Page 47 of Shattered Chords

I shifted my gaze to Dante, who stood next to her. There was a hint of a smile on his lips, but he knew to keep it contained. Regardless, everything in his relaxed posture told me he was expecting this little plan of his to work.

Over my dead body, I wanted to scream at first, but obviously, my common sense prevailed and I didn’t. I didn’t generally have a flair for the dramatic.

Harper sat across from me, to Dante’s left, hands resting on the table on either side of his paper plate, heaped with loads of food. His wheat-colored mop of hair moved in the breeze and fell into his eyes. He arched his brows to express his surprise.

“This isn’t fair.” I lowered my voice to hide my irritation. Still, I felt attacked. All three stared at me as if I’d just committed a crime, and I was burning with rage because I couldn’t believe my own daughter had the nerve to ask me something like this in front of all our friends.

Dante volunteered to be my new guitar teacher, Mom.

“You know what’s not fair?” Ally pouted. “To prevent me from having one of the most successful guitar players on the planet as a private tutor.” The sarcasm in her tone was sharp and evident. She folded her arms on her chest to only further demonstrate how determined she was to ensure this happened. She’d make a scene if necessary.

Well, that was definitely Greg’s gene pool. Not mine.

“A word?” I gave Dante a menacing look and rose from my chair.

He nodded. “Sure.”

Harper was unusually quiet and his betrayal stung.

Badly.

The lunch break was at its peak. People were tired and hungry after being in the sun since early morning and barely paid attention to us as we quickly walked past the tables.

Once the chattering crowd was out of earshot, I halted and said, “I don’t appreciate that you’re using my daughter.”

We stood beneath a canopy of thick, leafy branches, but the shade did little to protect us from the heat.

“I’m not going to lie to you.” Dante tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking on mine. “You are partially the reason why I’d like to work with Ally, but I also want to help her because she’s got potential.”

“That’s not the best strategy to get back into my good graces—confessing that you’re trying to use my kid.”

“I assure you that I’m not.”

“You’re contradicting yourself.”

“Yeah, that happens a lot lately,” he said in a self-deprecating manner.

It was odd. I didn’t think rock stars had it in them to be able to see—and announce—their own shortcomings, but he’d done it before, at the guitar shop where we met. He’d talked about his vices openly, which meant he wasn’t just laying it on thick about Ally’s skills. He saw what I saw.

“Look, I can take rejection.” He hitched a shoulder. It was a nonchalant shrug. “Earlier, you made yourself clear. I’m not going to ask you out anymore, but if you change your mind, just tell me whenever I’m at your place working with Ally.” And there it was. He smiled smugly, knowing all too well that my kid would hate me forever if I forbade the lessons.

“I don’t believe you.” I huffed a frustrated laugh, feeling utterly trapped.

Dante responded with another smile. “If you don’t believe me, believe this—I’m offering to tutor your daughter because she has a shot at a future as a musician. She’s skilled. She’s talented. She has great stage presence. And she’s disciplined, at least from what I can tell. I have the power to help her.” He paused for a second and I let his words sink in. “You know I can. Don’t deprive her of a chance that millions of other kids are dreaming about this very second.”

“You’re an asshole.”

His smile grew bigger...and sexier. “That, I am.”

“Entitled asshole.”

“That too.”

“Grrr,” I growled. Literally. Then I balled my hands into fists and stomped like a little girl, the grass beneath me silencing the angry thud of my shoe against the ground.

To that, Dante laughed—a deep, low rumble rattling his firm chest, which caused something in me to snap.

I was agreeing to lessons. I already knew it before I opened my mouth to accept defeat.

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