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CHAPTER ONE
JETT

The sound of the crowd chanting “Jericho” echoes through my brain. Jer-AH-co! Jer-AH-co! There

was a time in my life where hearing that sound would have been music to my ears, especially hearing it come from the other side of these concrete walls. 

Not anymore though.

Tonight, their chants are just one more reminder that the life I’m living no longer belongs to me. I gave up my right to make my own decisions years ago. The day I gave my signature and my entire brand to The Machine. 

I let out a long exhale as I count silently in my head, trying to shake the negative energy out. It doesn’t take long before my brain snaps and I just go into a series of shadow boxing punches, which is my pre-show ritual to get my adrenaline pumping and the blood flowing. It’s the key to making sure I’m at one-hundred percent when I’m on stage. There’s no room for less than one-hundred percent when you’re on The Machine’s roster. I show up on stage as the person they believe I am and collect a paycheck. It doesn’t matter if that person really exists or not. 

The worst part? 

I do it. 

Not just tonight, either. 

I do it every single night, but I don’t do it for myself. 

I do it for everyone else, including—

“Daddy,” Tatum asks me from where she is sitting on the floor playing one of her favorite games on her tablet.

“What’s up, princess?” I stop in mid-air punch form to turn around and look at my little girl. She’s my biggest reason for pushing myself, to give her the best life I possibly can. She deserves it. I might hate the pressure sometimes, but it has allowed me to provide her with everything she could ever want.

She glances up from her device with a long face that looks like someone took the wind right out of her sails.

“What’s wrong?” I ask again, dropping to a knee beside her so I can look at her eye-to-eye.

“I hate it here,” she admits with a long heavy sigh.

“You don’t like… the venue?” I ask, glancing around. It’s much less formal than the legendary venue we played a few nights ago, but it has a long musical history. “It could use some finesse,” I admit.

“No, Daddy.” She shrugs her delicate shoulders and hangs her head until her chin nearly touches her chest. “I don’t like being stuck in buses and dressing rooms all the time.”

“Oh.” My heart breaks from the weight of her words. 

“It’s so boring,” she groans. “Can we go home after the tour? At least for a little while?” Her eyes flicker with a glimmer of hope.

Home?

We closed on the house over four years ago and still haven’t fully unpacked. In fact, we haven’t spent three consecutive nights anywhere in longer than I can remember. “You want to go back to New York?”

She shakes her head. “I want to go see Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Oh,” I say, again slowly nodding my agreement to her request, which seems to relieve some of the worry from her face.

She goes back to playing her game as I try to remember what their new home even looks like when I realize that I can’t because I’ve never seen it. That realization makes my chest clench as a gross sticky feeling of regret creeps its way through my veins. 

How could I have ever thought Tatum would be happy with this life? I internally scream at myself. Of course, she’s bored. She’s stuck doing absolutely nothing while I’m being dressed, groomed, and prepped to go on stage to put on a show for the people. I don’t even like this life. How could I have overlooked the way that it must make her feel. It’s all fake, which means it takes a really long time for me to go from Jetson Colson to Jett Jericho before I take my mark on stage.

A sudden clearing of someone’s throat pulls me out of my thoughts of chastising myself for forgetting everything that really matters and brings me back into the present moment. Zak, the head of security and my personal bodyguard is standing in the doorway as he rocks back and forth on his heels, while keeping his eyes focused on the corridors. He’s good at what he does. “Always on the job, aren’t you Zak?” I ask, going back to my pre-show routine and throwing another punch into the air as I try to figure out how I’m going to keep my promise to Tatum when the label has me on such a short leash.

He nods, keeping his eyes on the people moving back and forth through our space in the backstage area. Half of the opening act’s crew is hustling to get everyone ushered into their meet and greet positions while the other half of their crew is breaking down their equipment and packing it away to prepare it for loading onto their bus. Meanwhile, our crew is hustling to make sure everything is ready for when we take the stage. There are a lot of moving parts to make each show happen and behind each one of those moving parts is a human being who makes it happen. That is one thing I try to never forget, even if The Machine forgot about the humans behind the scenes a long time ago.

“Are you at least winning?” an all too familiar voice heckles me from the makeshift entrance to the backstage area. 

