“For musicals at my high school and to perform at our county fair.” She looked around with wide-eyed amazement. “But nothing like this. I’m nervous.”
“You’ll do fine,” Lance assured her. “Good luck.”
She beamed, appearing not exactly confident but hopeful. “Thank you.”
The screen cut to the audition room. A ten-years-younger version of himself sat with a sour expression on his face. His trademark cowboy hat lay on the table. Another judge did a little dance trying to make him smile.
Memories rushed back.
Nash had been miserable that day.
It had been the final audition session in Seattle. All he’d wanted to do was finish so he could find a bar and get drunk. His girlfriend, Peyton, had broken up with him that morning, and his album hadn’t hit number one as everyone expected. Not that number three was bad, but he’d wanted to be at the top. He’d taken his bad mood out on the contestants.
Especially the ones toward the end of the day.
Which, if he recalled correctly, was almost over. Only one or two more singers were supposed to audition. The rest who were waiting would be told they’d run out of time.
The video showed the three judges seated. Ivy entered the room with a bounce to her step and a smile as bright as a ray of sunshine. A touch of mascara and pink lip gloss were the only makeup he noticed, but she must have worn foundation because the lights weren’t washing her out.
Still, she was dressed and acted like a teenager from a small town. One who likely starred in every production her high school put on and was a frequent soloist in her church choir. Before she’d sung one note, he’d wanted to send her home. The music business would leave someone so sweet and pure jaded.
The longtime judge, who liked to think he was in charge, asked Ivy to tell them her name, age, hometown, and what she would perform.
She did and then mentioned a piece Nash had written for his now ex-girlfriend. The song had been Peyton’s first big hit. He wondered how Ivy would do with it.
But as she sang, Nash cringed.
Then and now.
Watching in his hotel suite, he recognized how her fresh and creative arrangement hinted at her songwriting skills—but she was off-key and her voice shaky. Unfortunately, she never recovered.
When she finished, not one judge jumped to their feet. No one clapped. The first two judges offered constructive feedback. One thought she showed potential and should move forward to the next round. The other felt she needed more training and maturity. That meant Ivy’s fate rested with Nash. And he’d known what he had to do.
Discourage her.
How awful was that? What idiot had thought he’d be a good judge?
Because he sucked.
He didn’t need to watch to remember what he said to Ivy, but he did—for punishment. So he could remind himself what a jerk he’d been to her and the others who auditioned.
As she stood with her hands clasped, her hope-filled gaze had made him uncomfortable, so he’d looked away.
He’d been a loser for not meeting her eyes.
Mama Aimee had wanted him to issue a public apology after the auditions aired, but R.J. had said the singers knew that was part of the show so Nash didn’t have to do anything.
“The other judges gave you constructive feedback. But you’re old enough to hear the truth.” Nash’s voice sounded harsh and critical. Almost cruel, which was probably why Ivy’s smile vanished and her face paled. “Only the strong survive in the music business. You’re not ready. You sang off-key for the first half of the song. Your voice was weak and pitchy. Some of that might be due to nerves, but you never gained control of your vocals. My advice is to go home. Not everyone has the talent to make it in this business. You don’t.”
Ivy’s eyes gleamed. Her lower lip quivered.
Watching this now—something he hadn’t done ten years ago because of his busy schedule and not being interested—was painful. He’d been cocky, arrogant, and downright mean that day, especially to Ivy. The singers shared the same dream as him, but he’d spoken to them as if he were king and they were…nothing.
Nash swallowed. Maybe he deserved the bad boy title. Not for his recent mistakes, but for what he’d done on that show. His face burned with shame.
The camera panned from Ivy to him. He sat silent, waiting for her to contradict him as some earlier contestants had.
Ivy didn’t.
