a bunch of times.
“You okay?” he asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled his seatbelt.
“Yeah, why?”
He smiled, curious. “You look nervous.” His eyes widened a degree, like he’d made a mistake. “I mean, you look amazing.”
“Thanks. You too.” Fuck, I was nervous, but he didn’t have to know that. I shot him an exaggerated, hard look. “I’m nervous you might not put out,” I deadpanned. “You’re a sure thing tonight, right?”
A surprised laugh burst from him. “Oh, yes, ma’am.”
My gaze trailed over the interior of his Jeep, which was spotless, as he started the engine. Of course his car was perfect. It didn’t matter how messy a guy could be at home—in my experience, they always took care of their car.
Troy drove to a restaurant in Brentwood, a suburb on the far side of the city where the chances of running into anyone we knew were nonexistent. Not that it mattered if we did. I could always say it was a work dinner. Plus, we were celebrating his big break.
Conversation flowed so easily during dinner. We laughed as the server carded us when ordering drinks, although I had no idea if she’d done it because Troy looked young and she carded me because she was being polite.
We talked about the first concerts we’d ever been to. The best and worst experiences we’d had when performing. Favorite song to sing.
“Easy.” Troy set down his nearly empty pint of beer. “‘Power.’”
It was a Saturday night and the restaurant was bustling, but the sound faded away. I gave him a dubious look. “All the songs in the world, and you’re picking that one?”
“You wrote it,” he said simply. “And you wrote it for me.”
“I did.” I licked my lips to stop myself from mentioning I wrote it about the way I felt about him.
“Can we talk business for a second?” He leaned forward, and his eyes turned serious. “I want ‘Power’ to be my closing song when I perform. Is that okay with you?”
Breath caught in my lungs. He was only allowed three songs in his set, because Stella already had an opening act she was touring with.
“We’d need to get Ardy and Stella to—”
“Yeah, I know. What I’m asking,” he said, “is if everyone else signs off on it, will you?”
Didn’t he know this question was silly? That he didn’t even need to ask? “Yes.” I smiled. “If you want to sing it—I’d be honored.”
Our phones were face down on the table, and when it vibrated, we both flipped ours over. He glanced at my screen and saw the name Clark at the top. To his credit, Troy attempted not to react, but I could see how irritated he was.
I sucked in a breath. “Okay, so you’re a young’un . . . How do I block a number?”
Relief swept through him and was quickly replaced by a victorious smile.
I spent Sunday recovering from the marathon sex I’d had with Troy and dodging Jenna’s questions about how my date had gone.
“Great,” was all I said.
By Monday I was back to being consumed by my job. There were fall festivals I was trying to get two of my clients booked into, a debut album launch for a singer-songwriting duo I’d signed in January, and an international tour of a bluegrass band on my list to help set up.
On top of all that, on Tuesday there was a contract sitting on my desk which had come over from Warbler’s legal attorney. I spent my lunch break reviewing it, and the packaging Warbler was putting together for Troy’s set. He’d sat for headshots this morning and texted me that it went well.
I left the office a little before five, grabbed the mail from my mailbox when I got home, and sorted it as I walked toward the house. My footsteps slowed as I tore open the envelope with my homeowner’s association logo in the corner, dreading its contents before even reading the letter. Ever since Judy Maligner, my neighbor two doors down, had been elected president, the HOA had become a headache to deal with.
“What now?” I groaned.
When I read the contents of the letter, I got so angry, I turned and headed for her house, cutting across the Lowes’ lawn and marching up her front porch steps. I stabbed my finger on the doorbell and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for her to answer.
Like me, Judy was a relatively young divorcee who lived alone, but that was where our similarities