I hate that guy’s voice on a normal day, but right now it is enough to make me want to go from shadow boxing to boxing him in the nose. “Curtis,” I sigh as I acknowledge the only face of the label I’ve known since my last talent manager left, deciding to go out on his own. I still see Nigel occasionally, but not nearly as often now that he works for himself. He followed the Wright brothers in telling The Machine exactly where they could stick their contracts and their demands.

Zak must have felt the shift of energy in the room because he’s got one palm up, pushing against Curtis’s chest to keep him from coming any closer to me. “What do you want, Curtis?” he asks, refusing to let him through the entry. “Jett has a show to get ready for.” 

I chuckle at the backhanded reminder, as if Curtis isn’t already fully aware of the sold-out crowd. “They’re growing more and more restless with each second that passes,” I add, with a hint of amusement seeping out in my tone.

Curtis lets out a deep belly laugh, but it’s not one that carries any goodwill with it. It’s the condescending type of laugh that serves one purpose and one purpose only, to remind the other person of their ranking in the system. “Jett, you know as well as I do, you’re already off your mark by ten minutes. If you don’t get out there, then you will force the label’s hand. We both know you don’t want to do that.”

“Breaking out the threats a little early tonight, aren’t we?” I ask without an ounce of humor in my voice. 

The lines in Curtis’s forehead deepen as he scowls at me from across the green room. I’m not going to lie. I enjoy watching him squirm. He must be thinking about the pressure his bosses will throw at him if he loses control of the talent he’s been assigned to—me. 

“Come on, Curtis. Relax,” I say, bending down to plant a soft kiss on my daughter’s forehead. 

She doesn’t bother to look up, but wraps one arm around my neck in a hug. “Have a good show, Daddy.”

I nod quickly at Zak as a signal that I’m ready. He responds by waving in two members of his team who I have also come to consider friends. “Hey Brent,” I say, shaking his hand. “Dallas,” I say, putting him on the back. As head of Jericho’s security, Zak’s assigned both of them to my daughter because they are two of his best. Their being here lets me know she’s safe, while I’m on stage. On most nights, the knowledge they’re with her and protecting her makes it easier for me to do my job. Knowing they are staying with her and will keep a slightly overprotective and watchful eye on anyone who gets close to her just isn’t enough tonight though.

Everything about tonight feels off. Why should this be any different? I think to myself with a roll of my eyes. I do my best to shake off the negative thoughts, so I can do my job and get this night over with. Maybe then I can figure out exactly how I’m going to keep my promise to Tatum to take her… home.

Home, a completely foreign concept.

It only takes me two long strides to close the distance between where I stood and the doorway where Curtis is attempting to block my exit. “You might want to let me through, unless you want to explain to your bosses that you are the entire reason I was late to the stage,” I say, knowing that I was already late before he showed up but his bosses don’t know that… yet. He crosses his arms as if he’s going to challenge me right there with everyone watching, including my daughter. 

He would be an idiot if he did. 

Zak reaches out with one hand, pushing him back. His quick thinking gives me just enough room to make my way past Curtis, while keeping the situation from escalating any more than it already has. He might be my security guard, but he’s also my friend. Zak matches my pace as I jog through the corridor toward the stage entrance. I can’t help but laugh under my breath when I see Curtis, attempting to keep pace with us in his three-piece suit. I’ll give him points for the effort, but he’s lagging several paces behind us, which I’m not upset about. The further away from me he stays, the better.

Pfft.

“Just remember, Jett, the label doesn’t take kindly to the talent attempting to test their luck,” Curtis quips from a couple of paces behind us.

I stop short and turn on my heel to face him. “Do you always have to get the last word?”

He smirks and nods to something behind me. “The Machine doesn’t just own you. It owns them too.”

I turn to see what he’s directing my attention to though I could already guess. It’s no surprise when I see the band waiting for me to give them the signal to take their marks on stage.  That might have been the final straw. Honestly, I’m not sure when it all got to be too much but I am certain that his bringing them into it didn’t help matters. A loud groan escapes my lips before I can even register that it’s happening as I close the distance between us. Zak responds by signaling for two of his men to join us who had been stationed on either side of the stairs leading up to the stage. “Don’t worry, Zak. I won’t hurt him, especially not with my daughter just on the other side of that wall.” That doesn’t mean I won’t knock his ego down a peg or two. “Don’t forget,” I say, sticking my finger directly in Curtis’ face. “I’m the biggest draw you or your stupid label have, since you blew it with Amaryllis. Don’t push me.”

He huffs out a disgusted sigh as he turns on his heel to leave. 

