Loved by You (22 page)

One: She was going to set her own rules from now on. She may not want to be on stage, but she wasn’t going to bury her music because she was scared. She’d figure out a way. And she was going back to teaching, starting with Ashley.

Conclusion number two: She needed a dress.

Which led to the third: She needed her sister, because no way was she going shopping alone.

Nellie said Bijou had gone to the coffee shop, so KT took a walk. Sure enough, Bijou sat at the counter in Grounds for Thought with Gwen and Lola.

Great—she could kill two birds with one stone. She marched up to them and pointed at Gwen. “Tell Ashley I want her ass on the piano bench tomorrow at the usual time, and I’m never calling her Spike ever again.”

“Spike?” Lola asked with a lift of her brow.

Gwen didn’t question anything though. She just smiled and said, “Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” She looked at her sister. “I was pissed at you but now I need you to help me buy a dress, so I’m over it.”

Bijou nodded. “I’m willing to let you use my superior shopping skills for your own gain.”

Then she shot up and hugged KT. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in her ear.

KT sniffed back tears. “Let’s just blame Mom and forget about it.”

“Deal.” Laughing, Bijou let her go. “So what do you need the dress for?”

Taking a deep breath, she let it out. “For the show.”

Her sister shook her head. “There’s no need to be in the show. I’ve taken care of my end.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I want to know what that means, but I’m still playing, because it’s a major part of the way I’m asking Chance to forgive me.”

“A grand gesture!” Lola clapped her hands together. “I’ll go shopping to support love.”

“You’d go shopping regardless,” Gwen said as she hopped off the stool. She clasped KT in a hug. “I’m happy you’re back. Good luck shopping. You’re in great hands, but I don’t envy you.”

Lola slung an arm over KT’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to her. This won’t hurt.”

“Much,” Bijou added. She looked at Lola. “Something slinky, don’t you think? Since she’s trying to get her man back.”

“If he’s a true hero, he’s going to want her, not what she’s wearing. The dress is just going to come off anyway, if she apologizes right.” Lola shrugged. “But it doesn’t hurt to remind him what he’s got.”

“But we keep it simple, like black.” Bijou tapped her finger to her lips, thinking. “And backless, because we can have her piano angled away from the audience. It’ll help her if she isn’t looking at them as she plays.”

KT’s heart melted at her sister’s thoughtfulness. To cover the unfamiliar bout of sentimentality, she put her hands on her hips and scowled. “Guys. I’m right here.”

“And we put her hair up to show off the line of her back,” Lola said.

Bijou nodded. “But we need something different than a simple up-do, because she’s a rock princess when all’s said and done.”

Lola snapped her fingers. “Bling!”

“Bling,” Bijou echoed with a gasp.

KT shook her head. “What have I gotten myself into?” Groaning, she covered her face—and the happy smile stealing across it.

Chapter Twenty-seven

All of San Francisco was in the concert hall. KT peeked through the heavy velvet curtains searching the crowd filing in. The audience milled about, laughing, chatting, and drinking. With the house lights up, KT could see their happy faces, all expecting a great show. All of San Francisco was waiting to hear her play, except the one person she wanted most.

Where the hell was Chance?

Bijou had promised she’d make sure he was there, but he wasn’t backstage and trying to locate him in the crowd was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

One hand on her stomach, she lifted the other to her lips. She couldn’t puke.

She might puke.

No—she shook her head—she wasn’t going to puke. If she threw up, she’d probably get her dress messy and then Bijou and Lola would be pissed.

Where was Chance? She was only going through this for him, and he wasn’t here? The jerk.

Okay, he wasn’t a jerk, and she was doing this more for herself than anyone else. She wasn’t going to be a coward any longer.

Her stomach clenched as more people filled the auditorium. Maybe there was something to being a coward.

“KT,” Bijou said sharply.

The curtain was yanked away from her hands, and Bijou turned her around. “What are you doing?” her sister asked, surveying her critically. She pulled KT’s hand away from her face. “Don’t touch. You have makeup on.”

“Where’s Chance?” she managed to ask without swallowing her tongue.

Bijou looked sideways.

