Page 38 of On the Beat

Isla stands up from her chair, dropping her phone. “What do you mean?”

“She has laryngitis,” says the staffer, looking at Isla like he’s worried she’s going to shoot the messenger.

Literally.

Well, she has good enough aim for that, when I remember our pillow fight, but I can’t think about that right now.

“But… it’s a duet,” Isla says, the tension in her face and clenched fists belying the softness in her tone.

“Of course I know it’s a duet.” I stop pacing and throw myself into a chair. My legs will not support me or the absolute musical catastrophe that may soon follow.

In all my time as a performer, I’ve never had anything this horrible happen. Well, there was that time a fan threw up onstage during a meet-and-greet, but that could at least be solved by cleaning up. This is not a problem with a clear solution.

Who’s going to sing the other part?

“I was just saying–” Her voice grates on my ears. Mostly because it’s not offering any solutions and in self-defence. Other than that, her voice is actually kind of nice to listen to.

“Isla, I swear to God, if you say one more thing that isn’t going to help–”

Wait.

Her voice.

My head snaps up to look at her. “Isla.Youknow the song. Right?”

“Oh,no.” Her eyes widen, and she stands up, her chair knocking against the wall behind her like I’m wielding a knife instead of asking her for a favour. “Youcannotbe serious.”

“I assure you, I am extremely serious.” There is more riding on this than my career. I may have come here for the purpose of getting away from my own life, but I’m not leaving until I find out the real reason I can’t help but stay. “You can sing. I’ve heard it.”

She may not be Adele, but she’ll do.

“I cannot sing on stage with you.”

“Do you have stage fright?”

“I don’t want to find out.” She wipes her hands on her leggings. “You’ll just have to sing by yourself.”

Having stopped my pacing, I cross the small room to stand next to her. “You can do it. And besides, no one’s coming to the concert to see you sing.”

“Which is exactly why I shouldn’t do it, Mr. Full-Of-Himself.”

“I’m just stating the truth. Please, Isla, I’m due on stage in half an hour. I need you to do this for me.”

“Well, I’ll do it on one condition.” She lifts her chin up, her gaze testing my resolve.

“Within reason.”

“Asking me to sing on stage in front of thousands of people is not within reason, so request denied.”

I remain silent, letting her tell me her condition.

“Tell me what really happened between you and River.”

If I trust her enough to ask her to help me, I guess I have to trust her enough to believe that she won’t share all my secrets to the press. I have to believe that she’s here, as she said, for her family. And not for me.

“Fine. Let’s shake on it, and run through the song one time before we have to go.”

I extend my hand. She looks at it like I’m holding a grenade. Then, with the greatest reluctance, she slips her hand under mine, her fingers brushing my palm. Something disturbingly like electricity shoots through me. I give her hand one shake before dropping it and picking up my guitar. “Let’s rehearse.”

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