“Yes. I… yes. Oh my God! Yes! Right away!” I liked what she was saying to Sara, but I wanted her to say just that to me when I made her come next.
She hung up her call and turned to me. Stared up at me, a tear sliding down her cheek, a smile on her face.
“What? What happened?” Riley asked.
Summer licked her lips and looked at Riley. “Your clip got seen by a producer. She wants a demo to decide whether to sign me. I might be getting a recording contract.”
Riley hugged Summer and started jumping up and down. I grinned.
I didn’t remember the last time I felt like this. I was so fucking happy because my girl was happy. Her dreams were my dreams, and I’d make them happen, any way I could.
22
SUMMER
* * *
I hummed to myself making us dinner while Boone showered. It was grilled cheese and soup I’d found in his freezer in a container labeled SOUP. As it thawed, I discovered it was beef vegetable and the tangy scent of it filled the cabin. Riley had left after I promised to keep her updated.
I might be getting a music contract.
Me.
I put the spatula up to my face like a microphone and sang a few lines before flipping the melty, buttery sandwiches.
I was happy. Insanely, over-the-top, happy.
A music contract.
A MUSIC CONTRACT. Wait. On our snowy walk last week, Boone had mentioned he knew someone in the business. Was this person, Sara, her? I’d been so excited and overwhelmed, I hadn’t put it together until now.
I turned off the flame beneath the soup and grilled cheese sandwiches and went to the bathroom door. I could hear the water running. I knocked lightly then entered. The room was steamy and warm.
“Boone?”
He stuck his head out around the shower curtain. His hair was wet and soapy, sticking up in all directions. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I was thinking…” I dropped onto the closed lid of the toilet.
He slid the curtain back in place and probably started rinsing the shampoo from his hair.
“Who is this Sara person? I was too excited to remember her last name.”
“Sara Mayes,” he said.
The bathroom had white walls, white tile that covered the floor and halfway up the walls and a marble topped vanity. The clawfoot tub looked old, like he’d found it somewhere and installed it here for the space to look vintage. It worked. It blended in with the cabin style perfectly. A fluffy tan bathmat was beneath my toes.
“Right. You mentioned you knew her. So you reached out?”
The water shut off, and a second later, the tan and white striped shower curtain slid all the way back.
There was Boone. Naked. Wet. God, he was gorgeous.
He stepped onto the bathmat and grabbed a towel from the rack.
“Yes. She was a client of mine when I worked in New York. Thought she might be interested.”
He ran the towel through his hair, drying it, but making it stick up every which way.
