Page 81 of A Way Out
“But, hey, Cash, can you give me the name of that champagne you bought after we recorded our EP? I’d like to pick up a bottle. I can at least have a toast with the family.”
“Sure, man.” Cash pulled out his phone. “I’ll text you a couple of excellent options that aren’t too expensive.”
He wasn’t even offended at the implication that he was still watching his pennies. “Appreciate it.”
The rep for the label returned from wherever she’d been for the last five minutes, informed them that she had their info on file and that she looked forward to hearing back once their lawyer had reviewed the contract.
Silver Lining was a fucking huge label, so Oz wasn’t too worried that they were about to get screwed, but he did appreciate Lacey’s forethought to have a professional review before they signed their lives away.
The band headed down the elevator mostly in silence. No doubt everyone else was in shock too.
The minute they exited the glass-faced skyscraper, Travis and Parker both let out whoops. Passersby tossed them dirty looks.
Lacey shrieked and threw herself into Parker’s arm. He twirled her in a circle and gave her a smacking kiss before grabbing Travis’s arm and pulling him close.
“Group hug!” Parker announced.
They all tumbled into a pile right there on the street, just outside the main entrance of the biggest record label in the country. It probably wasn’t the first time this’d happened.
As they pulled apart, Parker grasped Oz’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “Go home, check on the family. Take a shower and a power nap. We’ll all be over this evening. We need to celebrate!”
“Okay, sounds good,” he said listlessly. They probably thought it was because he was tired, and yeah, he was, but that wasn’t why he was so down.
He wanted Maria to be here, celebrating with them. He wanted Maria in his arms.
And he couldn’t have her.
Even now, with his debt cleared and the path ahead pretty damn straightforward—make really excellent music and they’d be just fine—he couldn’t see them together. Even if Demigoddess Revival became millionaires, he’d never be on the same level with Maria.
Her mother had made that point abundantly clear.
The kids were at school, so the house was quiet when he arrived. His mom’s car wasn’t here; she was probably out running errands.
But Maria’s Cadillac SUV was.
Weird. They’d left it at the airport when they went out to Missouri, and after Oz and the rest of the band had flown home on Tuesday, without Maria, he hadn’t mentioned her vehicle still parked there. They didn’t have the keys anyway.
Maybe she’d arranged with Holly to have it brought over here instead of continuing to pay for airport parking.
Whatever. Not his problem.
Which was too bad, but he was already sick of dwelling. He’d spent that entire drive from Seattle to LA wallowing in his misery. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d considered turning around so he could talk to her one last time. Only today’s meeting deadline had kept him going.
And it had been worth it, hadn’t it?
He headed up the porch steps, pressed the code to get into the house, but when he stepped inside, the alarm’s familiar beep, beep, beep didn’t go off.
Had his mom forgotten to set the alarm when she left? It wasn’t a big deal to him—if a burglar had gotten this far, that alarm probably wasn’t going to stop them—but Holly and Sam would feel otherwise. He needed to remind his mother to always set the alarm when she left the house.
“Congratulations.”
The voice whispered across his senses. He was so far in his own head that he actually thought he was imagining it for a moment.
But there was Maria, standing in the foyer, her smooth, dark hair tumbling around her shoulders; she wore a flouncy little sundress, a nervous smile on her lips, and held a glass of champagne in each hand.
Guess he didn’t need the bottle he was holding.
Wait. “What are you doing here?”