Maybe he finally realized he overstayed his welcome, I tell myself. As I reach out to grab my guitar from the station where my tech has dutifully prepared each one for tonight’s show. The sound of Curtis chuckling condescendingly from the end of the corridor makes me stop with my hand still in mid-air, reaching for the Les Paul I open every show with. “If you’ve got something to say, Curtis, you better say it while you still can.” The space between my eyebrows pulls tight as the muscles in my neck tense. 

“Remember when they found you?” he asks, raising one eyebrow and glaring a hole straight through me. “You were playing dive bars and begging for customers to drop coins into your tip jar. The Machine gave you this life. They can take it away just as quickly.”

Ha! He thought the reminder of those simpler times would shake me back into submission. If he only knew how much I preferred that life over this one. “Is that a promise?” I yell back through the chaotic sounds of equipment powering up and feet shuffling along the concrete floor. The crowd’s chants echo louder and louder between my ears, until it turns into a constant pounding noise inside my skull. Jer-AH-co! Jer-AH-co! I wait until Curtis is out of earshot before turning to my tech and shaking my head. “I’ve never said this in my entire career, but I don’t think I can do it tonight.” I scoff at my inability to shake the intrusive thoughts as I turn around to find my bandmates all staring at me with confused glances being tossed back and forth between them. They’ve supported me all the way through this. 

How can I just…? 

They aren’t just my band, they’re my friends, too. 

The guilt weighs heavily in the center of my chest as I look each one of them in the eye, knowing what I’m about to do next could change everything for all of them. “I’m sorry, guys.” I let my apology hang in the air without explanation. They’ll figure it out soon enough.

Jude is the first one to speak up as he slings his guitar around his neck. “Don’t worry about him, Man. That guy and the label are trash.”

Dayton, our drummer, nods his head in agreement as he flips his drumsticks between his fingers. “Garbage.”

Phoenix checks the tuning on his bass as he looks up and rolls his eyes. “No one said this life would be easy. We just do what we have to do.”

“We do what we have to do,” I echo under my breath.

“Huh?” Zak asks, leaning in closer to hear me over the noise of the crowd. “What was that?”

I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say, waving my hand in the air. The sight of my seven year old daughter peeking around the doorway of my dressing room shakes me out of the fog of my own thoughts. She looks miserable, knowing she’s just waiting for me to finish the show so we can get back on the bus. “This is no life for a child.”

“That’s a fair statement,” Zak agrees.

I hadn’t realized I had said it out loud, but it’s the truth. Living on a bus, never settling in anywhere because the label won’t let us stop long enough to plant any roots anywhere. It’s not the life I want for her. “Guys…”

They seem to have already picked up the cues and know what’s coming next, maybe even before I let myself accept what I’m about to say. “I need a break.”

“Don’t worry, Jett.” Zak motions for me to follow him as he takes off back through the winding corridors of the backstage area. “If that’s your decision, then we need to get you and Tatum out of here before Curtis comes back,” he calls out over his shoulder.

Right. “What will you tell them?” I ask, following along as he leads me back through the corridor toward my dressing room.

He shrugs. “A rabid fan hopped the gates and I was too busy protecting the label’s assets while you bolted through the fire exit.”

I bend down to scoop my daughter into my arms and snag her coat off the hook attached to the wall by the door. Her dark eyes sparkle with confusion and glee as she realizes we’re leaving. “I’ll explain everything later, but first we need to just get out of here.” She nods and doesn’t ask questions. We can have that conversation once we’ve made it past all the checkpoints. Until then, I need to keep my head down, my mouth shut and just get us off the label’s territory. “I’m sorry,” I shake my head. “Did you say the fire exit?”

Zak nods and glances to Brent and Dallas, signaling them to stand down as he taps his earpiece to radio another one of his team members. “Cut the fire alarm for thirty seconds.” He reaches out to shake my hand. “That’s all the time I can give you, but at least the alarm won’t go off while you duck out. Be careful when you go through the bus camp. Keep your head down.” In one movement, he tugs his black ball cap off and plops it on my head. “Here,” he says with a grimace. “It has the company logo on it, but there are at least a hundred of these caps bouncing around the venue tonight, so it might help you blend in,” he adds as he holds the door open for us.

“Thank you, Zak.” I grab his shoulder and squeeze, letting him know I appreciate the gesture. He’s become as close as a brother to me over the years. As I turn around to push through the door he’s holding open for us, he taps his watch to remind me that my window of opportunity is almost up. I keep my head down to avoid being recognized by the cameras as I duck out through the door. 

