ever growing list of things he never wanted to do again. Along with playing desert music festivals, appearing on stage with Alex without a note from Alex’s doctor, and drinking the crap coffee that even five-star hotels served.
And anyway, he had nothing new to say to anyone, nothing that he hadn’t said a million times already. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old millionaire who plays in a band. Why do people want my opinion on climate change? Or where is the music industry going? What is the secret to writing hit songs?
Hell if I know.
He didn’t even know where he was going to be six months from now. What hotel? What city? What country? Or would he be twiddling his thumbs in his rented condo while Alex struggled to dry out again?
The only thing he really knew was where he wanted to be in six months. Scratch that—where he wanted to be right now. He wanted to be in a particular small town on the Chesapeake Bay. In a particular bed above a charming coffee shop. In the arms of a particular woman.
Mai with an I.
He picked up the phone. It was ten o’clock on the east coast. Her shop was closed by now. He called and listened as the call rolled over to voice mail. He ended the call without leaving a message. He’d made his interest clear to her, but he wasn’t going to be a nag.
Two minutes later, his phone rang.
“Hi there,” the voice on the other end said. Her voice, that was as lovely to his ears as any song could be.
“Hey. What are you up to?” He pictured her puttering around her apartment, mug of coffee in hand.
“I’m on the world’s most boring date.”
He sat bolt upright, nearly choking on air. She was dating? Oh no no no. Suddenly, everything was crystal clear.
“Where are you?”
“I’m hiding in the ladies’ room, so I could return your call. How did the show go?”
“It could have been worse. But not by much. Don’t look it up online.”
“It’s good to hear your voice.”
“My voice is shot from the show.”
“Still.”
“How long have you been dating this guy?”
“This is the first date. And the last.” She sighed. “Ian, you can’t keep asking me to wait. To give us a chance. I want a life you can’t give me.”
From a small stage erected in the parking lot at Secret Beach, Mai looked out over the crowd assembled for the official celebration of St. Caroline’s 300th anniversary. Beyond the crowd, out on the bay, a barge filled with fireworks waited. Despite the evening’s heat, the metal microphone felt cool in her hands. She watched as the high school band director settled down his students. After a minute, he turned and gave her a nod. She took a long breath and then lifted the microphone.
“O say can you see …”
Normally, she could sing the national anthem without even thinking about it. In any case, she could forget half the lyrics, fall off the stage, and still get a rousing round of applause from everyone in St. Caroline.
That might actually happen tonight—because a tall figure had just separated from the back of the crowd. Even in the fading light of sunset—and even though all she could see were his head and shoulders—she recognized him. Improbably enough, Ian was here. In town. Listening to her sing.
“... that our flag was still there …” The band picked up volume as the crowd joined in for the last two lines. Ian was walking toward the stage, causing a few double takes as people recognized him. Fireworks lit up the sky as the crowd’s collective voice crested over the finish line. By the time Mai seated the microphone back into its stand and hopped down from the temporary stage, Ian was there.
“What are you—?” Her question was stopped by his kiss. A long, leisurely kiss that left Mai unable to tell whether the sizzling noises she was hearing came from the fireworks or the electricity zinging down her spine.
“Do you have to stay for the rest?” he murmured into her lips.
She shook her head, unable even to get out the word, “no.” Ian was here. Unless she was dreaming—which couldn’t be ruled out, because she dreamed about that night with Ian all the time.
“Then I’ll walk you home.” He laid his arm across her shoulders and tucked her in against his ribs.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”
“Last date was yesterday.”
They reached a street corner, where he stopped and kissed her again.
“I’m