Page 5 of Whiskey Reveals

Chapter 4

The next morning,Melody stood in her grandma’s kitchen, coffee in hand, and tried to pry her eyes fully open. When she had dance practice and strength workouts before dawn back in the day, she’d been able to wake up easily. Or at least far easier than she was now since it took over an hour of coffee, a shower, and far too many yawns for her liking to actually feel like a human being.

She’d stayed late at her studio the night before after she finished her dinner. Clown nightmares aside, she’d gotten a lot of work done on the places the contractors had finished so she could make it her own. She’d ended up getting so far into it that she’d stayed later than she planned. By the time she’d gotten home, her grandma had already returned and had gone to bed. She’d left Melody a note, but Melody still felt like a jerk for not being there for her grandma. That was one of the main reasons she’d chosen Whiskey as her home, and she felt as if she were already failing at it.

Melody had spent the first years of her life never failing, always working hard to succeed. Nowadays, she never seemed to be able to work hard enough not to fail.

“I need more coffee for this,” she mumbled. She was thinking far too deeply on only one cup of caffeine. Her grandma would be down any minute to get breakfast for herself, so Melody went into the fridge and at least prepared what she could for her. Grandma Pearl liked her cup of yogurt and a half of grapefruit every morning, without fail. Sometimes, she’d add a spoonful of granola to the yogurt for kicks, but other than that, her grandma had been having this same breakfast since the eighties.

Melody held back a shudder. She’d had something similar for her first meal of the day years ago when her parents and coach had allowed to her have dairy. And then they’d moved her to the latest fad diet to keep her weight off while she danced. There was no way she’d be able to stomach yogurt this early in the morning, and perhaps any time of the day since the idea of that texture in her mouth made her want to hurl.

On that pleasant note, she finished setting up her grandma’s breakfast and headed into the living room with her second cup of coffee so she could work on her laptop. She had a few social media things to do every day to make sure her presence was out there, and while she scheduled some of her posts, she couldn’t do them all like that. Plus, she was waiting on a few emails from those who ran the community center, as well as the mayor’s office since the town’s executive branch had a hand in everything its residents did. Melody didn’t mind since the people she’d talked to had been really helpful in helping her set up her place. She just hoped they continued to like her once the doors were open and classes began. She perused a few emails, swallowed hard when she read one from the mayor that was actually good news—if a bit stressful—and ignored the rest. At least for now.

She chugged another gulp of her coffee since it was cool enough and opened her website from the back end. Today was the day she opened the official sign-ups for her dance classes. She planned to do a multitude of levels that either met weekly or daily in some cases, and she needed people to fill it. She’d been waiting on the okay from the mayor’s office to open it up, and now that she had that email in her inbox, she could officially open for business—at least online.

And…maybe she wouldn’t throw up.

Maybe.

She quickly hit the commands on her site so she could open the forms. She didn’t have an extensive knowledge of website design, but at least for the start, she could do the small bits. If and when her business actually took off, she would be able to hire someone to make it look a little more professional. But for now, her sleepless nights and extra website building classes had paid off, and she was able to at least put out some form of product. She honestly didn’t know how she had come from wanting to dance professionally with dreams of becoming a prima ballerina to opening her own studio and dealing with all the business and math that came with that. She swallowed hard once again, remembering that it had, in fact, been her fault she was down this path to begin with. And now she just had to deal with the consequences. Just like she’d been doing for the past few years. Or, at least now, doing better than she had been.

She hit save on the page and went to look at it live on her site. It was all there, the form open and ready for sign-ups. She would also have paper sign-ups at the community center, and at her studio where she planned to leave the door open while she worked on setting up. Hopefully, word of mouth would spread, and she would have more than just herself staring at a mirror with a ballet barre. Oh, God, she really, really hoped that.

She went back to her emails and sent the website link once again to the community center and to the mayor’s office, just in case. They already had the link, but now that she could say it was live with the form open, maybe they’d be able to help.

Just as she was about to close the browser, an incoming email made her pause. She frowned at the subject line that said You and nothing else. It was from an unfamiliar address, but instead of deleting it like she probably should have, she opened it instead. And froze.

I know what you did.