“That does
not
inspire confidence in me,” KT said.

“Okay, I don’t know where he is,” Bijou confessed in a low voice. “But I’ve sent Lola to make sure he’s here.”

“You know I’m on first, right? My plan to win him back will have less chance of working if he’s
not here to hear me
,” she said, her voice escalating.

“Girls, are you fighting?” Their mother strode toward them.

Correction, the woman scolding them in her silver beaded flapper dress was Lara in all her glory. She had on stage makeup and her hair was piled on her head in an elaborate tower of curls with a beaded headband at her forehead.

The only imperfection to her was the frown on her face as she looked over KT and Bijou. “Why are you arguing? KT, are you okay? You look pale.”

She waved at her face. “How can you tell under all this paint?”

Lara arched a brow at Bijou. “At least she’s not catatonic.”

“I guess that’s a blessing,” her sister said uncertainly. “Should I get Will to talk to her?”

“It couldn’t hurt.” Her mom leaned to look her in the eye. “How are you holding up, sweeting?”

“I’m going to puke, but I’ll try not to mess up my makeup.”

“That’s my girl.” Lara rubbed her arm. “If it helps, you look …”

When her mom didn’t finish her sentence, KT offered her, “Green?”

“Stunning. Powerful.” She tipped her head. “I love how those strands of rhinestones are woven into your hair. You’re making your own style work for you, Karma.”

She glanced at Bijou, who was the real mastermind here.

Her sister shrugged, and her red dress shimmered like fire with the movement. “I just worked with what I had. It’s you pulling it together.”

The lights backstage flashed to signal five minutes.

Her stomach clenched painfully, and her pits pooled with sweat. She swallowed the bile. “It’s about to come apart.”

Lara and Bijou looked at each other. “Will,” they said in unison.

Bijou strutted off on her impossibly high shoes and came back almost instantly with her boyfriend, who was playing with her tonight.

When KT had told their parents she’d perform, their mom had offered Bijou her choice of musicians to accompany her. Bijou had only wanted Will.

“Hey there, KT,” Will said in a soothing voice that belied his rocker image. “How’s it shaking?”

“So hard it might fly to pieces,” she replied. She gave him a flat look. “If you start quoting Zen bullshit, I’ll aim my impending projectile vomit at you. It’d be a shame, because I actually like you.”

He smiled and took her hand. It felt steady and grounding, giving her space to breathe. “We talked about this,” he said in his horse-whisperer voice. “We’ll seat you before the curtain goes up. You’ll face away from the audience and close your eyes. You won’t ever see the audience. They aren’t there.”

“She peeked,” Bijou tattled.

“Karma.” Her mom sighed.

“I couldn’t help it,” she said in a small voice.

“It’s okay,” Will assured her. “If you panic, just breathe. You can do this. I heard you play. KT, you’re amazing.”

She nodded, not believing it.

The lights flickered in warning.

“Oh geez.” She gripped Will’s hand.

“Let’s sit and get settled.” He led her to the piano bench. “Put your hands on top. Ground yourself. This is where you belong. This is home.”

Sitting and being off the unstable shoes did a lot to settle her. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

Will put her hands on the keys, and something in her eased. His hands fell away and he whispered, “This is it, KT. Play like you play for yourself. Play for the love of it.”

Play for love. For Chance.

She could do that. He’d be here—her heart was sure of it.

Eyes still closed, she ran her fingers over the keys, warming them up. She heard the stir of the curtains and the drone of the audience hushing into a murmur and then silence.

She ran her fingers over the keys, stumbling. She froze, opening her eyes and staring at black and white.

The crowd was completely silent.

Her heart sounded too loud, echoing in her ears. She swallowed, twice, and again, willing her fingers to get going.

She couldn’t chicken out. She couldn’t let everyone down.

This was home. A crew of expert piano movers had even brought her own Pleyel to the concert hall. She had to do this.

No—she
wanted
to do this. For her mom, for Chance, but mostly for herself.

Her fingers ran over the keys again, and then she began to play.

She could hear the hesitancy in her music. She shook her head and closed her eyes and
played
.

