Pastor John leaned forward. “It sounds like you’ve found your newest fan.”
She picked up the napkin and, in big, bold letters, she wrote a message to Zac, then scribbled her signature across the bottom.
After he’d read what she’d written, Zac studied her face. “This could be the title of a song.”
“You’re close. It was the title of my last album.” Willow had spent six months writing the songs for,Live Like There’s No Tomorrow.The album had massive worldwide sales and had earned her two Grammy Awards. But it wasn’t the only reason she’d added the words to the napkin—and Zac knew it.
John cleared his throat. “I promised Mabel I’d save a dance for her. I’ll see you later.”
Willow wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress. Zac’s intense stare was making her nervous. “What are you thinking about?”
“You. There’s a whole lot more to your life than what you’ve told me.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Like what?”
“Why didn’t you tell me your manager stole the rights to your songs?”
Willow’s heart sank. “Pastor John—”
“He didn’t tell me. In between your songs, I googled Willow Clarke. The Internet is full of stories about you.”
“Don’t believe everything you read.”
“Your manager didn’t steal the rights to your songs?”
She leaned her elbows on the table and focused on the people on the dance floor. “That part was true. When David wanted to work with me, I was so excited. He had a great reputation and had managed some of the biggest names in the music industry. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask a lawyer to look at my contract until I was ready to release my first album. That’s when I discovered I’d given him the rights to my first three songs.”
“Did you get them back?”
Willow shook her head. “It was my own fault. At least it made me more cautious when I hired my next manager.” She took a deep breath. “Some of the stories that were published about me are totally untrue.”
“You didn’t have lots of wild parties in your six-million-dollar mansion?”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m afraid not. I didn’t own a mansion and the wildest party I went to was a friend’s bachelorette party. While I was touring, I spent my evenings in my hotel room, watching Hallmark movies and reading. When I was in Nashville, I spent most of my time writing new songs.”
“Were you happy?”
Willow thought about her answer. “At the time, I was living my dream. When I was performing it was perfect, but behind the scenes it was harder. People treated me differently, expected me to be someone who could help them with their career. I had to be careful about what I said and did. By the time I left Nashville, I was burned out and lonely. If it weren’t for my parents and the friends I made in Sapphire Bay, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Do you miss being part of the music industry?”
“I miss singing and spending time with musicians.” She smiled as the band launched into the chorus of their next song. “But the life I have now is much better.”
“It sounds like moving home was the right decision.”
“It was.” Willow tilted her head to the side. Zac looked bone weary, as if he were holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. She could only imagine what his life must have been like in Kabul. “While you’re here, I hope you find something to make you happy.”
Zac’s brown eyes connected with hers. “So do I.”
His softly spoken words made her heart clench tight. Willow had never lived in a war zone, never felt the responsibility that came with saving people’s lives. But she did know what it was like to think you’d never be happy again—that the best part of who you were had disappeared a long time ago.
Zac folded the autographed napkin in half and placed it inside his jacket pocket. “In spite of everything that brought you here, I’m glad you came home.”
Willow studied the warmth in his eyes and smiled. “So am I. Would you like to dance?”
He looked at the other wedding guests and grimaced.
She held out her hand. “Don’t worry. No one will be watching.” When Zac wrapped his hand around hers, a spark of pure energy flared between them.
