Page 25 of Mic Drop

“So, I don’t have a car. Do you feel comfortable driving, or do you want me to get a car service?”

“Hmmm. Maybe I should rethink this situation. You don’t have a car, your work isn’t located here, and you have a crazy ex out to get you. What’s in it for me?”

I wiggle my eyebrows. “Me.”

Her shoulders lower. “Guess that’ll have to do.” She tosses me the keys. “You can drive.”

I help her into the car, then lean into her space. “Kiss for the road?”

“What am I going to do with you?” Her lips cover mine.

After we break apart, my hand covers the top of the window. “I messed up. I should’ve copped a feel.”

Her arms cross over her chest. “Get in, Rock Star.”

Chuckling, I round the car to the driver’s side. At least I was able to get her to smile. What a contrast in hours.

We make the trip to Secluded Rest listening to the radio. When the Ukrainian anthem for children Cole Manchester wrote comes on, I sing along.

“I love hearing you sing.”

“Come on tour with me. You’ll hear me sing all the time.”

She reaches over and shuts off the radio. “You do have a good voice. I’m always blown away by it.”

So many people throughout the years have complimented my instrument, but her soft praise means more than all of them combined. “Appreciate it, Sweetheart.”

“Will you give me a private concert?”

She knows I don’t do this. Mom’s hurtful words about my five-year-old voice are seared into my soul, so I’m not about to start. Even for Jenna. “How about I serenade you at our next concert? Make all the ladies jealous.”

“Some of the men, too.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?” I appreciate her letting me off the hook. Despite what some people say, I’ve never felt comfortable being the sole point of attention. Give me a band as back up, and I’m golden. I simply don’t doa capella. The few bars to the television show to prove my identity don’t count.

At the gate, I give them my name and we’re allowed to enter. Turning, an excellent idea pops into my head. “Hey, why don’t you and your mother move in here? The paperwork is almost ready for me to sign, and the owners don’t care if I’m here. There’s a security gate. It might make you feel safer.”

“Ma loves her home. I tried to get her to move in with me—Kara, too—but she’s stubborn. She’s not moving anywhere.”

I tap the steering wheel. “Then how about you? You’re dealing with a crazy graffiti artist. Is everyone leaving your home alone?”

Big gray eyes turn toward me. “I went right to Ma’s and we’ve been so busy with doctor appointments, I haven’t been to my house.”

I move my hand on top of hers. “Don’t worry. I stopped by your house this morning before going to your mother’s. Nothing looked awry.”

She blows out air through her mouth. “Thanks.”

The situation with her mother is weighing so heavy on her that she hasn’t even checked on her house. I extend my arm onto her headrest. “I’ll always have your back.”

We pull into the driveway and enter the house. Although there’s no food, the rest of the house is move-in ready. I turn on the tap. “Water?”

“Such a big spender.”

I’ll take that as a “yes.” We sit at the kitchen island, and I openthe laptop, clicking on the link Luke sent me. “Remember, I’m right here next to you.”

She swallows. “If I forgot to say it before, thanks for arranging this. I don’t even want to know what Luke had to do to get this meeting.”

Around the rim of the glass, I smile. “You probably don’t. I’ll give him a bonus in his next paycheck.” Seems like I’m giving a lot of them away lately. All for good reasons.

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