Page 79 of Shattered Chords

“Don’t worry!” Malik shouted, grinning at me. “I have a backup plan if he burns the meat.” The golden cross on his wet chest proudly glimmered in the afternoon light.

“We’ll just order pizza,” Ally added, reaching for Snowflake, who was peering into the water from the edge of the pool, still deciding if he wanted to get in. She rubbed his head gently and, in turn, he licked her cheek.

I couldn’t remember when I’d seen my daughter so unguarded...completely free of the walls she’d been putting up lately.

She’d spent over an hour with Dante in his music room, beaming at him as he tried on her present—a custom-made guitar strap. Then they played a few songs together while I ventured into the kitchen to see if Yanneth needed help. She didn’t. Not at that moment, anyway, so I gave myself a tour of the house, or at least, the accessible parts. I didn’t go upstairs, but every space with an open door on the ground floor seemed like fair game, considering that most of the rooms were lacking furniture.

Once Ally had had enough, she moved to the pool area, Malik joining her shortly after. His formal attire had been switched to a simple tank and baseball shorts.

I imagined someone like Dante Martinez would throw a different kind of birthday party—with a stripper pole and a handful of Playboy models. A barbeque that included only two guests—me and Ally—seemed so at odds with his rock star status.

“There she is!” He waved at me from behind the grill, then swept his hand—the one holding the metal tongs used to flip the meat—through the air to include everyone present in his next statement. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“We are,” I called, my voice becoming thin in the warm wind.

That made him happy. “Good.” Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could see that his smile grew wider.

Snowflake changed his trajectory and waddled over to me to inspect my ankles. I’d left my sandals in the pool house along with my dress and was barefoot now, the stone platform pleasantly cool against my feet, which, for some reason, intrigued the puppy. He was a curious creature, who licked the most unexpected things, barked whenever he pleased, and demanded to be cuddled.

The sun was slowly sliding down across the sky, still bright and cruel, but there was a huge umbrella set up in the yard, adjustable reclining chaises hiding beneath its massive shade.

I picked up Snowflake and made my way toward the shallow end of the pool to wet my feet, my gaze avoiding Dante at all costs as he continued to follow Yanneth’s instructions. A couple of minutes later, she retreated into the house.

“She shouldn’t have left him alone with the grill,” Malik joked lightheartedly. “We’ve had enough wildfires this season.”

Snowflake fussed in my arms and I had to step out of the water to let him back down. As soon as his tiny paws hit the ground, he took off in the direction of the grill. The thick, savory smell of spices and premium beef hung in the air, reminding me once again that I’d forfeited my meal earlier in favor of picking the right dress.

Funny that I wasn’t even wearing it anymore.

“So is this how a semi-retired rockstar usually spends his days? Cooking?” I asked Dante as I slowly approached him, knowing all too well that dodging the man who’d gone above and beyond to make me and my daughter feel comfortable here was only a short-term solution to what was starting to look like long-term.

The unspoken something between us.

The unspoken something that dangled in the hot air, invisible yet solid.

Snowflake was biting the bottom of Dante’s jeans with palpable ferocity. I blamed it on the rich smell of food. Poor puppy didn’t have much patience.

“When you have nothing else to do pretty much every day of the week.” He nodded, smiling softly.

Behind me, the sounds of splashing water turned into laughter. Ally and Malik were getting along surprisingly well. She’d quickly explained to me who he was when we were putting on our swimsuits, and I realized I’d seen billboards with the name of his gym before.

Malik Dixon was averyfamous football player from Jamaica.

Currently, a successful fitness entrepreneur.

Dante kept interesting company, I thought to myself as I glanced back at my daughter owning the airfield-sized pool. It occurred to me how easily she made friends with people way out of her league and her age bracket. Yet she and I were hardly on speaking terms these days.

“Ally said the band has another show booked for November,” Dante drawled, poking the piece of meat closest to the edge of the grill.

I turned my head to look at him. “Yes. Jesse Catchum made the arrangements.”

“That’s great. The more live shows she plays, the more confident she’ll be in front of a larger crowd when the time comes.”

“Did she tell you Jesse finally sent the guys the mastered version of the song they recorded while they were in his studio?”

“Yes, she mentioned it. Did you listen to it?”

“I did.” A memory pulled at the edge of my mind. “I still can’t wrap my head around it. They all sound so different.”

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