In fact, he could hear the music.
He closed his eyes, leaning back, and tapped out the harmony he heard in his head. Something simple. Something sweet. Pretty much how he felt since he'd lost Nicole.
Chapter Twenty-six
Nicole looked at the charts and figures that Valentine had laid out for her, and her only thought was that she thought she might keel over. That was a problem, because Grounds for Thought was especially busy that afternoon and there wasn't much room around them to pass out.
Valentine leaned forward, her face bright with excitement. "What do you think?"
"I think I'm going to throw up." She put her chin on her fist and stared hopelessly at all the information. "I'm not sure I can do this."
"I started my own business," Marley said. "If I can do it, you can, too."
"But you're a talented photographer," Nicole pointed out.
"And you're a talented designer. Seriously, Nicole"—Marley gestured to the sketchpad that had become Exhibit A—"why have you been hiding this? You draw all the time, but I didn't know you could draw like that. Why haven't you done this sooner?"
She shrugged, hugging herself. "I don't know, guys. What if I can't do it? What if I bomb? What if—"
"What if you never try, and you end up working in a little shop for the rest of your life?" Marley said bluntly.
"Not that there's anything wrong with working in a little shop," Valentine said quickly. "But you yourself said you wanted more. This is it."
"What if I'm not ready?" She picked up her teacup and then put it back down. Whoever decided chamomile had soothing qualities lied. "Just the thought of what it's going to take is making me hyperventilate."
Valentine pulled one of the sheets of paper lining the table surface forward. "That's why I broke out everything you need to do in stages. If you tick off each item on this list one at a time, in order, you'll be fine."
Nodding, she looked over the list. There was still time to run. She'd heard Guatemala was nice this time of year. "Maybe I should wait until I'm in a better place in life."
"Nicole, you can't wait, because ducks don't line up." Marley pursed her lips in thought. "Well, actually, they kind of do, which is where the expression came from, but you know what I'm saying."
She shook her head. "No, actually I don't."
Valentine slapped her hand on all the pages she'd compiled and leaned in like an enforcer, which should have been funny considering she looked like a pixie but only made her seem more menacing. "Just do it, Nicole."
Marley smirked. "Or Valentine will kick your butt."
"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll do it."
Valentine smiled happily. "Good."
The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Everyone in the café silenced for a moment as two teenagers rushed in.
Nicole frowned. "Rachel? Is school out for the day?"
"Barely. We ran all the way here to make it in time." The girl paused to breathe, still holding onto the hand of the boy next to her.
A cute boy. Nicole winked at Rachel.
The teenager blushed. "I know, right? Aaron's hot."
"You really do have a way with words," the boy said, looking at Rachel adoringly.
The girl gave him a brilliant smile before facing Nicole. "But that's not why I'm here. He emailed me! Griffin Chase!"
At Grif's name, she froze. Her heart did a series of crazy flops before beating really hard. But she wasn't surprised that he'd emailed the teenager. Griffin was a good man. He wouldn't just leave Rachel dangling, not when it obviously meant so much to her. "What did he say?" she managed.
"He told me to listen to the radio. He's doing an interview." Her eyes widened with disbelief and excitement. "He isn't going to...?"
"There's only one way to find out. When is his interview?"
"Now." Rachel bounced with impatience. "He told me to tell you to listen, too. He insisted, actually."
Hope caught in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. "Why would he want me to listen?"
Marley rolled her eyes. "Duh."
"We have to listen," Valentine declared. She looked around. "How do we listen?"
Nicole held her hands up. "The only time I listen to the radio is in my mom's car, when I'm home visiting."
"Eve," Marley exclaimed, jumping up and running to the counter. After a brief discussion with the owner, she yelled, "What station?" across the crowded room.
The room stilled again, which gave Rachel the perfect opportunity to yell the station back. "It's in Los Angeles," she added.
"No