She blinked once, twice, then closed her browser and shut off her computer. She could hear her heartbeat echoing in her eardrums as she fought to control her breathing. It was nothing. Just spam that she should have deleted before she even opened the damn email. But something in the back of her mind told her that it wasn’t just a joke; wasn’t just a wrong email.

There was a reason she had been running all this time.

And while she wasn’t hiding any longer, she prayed that her past hadn’t once again found her.

And now she was just being silly over a weird spam email that had nothing to do with her.

“Melody, darling, thank you so much for my breakfast. Would you like me to make you something?”

Melody turned at the sound of her grandma’s voice and smiled. Her grandma was larger than life packaged in a barely five-foot, stunning woman. She didn’t appear her age—a number Melody wasn’t sure of. She knew her grandmother had given birth to her mother later in life, and she had to be old enough to at least know the Rat Pack—at least according to local and family legend—but other than that, she honestly did not know how old the other woman was. Not that it mattered in the end, because no matter what, her grandmother was the only family she had left, and that meant she would cherish whatever time they had together. Because even though Grandma Pearl looked as though she could take on armies with her curves and grin, there was a reason Melody had come to Whiskey, and it wasn’t just for her own problems and business.

“I’m okay with coffee for now, Grandma. Thank you.” Melody set her mug and her computer down on the coffee table and stood up so she could wrap her arms around her grandmother. They were about the same height, but Pearl seemed so much frailer than she had just three months ago. Maybe, though, that was all just in Melody’s head because she was worried and needed to feel needed—selfish as it was.

“You need something more than coffee,” Pearl said with a raised brow. A brow that had already been perfectly drawn in with precision, Melody knew that it had taken years of practice to get it just right.

“Oh, I know, and I’m going to get a piece of fruit and maybe some oatmeal or something. Or maybe an egg white since I don’t know if I can stomach oatmeal right now.” Maybe it was just nerves, but her stomach had been out of sorts for the past month or so. She really hoped that once her studio was open and she had people coming in and out the doors, her nerves would finally settle down. But knowing the blood that ran in her veins, that probably wouldn’t ever happen.

Pearl patted her cheek and smiled. “Okay, honey, as long as you are taking care of yourself as well as you are taking care of me. I am so happy that you’re here. It’s been a long time since I had someone else walking through these halls who wasn’t just here to help me clean them. Because, Melody, no matter how many times I say I can handle cleaning this monstrosity of a house by myself, I know that, in the end, I need a little help with the elbow grease. Why spend all my days scrubbing toilets by myself when I can ask for little help and enjoy the sun on my face later. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Of course, you do.” Her grandma had worked up until a few years ago. Yes, she had retired from her life as a showgirl many moons ago, but her grandma had always held down a job and still volunteered to help others. The family had money, and that was how Pearl had been able to afford this house to begin with, but Melody had learned from her grandmother that even if you had all the money in the world, you still had to learn what that money meant. Her parents, while loving in their own ways, hadn’t taught her that. Instead, they’d put all of their energy into her dancing, and when that career choice hadn’t panned out the way any of them wanted, things had never been the same. And then there wasn’t time to fix that.

She quickly pushed those thoughts from her mind, knowing that this wasn’t the time to go down that path. She had known when she opened her studio, or at least started the process of it, that those memories would come back in full force, but she wasn’t ready to deal with them. And that meant repressing everything. Her psychiatrist would have a field day when she finally made another appointment, but for now, she would focus on her grandmother, her new business, and this new town.

She helped her grandma around the house for a little bit and made sure Pearl was set up with her book and a nice cup of tea outside so she could spend the rest of her morning in nature like she had wanted, and then Melody quickly got ready for her day. Since she would be working inside a very dusty studio as the rest of her contract team got everything set up for opening day, she didn’t bother putting on anything too nice. Just old, form-fitting jeans, and a floral top that wasn’t her favorite but would get the job done.

By the time she made it to her studio, her nerves had settled down, but she was really ready to get elbow-deep in work so she could focus on that instead of her memories and the email from earlier that wouldn’t quite leave her mind.

Before she could open her door, though, a big man with even bigger muscles stood by her building, a broody expression on his face. She almost went for her keys so she could gouge out his eyes if he attacked her, but she stopped when she saw a familiar smirk on his lips for a bare instant.

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