Maneuvering through the bus camp is proving more difficult than I expected. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I thought about what to expect or even thought this out at all. I just knew this is what I needed to do and made the jump. That’s how I’ve always done things, so this freefall into potential disaster isn’t any different. 

Tatum flips the hood of her coat, which looks like a reindeer, over her head and tucks her face into my shoulder. 

“Smart move, princess,” I say, keeping my voice low enough to avoid drawing any attention to us. The last thing we need is someone catching us before we can get through the gates. 

“I figured you didn’t want the drivers seeing me. You might want to pull that hat down over your face a little bit. Jett Jericho isn’t hard to recognize,” she teases with a giggle.

She’s right. I tug the bill of my cap down and tuck my chin to my chest. The mechanics are all out, but luckily most of them have their heads shoved underneath the hoods of the buses giving them a check-up before we… I mean, before they hit the road again. “If we can just make it past the gate, we’ll be home free,” I whisper to Tatum. I’m not sure who I’m trying to reassure, her or myself. 

They were all busy enough with their routines that they never even noticed us crossing the lot. The guards on the other hand seem to be on high alert for something, or someone. I grab my sunglasses from my back pocket, which I usually only wear as I walk on stage for part of the act but now seems like a good time to throw them on. The guard at the gate gets a call over his earpiece giving me an opportunity to slide my badge through the gate’s access scanner. I make a mental note to tell Zak thank you for the distraction, since I know it’s probably him on the other end of that earpiece. The lock clicks as the light turns from red to green. I don’t wait for the guard to return with his twenty questions. He seems fully distracted and satisfied that my credentials were good enough for the lock  as he waves me through and his focus shifts to the fence on the opposite side of the lot where the fans are gathering, trying to sneak a peek at the musicians, myself included. The gate closes behind us with a final click of the lock falling back into place. The sound is almost freeing as it hits my ears. “We did it,” I tell Tatum, lifting her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

“How are we going to do that?” she asks from atop my shoulders. “You don’t have a car here, Dad.”

Hmm. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” she admits as her stomach lets out a little growl.

“Let’s go get a burger and fries while I figure out a plan.”

“And a milkshake?” she asks.

I let out a deep belly laugh. “You got it.”

“Where can we go so that they won’t recognize us?” she asks with worry, lacing her tone. It’s a fair question, since my face has been plastered all over the local media since The Machine announced this gig. “I don’t know,” I admit, shaking my head. “There has to be somewhere in this town where they don’t listen to popular music, right?”

She laughs from her perch on my shoulders. “I hate to break it to you, Dad. You aren’t that popular.”

I gasp and clutch one hand to my chest while the other hand holds on to her leg to keep her from falling off my shoulders. “How could you say that to me?”

“I call it like I see it,” she giggles.

“Fine, we’ll find somewhere they don’t listen to my type of music and I’ll call for a ride while we wait for our food.”

“So, they’ll be there when we’re done?”

“Exactly.” Then we can get out of town and out of The Machine’s clutches, at least for a little while.

CHAPTER TWO
DELILAH

Delilah Woodward, we regret to inform you that your school was not selected to move forward in the grant application process. 

Good luck in your search. 

The school is in major trouble, its funding runs out at the end of the month. The state is threatening to shut it down and reassign our kids to other locations in the district, instead of actually fixing the issues that caused the funding problems in the first place. My stack of bills has turned into a leaning tower of past-due and cut-off notices at this point because of all the pay cuts. The stack seems to grow with every rejection that hits my inbox. I huff and throw myself against the wooden back of my chair, which causes a few of my dark brown tendrils to flutter and tickle my nose. “Ah-choo!” The sound of my sneeze makes a few of my kids in class giggle as they glance up from their assignment. I grab my hair and wrestle it back into a top knot piled on top of my head in all its glory and with my eyes still stinging. I rest my head against the pale blue wall of my classroom and fight the tears prickling the corners of my eyes. I really want to be optimistic about the life my son and I are building here in Crossroads, but life just seems to be throwing us one punch and then another.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes—water surrounds me. I can’t swim. I always meant to learn how, but never did. My chest tightens as a rising tide crashes over me. I feel every bit of my fear and anxiety washing over the top of me as I bob up and down in the murky water. I remember what Ally taught me back in college, so I slowly let out the breath I feel caught in my lungs. It’s just enough to relax my body and allow me to feel a hint of relief. I watch myself pop out of the water to take that first deep, satisfying breath. I rest my hand over my chest and focus on what I know for sure. I’m still breathing. I’m alive. My son is safe. There are more grant programs I can apply for. I just have to keep going.

