Rockstar Romeo - Abbie Zanders Page 0,23

I did it because those were my only options.”

They nodded in understanding.

“One day, my teacher asked me to stay after practice and sing for her friend. I did. Turned out, her friend was an operatic teacher at Juilliard.”

“Holy shit, Mom!”

I chuckled. “My thoughts exactly. Anyway, she thought I had potential and offered me a scholarship.”

“You never told us you went to Juilliard!”

“Because I didn’t.” I looked down at my hands. “Even with the scholarship, my parents couldn’t afford it. But the Juilliard instructor knew someone who lived not too far away, a retired opera singer, and encouraged me to train in coloratura.”

“Color-what?”

“Coloratura. Think of it like vocal gymnastics, often written for operatic sopranos. It didn’t sound like fun to me, but then my teacher told me that Pat Benatar trained in coloratura, and I couldn’t sign up fast enough.”

I smiled. “It was challenging and fun and kept my interest for a couple years. Eventually though, I started skipping lessons to go to clubs and listen to live bands. That’s how I met your father. He and a few of his buddies were starting a band of their own. I auditioned and got the part, and well, that changed everything.”

“That’s when you left.”

I nodded. While they knew that I’d left home at an early age, I’d never gone into the details, and they’d stopped asking about their grandparents years ago.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“If we hadn’t come along, do you think you’d still be part of Black Raven?”

“No,” I answered emphatically and without hesitation. “Absolutely not.”

They looked at me doubtfully. If they took nothing else away from this conversation, they had to understand that I didn’t blame them, nor did I harbor any resentment for having to change my path. My boys were the best things that had ever happened to me.

“I’m much happier now than I ever was then because I have you, and I wouldn’t change that for anything. Now, come here and hug your mother before I start to cry.”

They rolled their eyes and sighed, but they were smiling and did as I’d asked. I pulled them both to me, straining to get my arms around them. My sons were practically men, but for those precious few minutes, they were my little boys again.

“He’s here,” Brian announced, breaking into my reverie.

This is it. Bracing myself, I quickly swiped my eyes and answered the door, shocked to see not just Ross, but Ian standing there as well.

“Evie,” he greeted with his gravelly voice and bloodshot eyes.

I cringed. Ian was the only one who’d ever called me that. I didn’t care for it any more now than I had then.

Ross cast me an apologetic look, but it was unnecessary. I knew the importance of choosing your battles with Ian. He could be worse than a spoiled child—or a pampered rock star—when challenged. Ross clearly wanted Ian on good behavior—at least for these first awkward moments—and on that, we agreed.

I summoned my dealing-with-a-difficult-client voice—friendly but polite. “Ian. This is a surprise.”

He grinned and openly checked me out from head to toe before licking his lips. “You look fantastic.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I could say the same for him. Clearly, the marketing department had used old photos and robust editing software in the comeback tour promos.

Ian was only a few years older than me, but time and life had not been kind. Then again, years of chemical abuse would do that to you. Looking at his exceptionally thin frame, the mom in me wondered vaguely when the last time was that he’d had a decent meal.

My thoughts wandered to Jace. He was about the same age as Ian, yet he looked amazing. He had none of the heroin-chic thing going that Ian sported. And come to think of it, Jace hadn’t even accepted a beer the night before, choosing a bottled water instead. Either Jace Logan was an exception to the typical rocker stereotype or he’d just been on really good behavior around me and the boys.

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” Ian asked, cutting into my musings.

I wanted to say no, but I was trying to play nice for the twins’ sake. “Of course. Come in.”

I stepped aside to let Ian pass, exchanging a glance with Ross. He looked just as surprised as I felt. In the ten years we’d lived here, Ian had never so much as driven by as far as I knew.

Brian and Tommy greeted Ian, not like a father, but not like a complete stranger either.