He lifts his hands defensively. “Whoa. I only posted them to promote our gig. I assumed you were fine with it. You know I post stuff for the café all the time.”
She bites her lip, unconvinced as her gaze returns to me.
“They’re not even the full songs,” he adds, the smoothness of his voice returning. “I even tagged your account.”
“You did? How? You know I’m not on social media.”
“That’s why I created one for you. And a business email address. Well, I asked Daisy to. Remind me to send you the details. We wanted to doanything we could to support your music journey.” He smiles modestly, like they’ve done her a favour. “And hey, you’ve already got a couple of hundred followers thanks to the clips we made. I know it might not sound like much, but they love your music. They’re engaging, sharing the videos… Some of them have even seen you perform live at the café.” His voice softens. “This is how it starts, Lil. Word will spread. That’s the magic of social media. Every career begins with just a few real fans—and you know I’m one of them.”
“You’ve overstepped,” Lily-Anne says stiffly.
He instantly sobers, sidestepping like a seasoned fencer. “I know. And I’m sorry. I just want to see you succeed.”
His slick words have got her backed into a corner, and I can’t blame her for not knowing how to get out.
My throbbing knuckles aren’t anything to be proud of.
Ellenor comes forth to investigate. She takes my phone and scrolls. “Willoughby’s posted five clips,” she announces carefully. “Lily appears in four of them.” She glances at me. “She’s tagged in all of them.”
She extends my phone back. I feel hollow as I take it, like the rug’s been pulled out from under me.
“Seems like it’s just a misunderstanding,” Jack chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “You really need to stop assuming the worst of me, mate. I know how to look after my girl.”
Lily-Anne shoots him a confused look that I wish I could decipher. My chest twists—a slow, helpless ache.
Rupert shifts uncomfortably. Beside him, Barbara worries the pearls at her throat between her fingers. As usual, they want to help but are at a loss for what to say. It isn’t like them to be quiet, and seeing them like this fills me with shame. I’ve done this—violence in their own home.
Blood roars in my ears. I can’t decide if I’ve overreacted. But I’m certain I’m being manipulated.
Calmly, I address Jack. “In your first video, you said you’ve been working on ‘a little something.’”
He shrugs, easy and innocent. “Because it’s true. Lily needed an interlude for one of her songs. So I came up with one. No big deal.”
“You implied the song was yours.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Actually, you kind of did,” Ellenor says.
Lily-Anne looks uncertain, eyes darting between us. She trusts me—I know she does—but she’s too gentle for confrontation, too careful not to hurt anyone. She would never pass judgement as swiftly as Ellenor. It’s one of the things I admire most about her.
And it’s the very thing that keeps me from reaching for her now.
“Well, if I did, it was unintentional,” Jack says regretfully, still rubbing his jaw. “I’m very sorry if I caused any of this, Lily-Anne.”
How clever of him to apologise while reminding the room thatIwas the one who caused this. I threw the first and only punch. A villain indeed.
My vision blurs for a second, heat prickling behind my eyes. I change tack.
“I know Hilary plans to sign you.”
Jack smiles sweetly. “Well, here’s hoping.”
“And you’ve no consideration for Lily-Anne?”
His eyes narrow. “Hilary will meet her tonight. She already knows me, and I’ll make proper introductions after the gig. I’m hoping she’ll sign us both. So maybe try not to fuck it up for her, yeah?”
I go still. He’s twisting the knife, and he knows it.
