“Dilynne and Laney mentioned it the other night at the winery. If it makes you feel any better, it made your little performance last week make a lot more sense,” he explains.
“My performance?”
His eyes bore into mine, as if he’s recounting the exact memory, bit by bit. “When you sang to Remy to get her to fall asleep.”
“Oh. Yeah.” My heart rate climbs as we stare at each other, as I remember watching him sleep peacefully on the couch for almost anhour before I finally laid Remy down but didn’t wake him up to go to bed because he looked so exhausted.
“Don’t be upset with them. The guys were curious about you, and Laney explained—”
“I’m not mad,” I say, clearing my throat and turning my back to him while attempting to get my pulse to return to normal. The truth is, I was kind of enjoying no one knowing why I’m here licking my wounds. I told Laney because I felt compelled to in that moment, but something about Henley knowing makes me feel inadequate. I mean, he hired me to be his nanny, but that’s not even close to what I was doing before this.
Honestly, I’ve felt more purposeful in the past two weeks as Remy’s caretaker than I have in the past three years.
The reality of that slams into me like a freight train.
“You sure?”
Spinning around, I paste on my most convincing smile. “Of course. It’s fine. I mean, it’s the truth.”
“And is it true that your parents don’t support you wanting a career in music?”
I shrug. “Pretty much.”
He takes a step closer, a pinch in his brow as he places two fingers beneath my chin, tipping it up so I can meet his eyes. It steals the breath from my lungs.
Up close like this, I can make out each of his eyelashes and count every piece of dark stubble dusting that hard jaw, and as I watch his Adam’s apple bob, I clench my thighs together because God, this man is rugged and handsome, and right now, his attention is purely on me.
“I’m sorry they don’t support you,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Because listening to you sing the other night…” His eyes close, almost as if he’s transporting himself back to that moment, inhaling deeply before releasing his breath and snapping back to the present. He jerks away and turns his back to me, pushing a hand through his hair. Glancing at me over his shoulder, he says, “You’re really fucking talented, El. Don’t give up on what you want for your life, okay?”
Stunned and confused, I stand there and finally release the breath I was holding. “Thanks.” That’s all I can manage to say.
“You should get going.”
“I’m—I’m waiting for Dilynne to pick me up.”
As if on cue, a car horn honks from outside. Henley strides over to the front window, peeking through the blinds. “Looks like your ride is right on time.”
I reach behind me and grab my purse from the entry table and sling it over my shoulder. “Okay. Well, you have my number if you need anything.”
Nodding, he turns back to Remy. “We’ll be fine. Have fun.”
But the tone of his voice sounds like he doesn’t mean those words at all, not even one little bit.
***
“So…you told your brother about my singing aspirations?” Taking the tiny straw between my teeth, I sip my whiskey and Coke as Dilynne waits for the bartender to finish making her drink.
“Well, Laney told me and I didn’t realize he didn’t know.” Her eyes meet mine. “Is that a problem?”
Shaking my head, I stir my drink slowly. “No, it just caught me off guard when he brought it up.”
She turns to face me head on now, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry. We didn’t know you weren’t sharing that with anyone. Otherwise, I totally would have honored that. So would Laney.”
I shrug. “It’s no big deal.” Meanwhile, inside I’m still replaying the look on his face when he told me how talented he thought I was.
And it wasn’t that his words didn’t mean anything.
It’s that I’ve heard those words before from a man, and believing them cost me much more than just my pride.
