I could understand not being good enough for this. After all, they were professional musicians with a decade-long career behind them. But I couldn’t understand the undeserved anger and animosity this man was projecting toward me for no apparent reason.
I took a step toward him, and whatever he saw in my expression must have startled him, because he took a step back.
“Were you always such a dick, or am I just really good at bringing out that side of you?”
Someone sucked in a loud breath behind me. Abel’s gaze flitted over me, as if unsure of where to land.
“Honestly, I don’t need to listen to this. This is your album. You can record it however and with whomever you like. But if this is how you’re going to interact with people who audition for you, I won’t be surprised if it never gets made.”
I spun on my heel to face the rest of the guys, who were looking at me with a mixture of shock and admiration. “For what it’s worth, I had a great time working together today, but it sounds like I’m not what you’re looking for. Thank you for giving me a shot.”
There. I managed to say that without my voice cracking once, and I was going to leave while I still had my dignity. I crossed the small room in two steps and stormed out the door, even as Cole called out my name, asking me to wait.
I was holding it together, but I didn’t know for how much longer I could keep my disappointment at bay, so I had to get out of there. I wasn’t surprised at how it had turned out. Not really. It was the most likely scenario coming to its painful and expected fruition.
“For God’s sake, Adeline, wait.” A hand gripped my biceps as I was nearing the door to the parking lot. With gentle force, Cole turned me to face him.
“What for?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on his chest. “The audition didn’t work out. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. I’m so sorry about Abel. He’s just…” Cole trailed off, running his other hand through his hair. “Can we talk outside?”
Since that would get me closer to my car and thus closer to getting away from here, I nodded.
“Look, this has nothing to do with you or your playing,” Cole said once the double doors slammed shut behind us. It was early evening, and the sky was a bright-pink hue. I was too upset to appreciate its beauty.
“Damn it, this is my fault,” he said, rocking on his heels.
I shot him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“I should have told you more about what’s going on with the album, but I didn’t think it would be important.”
I waited for him to continue, hating to admit that some part of me was curious to know more.
“Abel doesn’t want to record this album. It’s like he wants to guard these songs for his consumption only, which is selfish as hell, if you ask me. Charlie would’ve wanted people to hear them, and Abel knows that, which is the reason he’s reluctantly agreed to do it. But he’s insisted on producing the record and finding a guitarist himself, and as a result, we’ve gotten nowhere in the past few weeks.”
My forehead grew tense as I processed this new information. “Look, if your singer, songwriter, and producer doesn’t want to do this, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
Cole rubbed at his chin, shaking his head. “If you’d said that to me a week ago, I would have agreed, but then we stumbled on to you. Adeline, he was lying through his teeth back there. You sounded perfect. I was so worried he’d be an asshole to you all day—”
“Which he was,” I interrupted.
“Yes, of course, but it could have been a lot worse.” He cringed. “Sorry, I know how terrible that sounds. I’ve just seen him in all of his moods, and today was far from the worst. When we were rehearsing, I saw his eyes light up. When he forgot that he was supposed to be hating this, he was focused and determined. It reminded me of how he looks when we do well in the studio.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t work with you on this if one of your band members, arguably the most important one in this case, doesn’t want me here.”
Cole shifted his weight between his feet. I felt bad for him now that I knew how hard he was obviously trying to make this album happen. “I know. Can you please just give me some time to talk some sense into him? One more chance before you give up on this?”
I rubbed my eyes, knowing that my mascara would probably smear. I was past caring. “I don’t know.”
“It’s no excuse, but Charlie’s death has done a number on Abel,” Cole said. “Of course, we were all hit hard. We had no idea he had a problem with drugs. But Abel and him were incredibly close, and without Charlie… Well, it’s like Abel lost the one person who’d kept him grounded all these years.”
I stared at the ground. If what Cole was saying was true, then the problem didn’t lie with me. I wasn’t the one fucking up.
A heavy weight slid off my shoulders as I processed everything he’d said. This was Abel dealing with his grief, and I happened to be collateral damage. I thought back to the times I’d done the exact same thing after my parents died, screaming at the people at the funeral parlor, hanging up on my relatives, even giving Molly the cold shoulder at times. If this was what the rest of the guys were dealing with, I wasn’t going to be the one to give them even more shit.
Cole let out a long breath. “Adeline, can you look at me?”
His hand sneaked under my chin, lifting my face to his. I knew I had tears in my eyes by now, and Cole flinched when he saw them.