“You okay?” a familiar voice calls out and brings me back to reality. Well, this is embarrassing. Ally is standing in front of the massive stack of papers, from my research on grants we might qualify for, with her head cocked to the side. She slides her glasses back to push her auburn curls out of her face and raises an eyebrow at me.

“I was just trying some of those visualizations you taught me back in college.” I roll my eyes and wave my hand over the papers stacked on the corner of the desk. “Getting a little stressed here.”

“Still searching for grant options?” she asks, looking at me with as much skepticism as Tommy Dryer had in his eyes when I told him that Elemenopee isn’t actually a word but just five letters of the alphabet.

I nod in response to her question, flicking my hand towards the computer screen where the rejection letter is still pulled up.

“Ouch,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s okay,” I lie while not knowing if I’m trying to convince her or myself. “At least the nice-but-seriously-overworked lady from the unemployment office finally sent me the instructions and checklist of information I will need to file an application for unemployment.” I do my best to keep my voice low so the kids won’t overhear. I don’t want them to worry until we know what’s actually going to happen with the school’s funding.

Her face morphs into a look of pity and it makes my stomach fall to the floor. I never wanted to see that look on someone’s face when they looked at me again. There were far too many of those looks coming my way when my husband passed away. “Do you really think it’ll come to that,” she asks.

“With the way things are going here, I’m guessing I’ll need it before much longer,” I admit.

“Well, if it goes that direction then I guess I’ll be in the application line right behind you.”

I scoff and shake my head. “Somehow I think it might be easier for you to find another job with your background and degree in psychology, miss counselor.”

“Don’t worry, Lilah.” Ally nudges me on the shoulder after calling me the nickname she’s used for me since we met in college. “You and Levi are going to be just fine.”

“Thanks,” I want to believe her, but something inside tells me this might be more difficult than just trusting the process. The school bell rings out through the speakers overhead, breaking me out of the cycle of my swirling doubts. Children’s voices echo and fill the room. “Be safe and remember to finish your project this week so you’re homework free for the holiday break,” I call out over the sound of their sneakers screeching as they scuff across the floor.

“Do you think any of them heard you?” she asks with her back against the wall, watching as the last few kids scramble through the door to catch up with the rest of the class.

I shrug and shake my head. “Doesn’t matter,” I admit. “If things don’t turn around with funding then we won’t be coming back here after the holiday anyway. They’ll have to acclimate to a new school for the new year.” My heart sinks.

She slaps her hands against her legs as she pushes herself away from the wall. “I know what you need.”

“What’s that?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Christmas decorations.”

“Ally,” I groan through a stifled laugh. “I’m not sure decorations will help the mood I’m in.”

“Nonsense,” she says, tapping the button on my computer to turn it off.

“Hey!”

“No. You’re done sulking. Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me to the door. “I need to get some decorations for the house and I can’t think of anyone better to help me than you.”

“Levi’s class lets out in fifteen minutes. If you can wait then we’ll go with you.”

“Deal. I need to run home and check the slow cooker. I’ll meet you at your house in thirty?”

“Okay. See you then.” I might’ve agreed to go but that’s because she’s my best friend not because I think looking at pudgy men with beards and in red suits will actually help me feel any better. 

With the room empty and time to burn until my son is ready to go home I tap the button on my phone to play my favorite streaming music station. “Hello, Crossroads. This is Mike the Spike but since we’re in the heart of the holidays it’s Merry Mike to you. We’re celebrating the holidays with a musical advent calendar, starting now! That means everyday between now and Christmas, we’ll bring you fresh new music from your favorite artists. Best of all, they’ll all be festive holiday themes. Today’s song is a fresh cover of one of our Christmas favorites by one of your favorite artists played here on KCRM, O Holy Night being covered by Jett Jericho. You’re all going to love this one.”

More Christmas cheer. Great.

Levi’s in the backseat singing along to the carols coming through the speakers of Ally’s car as she drives us back into town on our hunt for her Christmas decorations as I rest my head against the cool glass of the passenger side window. “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asks, breaking away from singing along with the radio.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” I try to convince myself that it’s the truth just as much as I’m hoping he believes me. “Just thinking about work.”

