needed to get this album done.

Desperately.

“You know, I’ve been writing other things. Softer things, I mean. Want to hear something else?”

He smiled. “I’d love nothing more.”

Barry

Never in my life did I ever imagine I would be hearing Lila Wilde sing a new song for me and me alone. This had to be a dream, one I would wake up from and wish was real.

The words were soft and melodic. But I could hear how she would speed it up and make it another hit. I could see her twirling around the stage, singing it to . . . anyone but Blaze.

Maybe me.

At least in my dreams.

One day, it was going to be changed. All mentions of me would be scrubbed and I would be replaced by the man she stood beside.

She stopped strumming and her hazel eyes looked up at me. She didn’t look like a pop star when she did. With her hunched shoulders and shaky smile, she looked scared.

“It’s amazing,” I told her.

“Really? You’re not just saying that because you think you have to?”

“I truly think it is. I really liked the line where you ask me not to break your heart.”

“Well, I had to have something about Blaze in there.”

I laughed, but the reminder of him made me ask for one thing. “Can you record the original version and send it to me?”

She smiled. “I can make that happen.”

Her phone rang and I saw the nameMiaon the screen.

“You need to go, don’t you?”

“Yes. My agent is calling. I should probably be at the studio too. I have a few ideas I could record. And this song, of course.”

She handed me the guitar and walked toward the door. My heart lurched, and I knew she couldn’t leave without me saying one other thing.

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