Page 23 of Christmas Music
“Which is exactly why he wants us to stay on and consult,” she said simply. “It’s a good deal, Connor. He buys the ranch and gives us the money we need to pay off our debts and get your father the best care money can buy. We move into the guest wing of the house and get to stay here, and we get to keep working. Everyone’s happy. Everyone’s safe.” She narrowed her eyes, though, and tipped her head. “Except you.”
Wait, what? I mean sure, I wasn’t exactly happy that she was selling the place without talking to me, or that Dev—my best friend!—had arranged all of this without telling me. But if this was the solution we had, this was the solution we had.
Why wouldn’t I be happy?
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
She smirked. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Think I haven’t seen you mooning around with your heart in pieces. Think I didn’t notice the girl who was suddenly showing up at all times of day, looking for you? What’s going on between you and Olivia Johns, Connor?”
Oh. Right. “Nothing,” I said, crossing my arms. “We thought we were going to work together on a song, but we changed our minds.”
Another smirk from my mom. “You changed your minds. She was here just the other day, looking for you. Didn’t look like she’d changed her mind to me.”
I opened my mouth, but then closed it again. When had Olivia been here looking for me? When had she talked to my mom? And what had my mom told her?
Most importantly, why did the thought of Olivia Johns being here, searching for me when I didn’t know she was coming, make me suddenly feel as though the world had been lifted off my shoulders?
“What do you mean she was here?” My voice was hoarse, nearly desperate, and I hated that.
But a part of me—a part that said I knew exactly what she was talking about—was crowing in triumph. Olivia had come here for me. Uninvited.
And yes, sure, I’d seen her that morning when my mom met with the assessor and she’d said something about working together, but I’d been too upset in that moment to really understand what she was saying. But hearing that she’d been here some other time, and had talked to my mom...
I didn’t know why, but it changed things.
It made me realize that the buzzing I’d been feeling under my skin for the last week, the keen awareness of her presence in town and the absolute need to try to see her—which I’d been fighting—was a whole lot more than just nerves over the contest.
I’d been in love with Olivia when we were in high school. We hadn’t talked and we’d never even been in the same place at the same time, but I’d known in my heart that she was the only one for me.
What if that had never truly gone away?
What if she’d been standing right in front of me all week, offering to help, and I’d been too stupid and stubborn and bull-headed to see it?
My mother, bless her, watched the realization rushing across my face and nodded once. “Go find her. Tell her how you feel. And then win that contest and bring home your record contract.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed my guitar and the paper I’d been using to record the song, and rushed out of the house, my thoughts on two things: Getting to Olivia’s house and finding her, and then getting to the bar and winning that contest.
CHAPTER15
Olivia
Ipeered through the curtain on the stage, looking out into the audience, and frowned. Everyone was already here—or at least probably. I could see the execs from Atomic in the back, their tablets and notebooks out and their eyes scanning the crowd. those in the crowd were the typical townies, all of them here for one person or another. The musicians were all backstage, getting ready, and along the back wall, the bartenders were doing some brisk business—one of the main reasons, I knew, the owner agreed to have this event every year. The place was decked out in even more Christmas finery for the event, the ceiling practically covered in garland and the edges of the stage lined in lights.
The entire place was festive enough to make Santa Clause himself jealous. Just like every year I’d been here.
But tonight there was one very big difference: Parker was here working, and I was watching from backstage.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, still looking out at the audience. “Your boss sent you here to scout the talent and you made me get here early to do that, and yet we’re doing it from... backstage?”
Parker shrugged. “Best place to get access to the artists after they come off the stage.”
“And yet the worst seat in the house when it comes to actually hearing the music,” I pointed out. “How are you going to know whether they’re even good or not?”
She jabbed me in the ribs and blew a bubble with her gum, snapping it loudly in my face. “I can tell just by watching. That, young grasshopper, is why they pay me the big bucks.”
I poked her right back. “I’m the same age you are, Parker.”
She grinned. “I’m three months older than you, and a whole lot can happen in three months, my child. Now tell me what’s going on out there. Is anyone interesting in the audience?”
