The Prince's Devious Proposal - Holly Rayner Page 0,56

made for them. “A new song. I didn’t recognize it.”

For the first time, it occurred to Naomi that her sister probably knew all the songs on her album by heart. She had seen a few copies of the CD around the house. It made her feel surprisingly touched to think of Sarah listening to it.

“I don’t know if it’s a song or not,” she said. “I’ve just been playing around.”

“Do we get to hear it?” Harry asked.

“You’ve been hearing it all day,” Naomi said, her snarky comment followed by a laugh.

“But we want a performance,” he said. “Don’t we, kids? We want to hear Aunt Naomi play her new song, right?”

“Yeah!” Ella cheered.

“Yes,” Jamie agreed.

So after dinner, Naomi brought her guitar into the living room and sat on the sofa with the family gathered around her.

She played through the song carefully. Already, she could feel how the melody was beginning to solidify. She was more sure than she had been this afternoon of what came next, of the order the chords belonged in.

There were no words yet, but that didn’t matter. The words always came later. That was the more deliberate part of the songwriting process, the part she actually had to sit down and put serious thought into. It was the music that came to her naturally.

Besides, she didn’t really need the words right now. She already knew what this song was about.

Petr.

She would have expected to write an angry song about him. She would have imagined that the chords would be hard and full of rage, that it would be a song she would need to play standing up to fill it with the proper energy.

She would not have expected to write a ballad about him.

But the truth was that, more than anything else, she just felt sad. Sad that she had been taken in, yes, but also sad at the prospect that none of what they had shared had been real. It had all been so beautiful. To find out now that it had been nothing more than a lie was heartbreaking.

But she couldn’t keep herself from including that hopeful note at the end of the song. She couldn’t help hoping that this story could still have a happy ending.

What Petr said to me might be true. He might have changed. He might have discovered real feelings for me.

If that was the case, it was possible that their experiences together had been real. Maybe they hadn’t been just part of his plan. Maybe he had been just as drawn in by their whirlwind romance as she had, and that was what had made him realize that he really loved her.

Maybe.

Someday, when she was ready, she would talk to him again. She would try to determine the truth.

But not yet. Right now, the most she could do was to write this song and hope that it helped her to process her complex feelings about him so that she would be ready to discuss the matter with him when the time came.

When she finished playing, the family applauded. “Are you going to perform that on stage?” Harry asked.

Naomi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You’re a musician. Musicians give shows, right?”

“I’m not a musician anymore,” she corrected.

“Of course you are.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, as if he was telling her that she was a human being. “You just wrote that song in a day.”

“I was just playing around,” she said. “It isn’t anything real.”

“Harry’s right,” Sarah said. “That was just as good as the stuff on your album.”

“It doesn’t even have words,” Naomi protested.

“Okay, so it’s not finished. Finish it. And then go play at an open mic night or something. There are plenty of them around here.”

“I can’t do that,” Naomi said, her face getting warm with embarrassment. “Those are for amateur performers.”

Sarah frowned. “There’s lots of talent,” she said. “One of my favorite bars has an open mic night, and some really skilled musicians play there.”

Naomi realized her sister had misunderstood her objection. “I’m not trying to say I’m too good for it,” she explained. “But it’s for people who haven’t had their shot. People who are still trying to be noticed for the first time. It wouldn’t be fair for me to take up their space. I’ve had my chance.”

Harry shook his head. “That’s not how it works,” he said. “Anyone who’s willing to put in the effort deserves a second chance. Just