Page 9 of Trouble Walked In

“Do you have any idea how much that would cost?” Lizzie asked.

Della shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I have enough.”

Lizzie thought of all the expenses associated with the last tour she’d helped arrange, then magnified it times Madison Square Garden and nearly choked on her coffee. “I seriously doubt you do. Even if you did, you wouldn’t have any left over. You’ll be broke.”

Della studied her half-eaten pancakes. “So I’ll do something else for money. You did.”

“Right.” Lizzie sighed and finished off her coffee. “On that note, time to get busy. You need a new job, and I need clean rooms. Jordanna, if you don’t mind, would you help me go over some receipts? I’m having a bit of a tangle with the budget. I could use another set of eyes on it.”

Jordanna took the last bite of her pancakes and nodded. “Sure thing. I just need to call Renic first.”

Della looked up, indignant. “Hey, why does she get to do paperwork while I have to scrub toilets?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks heat up at the mention of Jackson Renic. “Why do you need to callhim?”

Della looked at Jordanna. “Yeah, whyareyou calling him?”

Jordanna gave Della a long-suffering, Lord-my-load-is-heavy look. “He holds your contract. I have to let him know what’s going on. I have to tell him I failed, and that you’re backing out.”

Lizzie swore so loud the sound echoed off the rotunda wall, which caused both women to swivel their heads in her direction.

The last thing she wanted was Jackson Renic showing up on her doorstep to screw with her life. Again. The last time she saw him was the day Della had signed the contract thatended The Bellamy Sisters as a group and started Della on her solo career.

Della had pounced on them in the green room so full of excitement at her change of fortune that the news tumbled out of her in a tsunami of words.

Lizzie hadn’t seen it coming. At all. By the way her other two sisters reacted, they hadn’t either. The fight that followed had been epic. Horrible, hateful words were said. Fences were ripped apart and spread across the pasture.

So far, Lizzie had been the only one to mend the rift with Della. The other two still wouldn’t talk to her, though Mattie would let Della talkather, which was a start.

Up until that day, she’d thought of Renic as, well, a friend. He’d circled their orbit for years at Dream Works Records, one of the largest divisions of Omega Music Group, working as a talent scout for Nate Edwards. He’d offered advice to Della, introduced Mattie to the agent who now managed her songwriting projects, and hooked Piper up with a big-name guitarist who took her music to the next level.

Unlike so many others in the business, Renic saw Lizzie as someone with value, even though she couldn’t sing or play an instrument. She’d—they’d—trusted him.

Five years ago he'd started his own label. Two years after that he'd ripped her family apart.

Lizzie noticed Della and Jordanna staring at her with expectation. She bit back the next few words she wanted to say, took a deep breath, and tried to explain herself. “If you tell him that, he’ll follow you, Jordanna. He’ll come here to try to talk Della out of it in person. Inperson.”

“Won’t do him any good.” Della ran her finger through a pool of syrup on her plate and licked it. “Don’t care what he says. Not going back.”

Jordanna flashed an apologetic look at Lizzie. “I held himoff as long as I could, but you had to know he wouldn’t just sit back and let this happen. That’s not who he is. You know he cares about all of you.”

“I know he’ll stop at nothing to push his own self-interest.” Lizzie snatched up the empty plates from the table and walked them to the kitchen. “Let’s just get to work.”

After they loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, Lizzie led the way through the cottage garden, across the back lawn, and into the main house's kitchen.

It was still early, but Carrie Collins, resident chef at the Belhurst, was up to her elbows in dough, and the smell of baked brownies filled the air. She looked up as they entered and smiled. “Good morning, everybody. Want a brownie?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No thanks, we just ate.”

Della darted forward and snatched one off the cooling rack. “Speak for yourself.”

Jordanna eyed the brownies with a greedy glint in her eye, but bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m cutting carbs.”

Lizzie thought of all the pancakes the woman had just consumed and hid a smile. “The office is through here, Jordanna. Have a seat. I’ll just show Della where the cleaning supplies are and be right back.”

Della grabbed two more brownies. “If I’m doing all this cleaning I’m going to need fuel.”

"Come on, Dell Bell, it’s time to earn your keep,” Lizzie told her.

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