She exhaled and nodded. “I suppose it does. And I don’t care for that feeling.”

“Look, Lynette isn’t going to say anything. She’s a good friend. I’ve known her for years. It was just a conversation. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Margo nodded. “I overreacted. Again, I’m sorry.” She offered him a quick smile. “Forgive me?”

He laughed softly. “They say creative types can be a little temperamental. You’re just becoming the author you were meant to be.”

She snorted. “I hope that’s not true. Just be patient with me. This is all so new and I feel like at any moment someone is going to ask me what I think I’m doing. That I’m going to be found out. Silly, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. It’s called imposter syndrome. The belief that you’ll be discovered as a phony when you attempt something new. It’s perfectly natural.”

“Good to know.” She patted his arm. “I really am sorry. And I do genuinely love your enthusiasm.”

“I’ll do my best to rein it in a bit, all right?”

“No,” she said. “Don’t. I’m the one who needs to get over my insecurities. And this imposter syndrome business.” She stared through the windshield, not really seeing the passing scenery. “Do you think we’re actually going to finish?”

He let out a soft grunt. “Margo Bloom, have you ever quit anything?”

“No.”

“Well, neither have I. If there were ever two people destined to write a book, it’s us.”

She smiled. And hoped with all her being that he was right.

Jules loved playing music with her son. It wasn’t something she’d had a chance to do in a long time and now that they were doing it again, it made her heart so happy. They played one of her oldest songs, Coming Home, to warm up and have a little fun.

Using the third floor as their studio, she sat on the sofa, while he sat in the chair at the end, both of them strumming along while she sang, although he mouthed the words with her. She’d been singing him this song since he’d been a baby in the cradle, so it was no wonder he knew the words as well as she did.

As they finished up the final notes, Cash grinned. “That sounded good. You’ve gotten better. I mean, you were amazing before, but you make it look so effortless.”

She smiled. “I’ve played that song more times than I can count.”

“I bet.” Sunlight filtered through the sheers covering the sliding doors, giving him a golden glow. “So what’s the new one you’ve been working on?”

She hesitated, sitting back slightly. “It’s really different than the rest of my stuff. I’ve been kind of inspired by everything going on with your Aunt Claire, but I don’t know what my audience is going to think.”

“They love everything you do.”

She nodded. “Mostly. But this is a lot more rock-n-roll. A lot more in your face.”

“Yeah?” His eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Let me hear it.”

She took a breath, surprised that she felt a little nervous about playing this new song in front of her own son. But that’s how different it was. “It’s not really polished yet.”

He put his guitar aside. “No worries if it’s still a work in progress. Everything starts somewhere, right?”

“Right. Needs refining. You know.” And that was true, but it was so not the kind of song she was known for. She’d even thought about selling the song. Wouldn’t be the first time. She’d made good money that way. A lot of it. But there was something about this song she loved so much she didn’t want to let it go. It felt like it might be a brand-new path for her. The kind of thing that would get her new ears.

Or it might be a colossal failure.

“I do know.” Cash sat back. “So let me hear what you’ve got. I won’t judge.”

He would, though. It would be impossible to hear the song and not think something about it.

All the same, she adjusted her fingers on the guitar strings and began to play the catchy, rollicking intro she’d come up with. Then she sang the first verse. “He shoulda been home already but it’s half past ten. Dixie knows in her gut that he’s done it again. He’s down at that bar, taking things too far, making some other woman feel like a star.”

Jules went into the chorus next. “Dixie’s got her boots on, and she’s headed to town. By the way she’s walking, trouble’s about to go down. Yeah, trouble’s ’bout to go down.”