I roll my eyes at my mother’s mention of the brand-new development in Long Island I had my heart set on. One she made me apply to “just for fun” so I could get a taste of it.
It worked because I wanted it too. A big dream home in the suburbs isn’t something many city girls aspire to in their mid-twenties. Especially not musicians. We dream of traveling, entertaining, living out our passion from anywhere—even tiny downtown apartments.
But not this musician. I don’t want to travel or have a big audience in my future. I want enough high-paying gigs so I can afford my own equipment, a sound room to record an album or two. And since we’re dreaming .?.?. a living room with a grand piano. A big, bright kitchen to brew coffee and burn pancakes because I’m busy humming the tune of my next hit.
The Lakeview Estates was perfect. Quiet town, big yard, amazing lake view surrounded by greenery. When I first heard about the project close to a year ago, Eric and I were still together. Still planning our life together—or at leastIwas.
When our relationship died, my dream of owning a home at the Estates didn’t die with it. Access to my inheritance did.
At least for another few years.
Because I refuse to marry just to buy my dream house.
“Just think—” Mom continues. “In a year, you could have a clean divorce and five hundred thousand dollars.”
“Goodbye, Mom. Good luck with the tour.”
“Wait, where will you stay?”
“I’ll figure something out.” I decide a healthy dose of guilt and worry might do the woman some good.
“Hang on, hang on.” She sighs. “How about you come Sunday night? Pack a few necessities for a few weeks and we’ll have a ball.”
I shiver. “You .?.?. don’t have another tour?”
“Not until my next release in February.”
Living with my mother was never a ball. In fact, it’s a nightmare. She keeps her place looking like the cover of a magazine at all times. It’s unlivable for someone like me. I’m no slob, but I’ve been known to leave the occasional milk carton out.
And there’s no doubt in my mind that that woman is going to keep on pressing me to get hitched, just so I can cash out.
But I’m out of options. And it will only be a few weeks.
“Sounds great,” I breathe with a forced smile. “I’ll, uh .?.?. stay with a friend till then.”
Three hours and a hefty suitcase later, I stop by the Lock Bar where I play piano four nights a week. Not exactly my dream job, but since Eric got me kicked out of all the fancier places I’ve played, it’s all I have left. Thankfully, his outbursts have been useless here. Billy is immune to all things jealous boyfriends.
“Hey boss,” I call over the ice Billy dumps into the sink behind the bar.
He glances at me, quickly scanning my non-work-appropriate attire. Usually, I’m in something low-cut, black, and sexy. Today, I’m in an oversized hoodie and a pair of skin-tight jeans. Then his eyes land on my suitcase.
Billy mutters a curse and sets down the bucket. “What’d you do?”
“What?”
“You skipping town? You in some kind of trouble?” He points a finger. “Is it that slimy ex of yours?”
I smile at him and set my apartment keys on the bar. “I need a favor. The biggest I’ll ever ask.”
He sighs. “Where’s the body?”
I laugh bitterly and tell him about my call with Eric. When he’s done cursing like a sailor, I take his hand and set the keys in his palm. “Sell everything in there and send me the cash?”
He tosses them lightly from hand to hand. “Thought he gave you till Friday.”
“He’ll be back. And I don’t want to be there.”
He looks around and nods. “Where you going?”
