Page 36 of Rough Ride with the Grumpy Cowboy
I serve myself a generous helping, and conversation flows back around the table with them mostly ignoring me. They know I won’t participate, so they don’t bother including me, which I don’t mind at all. I’m here for one reason and one reason only, and she is seated right next to me, smelling incredible and looking even better.
I don’t blatantly stare, but I do keep an eye on her. I’m keen enough to notice that instead of eating, she is playing with her food. Is it me? Am I affecting her as much as she’s affecting me, or is it another thing I need to worry about?
She seems to have lost even more weight, which is alarming since she was already skin and bones when she landed. Why is she not eating? The food is amazing—even Jace, who is not a fan of pasta, is scarfing it down.
I nudge her shoulder with mine, and she jumps slightly before turning to me. I point to her plate. “Eat,” I demand softly.
She shakes her head, so I narrow my eyes and clench my jaw. She sighs and picks up her fork and takes a bite.
Good girl.
I keep eating my own food but keep an eye on her, making sure she doesn’t stop.
“Daisy, you’ve been pouty all evening. What is going on with you?” Ella asks loud enough for the whole table to hear.
I turn my attention away from Ava to Daisy, who does look sadder than usual. She sighs and bows her head, refusing to say anything.
“Her music teacher is going on maternity leave, and they can’t find a replacement, so the classes have been suspended for now,” Jace explains on her behalf.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know how much you look forward to those classes,” Ella sympathizes.
Daisy has been taking music lessons at the rec center every Saturday since she was five. She loves music class, so if her teacher is leaving for a while, it explains why she looks so forlorn.
She pouts even further, looking like she’s about to start crying.
We all want to help her, but if the rec center couldn’t find a substitute teacher, then there isn’t much we can do.
Or is there?
I turn to Ava, wondering if she is an option, when Ella voices my exact thoughts.
“If only we knew someone who is exceptionally gifted in music.”
“If only indeed,” Jace hums in agreement, catching on.
Feeling eyes on her, Ava looks up from her plate. “Why are you all looking at me?”
“Because we are talking about you,” Ella replies.
She drops her fork, waving her hands defensively. “I can’t teach music. I attend vocal lessons, not the other way around.”
“But you know enough to teach—you’re a famous pop star, for God’s sake,” Ella argues.
“Performing is not the same as teaching.”
“It’s only three hours every Saturday, and the classes are really fun,” Jace adds.
Daisy unleashes her puppy eyes on her as well. “Please, Ava.”
“I’m sorry, darling. I’m not confident enough,” she apologizes.
I can understand why she’s hesitant, but we all know how good she is; we just need to make her see it as well.
I usually sit out of all conversations, but something compels me to participate in this one. “You used to teach the children’s choir. It’s the same thing.”
“Yes, a decade ago, when I was sixteen, bored, and in need of a job,” she argues.
“Well, you’re twenty-six now...”