The audience disappeared. In her mind, she pictured Chance leaning on the edge of her piano, watching her with awe and love.

Love
.

He’d loved her a long time. Not from the first moment, maybe—that’d been lust. But he wouldn’t have bought that ring for her if he hadn’t meant it.

She’d been such a scared fool.

Without thinking about it, she transitioned her music into a different song that she’d written, one of loss and loneliness. She opened her mouth and began to croon indistinct sounds of loss.

But then she transitioned back into her concerto, hopeful and strong. The sounds became words of love and encouragement.

She opened her eyes and met Chance’s.

He stood at the back of the stage, in the shadows, watching her like a hawk. She sang from her heart, directly to his, telling him how much she longed for him—forever.

And then she heard Will’s electric guitar segue into her concerto, and she softened her music the way they’d discussed. She stopped singing as Bijou’s voice rose from the wings. Her spotlight dimmed and suddenly all the focus was on Bijou.

She waited until she was completely in the dark before she rushed offstage—one, to get away and, two, to find Chance.

He wasn’t there.

Looking for him, she ran into Ashley—literally. The girl staggered back, and KT reached out to steady her, ready to cut off the tirade she knew the kid was about to launch into.

Except Ashley only looked at her with awe and reverently whispered, “That. Was.
Awesome.
”

She’d almost forgotten she’d sent the kid an invitation. KT patted the girl on her head, held a finger to her lips, and moved further backstage in search of Chance.

Her mother stepped out from behind a velvet curtain and grabbed her arm. Without a word, Lara looked her in the eye and smiled proudly.

The knot inside her eased, and her legs wobbled. But she was willing to blame the ridiculous heels for that.

Her mother pointed to the dressing room assigned to KT. With a suggestive wink, Lara pushed her toward the door.

KT yanked open the door and looked inside.

He perched on her dressing table. “Nice performance, Karma.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So glad you could make it,” she said with saccharine sweetness.

He shrugged. “I had nothing better to do since my girlfriend dumped me.”

“She didn’t dump you.” She put her hands on her hips, indignant. Her ankles wobbled and, with a muffled curse, she kicked off the damn shoes.

“I hope you aren’t going to throw those at my head.” He eyed them cautiously. “They look lethal.”

“I should throw them at you.” She glared at him. “You ran away from me! A relationship won’t work when both parties run away, and I’m the runner here.”

“Do we have a relationship?”

She strode toward him. “Now you’re
really
pissing me off.”

Chance looked at her warily, but she didn’t give him the opportunity to say anything. “I’ve been trying to keep myself safe, but maybe I don’t need to as much anymore,” she said, “because maybe you could help me.”

“So you want me to be your bodyguard?” he asked willfully obtuse.

She took his face in her hands. “I want you to hold my hair back when I puke and soothe my back.”

Chance blinked. “That’d sound weird coming from anyone else, but from you it’s sweet.”

“Because I mean it.” She knelt in front of him. “I’ve been happy living in my bubble, but you were right. I was scared. And now that I know what’s on the other side of the bubble, I don’t want to stay inside any longer.”

“I was thinking of leaving San Francisco.”

KT froze with a fear worse than her stage fright. “Are you still thinking that?”

He shook his head. “Ante Up convinced me we should stay. And I got a job. I’ve never had a job before, but I’m pretty sure it’s bad form to leave before your first day.”

“With Roger?” she asked, taking his hand.

“No, with his competitor Steve Hall.” He looked at her. “The pig and I found an apartment, too. We made sure there’s room for a big-ass piano.”

Her heart swelled. She kissed his hand twice as she tried to get herself under control. Then she looked up into his eyes and said, “Marry me, for real. Nothing pretend, not temporary. You and me and our pig forever.”

He lifted her up to her feet, which was a good thing because she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get off the floor by herself in the tight dress Bijou and Lola had picked out. He laid his hand along her face and said, “I wondered how long it’d take you to ask.”

“Bijou says I’m a slacker,” she said softly.

“You certainly were this time.”

She nodded. “A coward, too.”

“I’d noticed,” he said, drawing her to him.

“But I’m done with that now.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking of releasing my music under my own label.”