“Maybe you’ll even give Reena some brief feedback and guidance about her music, one way or the other?” I look at Reena. “Would that be helpful to you?”
“That would be a dream come true. Good or bad. Please. Just give me brutal honesty.”
“That happens to be my specialty, Reena. I’ll look it over in the next few days and be in touch.”
“Thank you so much! Oh my gosh.”
“Reed, as long as you’re feeling benevolent tonight, why don’t you grab the mic and talk to everyone for a couple minutes about the music industry, before Alessandra starts her performance? When Reena introduces you, that’s when she can make the announcement about her collecting handles and links for your music scout.”
Reed says no. “It’s Alessandra’s night to shine,” he insists. Blah, blah. But I know he’s only being cranky, so I insist he’d be doing a huge kindness for every person in the coffee house. And Reena backs me up.
“Fine. Just a few words, though. This is Alessandra’s night.”
As I pop over to Alessandra to tell her the plan, Reena heads to the small stage. She introduces Reed and tells everyone they should give any demos and Instagram handles to her, to be forwarded to Reed’s music scout. “So, without further ado,” Reena says. “I give you... Reed Rivers!”
Enthusiastic applause erupts, during which Reed traipses onstage. He takes a stool and grabs the mic, and begins talking to the crowd about what he believes they all need to focus on as aspiring musicians, if they hope to make an actual career in music. And, just like at the panel discussion, every person in the room is riveted to him. Mesmerized. In awe. After about ten minutes of speaking, Reed opens it up for questions, and, instantly, he’s deluged with a roomful of raised hands.
As Reed answers questions, Alessandra leans into me at our small table. “He’s so nice to do this.”
“I know. He’s such a sweetheart.”
“He’s so much nicer than I thought. I can’t believe I thought he was such a jerk.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I can’t wait to show him just how much I’ve grown since my demo, thanks to everything he said to me at the party.”
My stomach twists. “Whatever happens, don’t take his word as gospel, okay? A lot goes into Reed’s decision-making that has nothing to do with talent.”
Alessandra winks. “You don’t have to protect me, Momma Bear. I’m scared to death to perform in front of him, but I’m also excited. Whatever happens, I’ll be okay.”
“Okay, guys,” Reed says onstage. “Let’s let Alessandra do her thing now. Be sure to tip her, okay? I’ll get things started.” He pulls out his wallet and stuffs a wad of bills into Alessandra’s tip jar, and everyone laughs and applauds and marvels at his smoothness. And I can’t help giggling to myself to see my Reed, the man I know and love, morph into Panel Discussion Reed before my eyes. It’s not an act, actually, when Reed turns into this dazzling version of himself. The suave, charming, debonair guy who says all the right things, and elicits chuckles and applause at all the right times. That guy is sincerely him. But what I’ve come to learn is it’s only one facet of him. A facet I love... although, I must admit, I’ve come to love the parts of him that aren’t quite as perfect even more.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Reed says, “I’m going to take a seat with my beautiful girlfriend and enjoy the show.”
Alessandra gapes when Reed calls me his “beautiful girlfriend,” and I blush.
“He’s been calling me his girlfriend every chance he gets during this trip,” I whisper.
“Swoon!” Alessandra whispers back.
A moment later, Reed appears at our table, which prompts Alessandra to head to the stage. With rosy cheeks and a heaving chest, she pulls her acoustic guitar into her lap.
“Hi, I’m Alessandra. Happy birthday, Georgie.” She takes a deepbreath. “This is called ‘Blindsided.’” With that, she takes another deep breath, clears her throat, glances at Reed—which only makes her look like she’s going to barf, so she quickly looks at me, instead—and then, begins to play.
It’s a new song. One I’ve never heard before. And, holy crap, it’s the best damn song Alessandra’s ever written.By far. Not only that, she’s singing it in a way I’ve never heard her sing before. With less vocal acrobatics and more soul. In fact, as I listen to her, goosebumps form on my skin. Tears well in my eyes. She’s magic up there. And anyone who doesn’t see that, including Reed, is just plain dumb.
Speaking of which, I steal a look at Reed. And what I find isn’t his usual poker face. He’s not Business Reed right now. He’s not Discussion Panel Reed. He’smyReed. My lover. My man. The generous, kind, sweetheart I’ve come to know and adore. And, much to my thrill, that man,myReed, is smiling from ear to ear.
87
REED
So far, so good. Although I can’t help feeling like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or, perhaps, a hammer. Onto my head.
I’m at Georgina’s father’s condo, sitting at a small table with Mr. Ricci and Georgina, eating homemade spaghetti Bolognese for Georgina’s birthday dinner. It’s one of the man’s specialties, apparently. Also, one of Georgie’s favorites. Which is why I’ve been shoveling my meal down enthusiastically, even though I rarely eat red meat or simple carbs. But, hey, whatever it takes to get onto this man’s good side. Because, frankly, he hasn’t welcomed me with open arms thus far. Not that I blame him.
When Georgina and I first arrived this evening, and Georgina introduced me as her “boyfriend,” her dad took one look at me and made a face I’d caption as,You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.Which, right away, told me this was going to be an uphill battle. Although, in the man’s defense, I wasn’t particularly thrilled to hear Georgina call me that word, either. The minute Georgina uttered it in her father’s presence, I couldn’t help feeling exactly the way Henn and Josh described it to me the other day, only in reverse.It’s not nearly enough.