“You’re trying to figure out a way to save the world, aren’t you?” Ally asks, keeping her eyes on the road ahead but she must’ve snuck a glance at me to know I was stressing myself out again.

“Just the school,” I admit with a heavy sigh that fogs up a small patch of the window.

“You know,” Levi speaks up from the backseat, interrupting his adorable rendition of Jingle Bells, “If you want to raise money for the school, you could just do a fundraiser instead of applying for all those grants where they’re just going to pick bigger schools with more kids in them.”

I love his heart for wanting to help so much. “That’s a really good idea,” I say, turning around so he can see that I’m sincere. “I just don’t think a fundraiser would cover the amount we need, honey.”

“If we had enough stuff to sell then it would though, right?”

“I mean…” I shrug and rub my temple with my index finger. “I suppose so. It’s just a matter of finding enough stuff and big enough stuff to sell that it would add up to enough. This is a small town.” Population four-thousand-seventy-six, to be exact. “There’s just not enough money floating around in these people’s pockets to fund the school for another year. We need outside help, which is why I’ve been going for the grants.”

“It’s not actually a bad idea,” Ally says, glancing at me quickly from the side of her eye.

I scoff and drag both hands behind my neck hoping it’ll release some of the tension I can feel building there. “What would we sell that could raise that kind of money, Ally. We can’t just have a bake sale and make all the school’s financial issues disappear.”

She shrugs and shakes her head. “I don’t know, but it’s somewhere to start.” Her finger reaches up to tap a button on her dashboard. “Search, what are the top three choices for school fundraisers that raise the largest amounts of money.”

A computerized beep-boop sounds comes through the speakers as it searches for the result. “From my research,” a feminine computer generated voice responds, “it appears the top three types of profitable school fundraisers are auctions, bake sales…”

I groan and roll my eyes.

“Shh,” Ally hisses at me playfully.

“And talent shows,” the computerized voice adds. “Let me know if I can help with anything else.” A quick beep sounds letting us know the response is over.

“I don’t think a bake sale is going to cut it,” I say, leaning my head back against the gray leather headrest.

She tilts her head and purses her lips together like she’s actually considering it. “I’m pretty sure your peppermint fudge could save the world. Or… at least the school.”

I let out a laugh. “I’ll file that one away for later use. But can we try to figure out something that might actually work, in the meantime?”

“I’m serious,” she says with her tone changing as she sits up straighter in her seat.

“About a… bake sale?”

“No,” she scoffs, shaking her head quickly. “I mean, kind of. I think I have an idea.”

“Are you going to tell me what this idea is?” I ask, glancing out the windshield and suddenly realizing we’ve passed every craft store in town and are still going. “Does your idea have anything to do with where we are headed right now? Because all the Christmas decorations are back that way,” I add, pointing over my shoulder toward town which is solidly in the rearview mirror at this point.

“Kind of, but not exactly.”

Great. “Where are we going, Ally?”

“So… I might have forgotten to tell you something.”

Ugh. “Ally, what’s going on?” I say it slower this time like somehow that’s going to convince her to tell me what’s going on. I’ve known her long enough to know that’s not how this is going to go.

“Nothing’s going on, really. It’s more just an idea of an idea that’s percolating in my brain right now. Like… vibes of an idea.”

“Vibes?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Vibes doesn’t tell me where we’re going, Ally.”

“Right.” She clears her throat. “My mom called and asked me to pick up my brother at the airport.”

“Your brother?” I say, sucking in a deep breath and glancing out the window again.

“Yeah. My parents were going to pick him up.” She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “B she decided she wanted to make him his favorite meal to welcome him home, so she had to stay home to keep an eye on the food.”

“The same brother who hasn’t come to visit since your parents moved to Crossroads because he’s been too busy touring with his big hotshot music act?”

She winces and nods slightly. “That’s the one.”

“Great.” I crack my neck and sigh. “But I want some good holiday shopping after this. I have a feeling I’m going to need it if his ego is half as big as you say it is.”

“Deal,” she says, laughing. “And trust me, it is that bad.”

Meeting a celebrity wasn’t on my list of things to do today, but she’s been my best friend for years so if she needs to go pick up her brother then I’ll go along for the ride.

