“No,” Will admitted.
But before Grayson could explain to Will how important this topic was and how much it had changed the trajectory of his life, Greta appeared before them, her hands clasped.“Everyone must follow me!We have a very special performance,” she said.“Bring your drinks!There will be more food in the concert hall.”
Will laughed and sipped down the rest of his whiskey.“That’s my cue,” he said.“We’re performing a mini-set.”
Grayson’s heart lifted.“It’ll be just like old times.”
“Hopefully, we’re a little bit better than we were in 2000,” Will joked.“We’ve had twenty-five years to practice.If we’re getting worse, you have to be honest with us.Maybe it’s time to pack it in.”
Grayson laughed good-naturedly.He couldn’t imagine anything further from the truth.
Will split off to find Ella for their performance, leaving Grayson to mill along with the crowd, through the long hallway and into the residency.At the far end of the residency was a sort of ballroom, grand and empty save for a mini-stage upon which sat a drum set, a guitar, a bass, and a microphone.Grayson spotted Camille in the corner, gossiping with the younger sect of Copperfield women.One of Ella’s sisters approached, and Grayson heard that she could speak French, as well.It seemed the Copperfields were full of mysteries of their own, lifetimes within each family member.Grayson went to the long table near the wall to grab a glass of wine and a Christmas cookie, which he ate with his eyes closed, surprised at how charmed he was by the flavor.It reminded him of his grandmother’s mini Christmas parties in New York when he was a boy.
There was a hush in the crowd.Grayson turned to find Ella and Will on stage, Ella with the bass and Will fiddling with his drumsticks.Usually, Ella played guitar.Who was playing tonight?Grayson searched the crowd until, finally, a beautiful blond woman appeared, mounted the stage, and strung the guitar strap around her torso.When she strummed the strings, electricity coursed through Grayson’s body.
At first, it was just a hunch.But as their first song began, the blond woman opened her mouth and began to sing, using a voice that Grayson could have picked out anywhere.His heart dropped into his stomach.For a little while, he thought he was dreaming.But as time went on, and as one song went to the next, he knew he wasn’t.
The singer was Stevie Franklin.She couldn’t be anyone else.
Grayson tried to fathom what had brought Stevie here to the Copperfield House.He’d known that Stevie and Ella were friends.But in the years after his relationship with Stevie, he’d never heard or seen any sign that Stevie’s music career had continued.She’d never been featured on any of Ella and Will’s famous albums.She’d never toured with them.When Grayson had dared search for Stevie online, he’d discovered nothing.His deepest fear had been that she’d died, but he’d never found a record of that either.
Yet here she was: forty-five years old after all this time.
Like always, Stevie’s voice had an incredible effect on Grayson.Tears filled his eyes.Unable to stay in the back of the hall, he walked slowly through the crowd until he appeared before her, reminding himself not to fall over.Stevie’s eyes were closed, as though she wanted to continue to avoid him.Had she already seen him?Or had she caught wind of his arrival and put two and two together?
He remembered when he’d first gotten the idea to reach out to Will and Ella, to feature their song on the Water Works commercial.He’d wanted to link his new life with the one he’d had to leave behind.He’d wanted to feel like that time mattered.
He’d thought of Stevie, of course, because she’d been closest to his heart.But he’d reached out to Ella and Will because they were the ones who’d “made it” in the fame sense.
It felt as though fate had delivered Stevie back to him.
As she strummed her guitar and belted out song after song, he couldn’t help but notice that she wore no wedding ring.He wondered if she’d ever gotten married or if she was divorced or nearly divorced, as he was.He pondered if she’d had a child.He wondered where life’s many roads had taken her.He questioned if he’d have the strength to go up and talk to her after this.His instinct was to run out of the Copperfield House and back to the hotel to hide.
When their set finished, Ella thanked the audience.She blushed with happiness.
“We’re so grateful to have our old friend Stevie Franklin joining us today,” she said.
“It’s been my pleasure, Ella,” Stevie said, her eyes scanning the crowd.
Grayson was terrified when those gorgeous eyes landed on him.When they did, they stuck, just as he’d known they would.He stared back.He didn’t want to let her go.
ChapterEighteen
It took all of Stevie’s strength to rip her eyes away from Grayson’s.Audience applause filtered out, but her ears continued to ring with the intensity of their set.Mostly, to keep in line with Greta’s vision, they’d played Christmas songs, but Stevie had sung them as though she were on the edge of heartbreak.She’d felt Grayson’s curiosity about her.She’d felt his need for her.She’d also felt her inner rage, remembering how they’d abandoned each other during her tremendous time of need.I never told him, she thought now as she unplugged her guitar, clearing the stage for the next musician.He doesn’t know about Joni.He should know about Joni.He should know that I wasn’t strong enough to keep her from leaving me.He should know that his daughter left me, just like he did.Her thoughts chased themselves in circles.
She thought she was going to throw up.
As she stepped off the stage, a beautiful French woman with sharp cheekbones appeared before her.She was maybe twenty-five, wearing a black jumpsuit and her hair in messy curls.“That was so wonderful,” the woman said.“You are the very best singer I have ever heard.”
Something about the urgency in the woman’s eyes gave Stevie pause.“Thank you,” she said.She didn’t trust her own voice.
“Really,” the woman pushed, clasping her own hands.“It has been a very long time since someone’s voice cracked me open.”
Stevie was caught off guard.Something about the woman’s face tugged at her.It was then Stevie realized that she looked so much like Joni.She was speechless.
Suddenly, a man appeared beside the French woman.Stevie knew better than to look up at him.Slowly, all the pieces of the puzzle were clicking into place.
“Papa,” the French woman said, raising her chin, “was she not wonderful?”
