Page 49 of I Would Die for You

“And he was telling me that if this petition is passed, you stand to get a grant from the city council…”

Where is she? Where is she?Her voice is bouncing off the walls, but I can’t see her.

“And in order to get the petition passed, you need to prove that the seals need protecting.”

“The sealsdoneed protecting,” I counter, resisting the temptation to jump down onto the floor and blindly run around the auditorium to hunt down the faceless voice. “There are, on average, three public assaults on them every week. It is causing them great distress and impacting how they interact with human beings and each other.”

“But creating a petition gives you more impetus in the community and a better chance of proving the point.”

“What exactly is your agenda here?” I ask, even though I’m terrified of the answer.

“I want to be sure, before I sign this petition, that the seals’ best interests are being preserved and that this isn’t all part of a shameless money-grabbing exercise by someone who could use a little windfall.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, but I can’t tell if it’s from me or the audience.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” I say, my voice wavering ever so slightly. “But any money we receive will go directly toward ensuring the welfare of the colony.”

“Sonottoward the extravagant holiday you’ve booked to Barbados later this year…?”

My knuckles turn white as I picture the marine biology bachelor’s degree that proudly hangs in my office. I didn’t go back to school for four years and dedicate my life to the preservation of sea life to have it be suggested that I have an ulterior motive.

“What I do in my private life has nothing to do with the conservation effort, and it certainly hasnothingto do with you.”

“I just want to make sure that everything’s out in the open,” she says cryptically, as I lock my knees in an attempt to stop my legs from buckling.

“I have nothing to hide,” I say, though the tremor in my voice and the viselike grip around my chest, squeezing my rib cage, would suggest otherwise.

23

LONDON, 1986

“OK, go from the top of the chorus one more time,” says Ben’s producer friend Vaughan through Nicole’s headphones.

Ben strums his guitar on the high stool beside her, counting her in.

“There are things I could never teach you, no matter how hard I try,

Because only you can decide how high you fly,

I can set you on your way and catch you if you fall,

But only you will know…”

“That’s great!”says Vaughan. “But can we just try something? Will you humor me for three more minutes?”

Nicole nods, happy to give him all the time in the world because there’s no place she’d rather be than here in this converted spice mill, making music.With you, she says to herself, looking at Ben.

She immediately gives herself a shake, refusing to follow the millions of other girls down that well-traveled road. She’s not oneofthem. She’s not Cassie, who fantasizes about being with someone she barely knows, naive to the fact that the life she covets is barely a life lived.

Because being around Ben is exhausting. Just last week, he’d been desperate to see the newPolice Academyfilm and, despite Nicole’s protestations, he’d insisted that she go with him.

“It’ll be fine,” he’d said, when she’d told him it was too risky. “It’s the midnight showing, so there’ll be no one around.”

“It’s not other people I’m worried about,” she’d said. “It’s the paps. They seem to be able to sniff you out a mile away.”

Ben had smiled that lopsided smile of his, which despite herself had made Nicole’s insides flutter. “If they want to run a picture of us, put two and two together and come up with five, that’s fine by me.”

“Oh, well as long as it’s OK byyou,” said Nicole.

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