CHAPTER THREE
JETT

Thankfully Chad, our Uber driver, had an affinity for heavy metal music, so we didn’t have to listen to the news playing on the local country or pop stations about the missing performer or have any awkward conversations about how much I look like that guy from Jericho during the drive to the airport. I paid for the service and the plane ticket using a pseudonym I haven’t used since before I was a household name.

As soon as we step off the plane and into the arrivals area of the Denver International Airport the sound of my holiday cover song plays overhead and I duck my head just a little bit lower. Luckily, I’ve been blessed with what I would call a pretty average appearance. I can blend in with the locals wherever we are, but when they’re playing my song over the main speakers that makes it a whole lot more difficult since it’s already on everyone’s mind. My sister’s tall slender frame comes into view as I glance up from underneath the bill of the I Love New York ball cap I bought before getting on the plane. The one with the security team’s logo on it was a bit conspicuous when trying to hide in plain sight. Her shoulders were straight, a sign of just how annoyed with me she still is.

She is wearing a freshly pressed pair of slacks with a pink collared shirt, standing in the waiting area as we make our way through the small crowd streaming through the gate. Her delicate features soften slightly as we walk towards her and her face fully lights up with a wide and toothy grin when she sees Tatum who is still half asleep in my arms peeking out through her reindeer hoodie. “You look good, sis,” I say, giving her a hug with one arm as Tatum clings to my neck in the other.

“Five years, Jett?” her arms fold over her chest and the look she gives me makes it feel like the air has all been sucked from my lungs.

My chest tightens and the sound of my heart pounding sounds off between my ears. “Has it really been that long?”

She rolls her eyes and laughs skeptically. “You haven’t even seen Mom and Dad’s new place, have you?”

That nagging twinge of guilt returns making my shoulders slump forward. “I realized that on the way here,” I admit. “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”

A chorus of whispers seems to be coming from behind me and I instinctively glance over my shoulder, prepared to see a gaggle of reporters or fans with cameras ready to capture our family reunion. Nothing. Just a couple embracing in the next aisle over. I exhale with relief before turning back to my sister. “It’s good to see you, Ally” I said with what felt like something lodged in my throat.

She steps back and studies me carefully. “I guess we need to get you to baggage claim, huh?” Her eyebrows pinch together as if she’s trying to decide if this was really all I had brought with us.

I shake my head. “No need.”

“Seriously?”

“This is it,” I admit, appreciative of how we could so easily slip into our old roles, even after five long years apart. The smile on his face started to fade before he seemed to catch herself. I hadn’t planned on coming home for the holidays, so there wasn’t much to grab from the green room before we skipped town. The guilt struck me again, harder this time.

“We better get going,” she says, glancing down at the time displayed on her phone’s screen. “Mom and Dad are beside themselves waiting to see you, and you too,” she adds, reaching out to squeeze Tatum’s shoulder gently. 

Before I could say a word, a flash of movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. A woman with long red hair was slithering up beside us. I might have been flattered if I didn’t already know why she was there. “Sorry to interrupt,” she stammered with more than a hint of excitement in her voice. “But are you…”

“My brother,” Ally interrupts from where she’s standing with her arms crossed back over her chest. “We’re just having a little family reunion this weekend, Sherry.”

“Oh,” she says with her face falling and looking completely deflated. “I could’ve sworn you were Jett Jericho from over there,” she adds, flicking her thumb over her shoulder to where she’d been standing before bolting across the airport to get a glimpse of the music star. I hate this part of the fame.

“I get that a lot,” I chuckle, adjusting the strap of my carryon luggage as it tries to slip down the shoulder opposite of where Tatum is snoring in my ear. She’s learned to sleep through a lot of noise while being on the road all the time. I’m not surprised she’s able to sleep through the sounds of the airport. “Ready to go, sis?” I say, giving Ally a nudge in the arm with my elbow so we can get out of here before Sherry calls my sister’s bluff and blows my cover.

“Sure, brother,” she quips, keeping her eyes on Sherry as she turns on her heel to lead the way to the car. 

“Don’t we need to go to the lot?” I ask, pointing toward the door labeled Exit to Airport Parking Lot 1.

She shakes her head and keeps walking toward the main entrance for drop offs and pickups. “I’ve got the car waiting out front.”

I glance at the sign overhead that reads Arrival pick-up. All unattended vehicles will be towed. “Who stayed with the car?” I ask, suddenly feeling like she’s hiding something.

“Oh,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at me as I pick up my pace to match her hurried steps. “I had a friend come with me. They’re waiting in the car.”

“A friend,” I say, falling back into my role as her younger brother all too easily. “Is this a wedding bells kind of friend or a late night and bad decisions type of friend.”

“I guess we’ll see,” she says with a shrug and smirk as she turns her attention to the rotating door.

I follow along behind her still chuckling imagining what type of guy my sister brought with her to pick me up. She must’ve not been planning on coming to the airport because she’s not usually the type to introduce me to someone unless they’re serious. But then again… it’s been years since I’ve been home. I don’t really know what she’s like or who she’d want to introduce me to anymore. “Which one’s yours?” I ask, embarrassed that I don’t already know the answer to that question.

She nods toward a white SUV at the end of the row of cars in line at this pick-up bay. There’s a silhouette of a small framed someone sitting in the front seat, but I can’t make out any characteristics yet.

“That one?” I ask, skeptically.

“Yep,” she says with amusement returning to her voice. “That’s the one.”

As we make our way up the walkway toward the SUV, I realize it’s definitely not a guy waiting in the car. My sister hadn’t brought her new boyfriend with her to pick us up. She brought a stunning brunette with dark eyes and full rosy lips. My heart skipped in my chest. The woman nudges her door open, but my sister reaches out and slams it back shut then motions for her friend to lower the window. “You’re fine where you are,” she says once the window is down. “He’ll get in the back,” she adds, glancing at me with a warning in her eyes.

“It’s really fine, Ally,” her friend protests from the front seat.

“Don’t worry about it, ma’am,” I say, dipping my head with the manners my daddy taught me. “We’ll ride back here,” I add, grabbing the handle and swinging the rear door open. A young boy about the same age as Tatum is sitting on the opposite side of the gray leather bench seat giving us a big toothy grin as I ease my daughter onto the seat. “Scoot over, princess.”

“You’re Jett Jericho!” the boy says, pointing at me with his mouth hanging open.

“Levi!” the woman in the front seat nearly screeches, so I’m assuming she’s his mother.

I give him a quick nod as I slide into the backseat next to Tatum. “You’re right. I am.”

“I’m Levi,” he says, sticking out his hand.

I take it with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Levi.”

“And I’m Delilah,” the woman in the front seat says, leaning around her seat to look at me. “Sorry about that.”

Her eyes lock me in place as all of the oxygen is sucked out of my lungs. “Don’t… Don’t worry about it,” I stammer. That’s weird. It’s not like me to lose my words or feel my tongue sticking to the back of my throat like that.

My sister slides into the driver’s seat and takes the wheel. As we make our way out of the airport parking lot a sinking feeling takes over my body. It was one thing to realize how long I’ve been away from my family. It was another to realize I hadn’t even seen my parents home. And it was something else entirely to realize those were only a few of the changes I’d missed out on. I’m not sure why I expected otherwise. After all, I’m not the same person I had been when I left home either. The day Nigel, my first manager, had signed me to the label my entire life changed. At the time I had no idea that day was going to be all that different from any of the others. I’m still grateful to Nigel and his team who worked to help me see my dreams become a reality, but he left and I haven’t been happy with the label in a really long time.

They were the main reason I hadn’t been home in years.

If I wasn’t due on stage then I was either in the studio or making small talk with the press to promote the tour and the music. Even with the tours, millions of fans and my very healthy bank account, I can’t remember the last time I was happy. Tatum apparently isn’t either. I suck in a deep breath and the sound seems to fade behind the Christmas songs coming through the speakers. Levi is humming along from his side of the bench seat but he isn’t singing along and I have a feeling it’s because he’s nervous. Tatum wipes the sleep away from her eyes and she glances around. “Are we almost to Grandma’s house?”

I nod. “Almost.”

“About an hour to go, kiddo,” my sister says from behind the wheel in the front seat.

“Remember this song, sis?” I ask, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. I nod towards Levi who is still humming.

She smiles and nods in response to my unasked question. “Do you mean the fact that we’d sing it every time it came on or it was the one song you could never sing on key?”

“Both,” I admit with a half-hearted chuckle. “I might’ve gotten better at that since last time though.”

She sticks her tongue out at me in the rearview. “You’ve had enough time to master it.” 

I know she’s just teasing, but my heart instantly feels heavy in my chest.

“This was always my favorite Christmas song,” Delilah adds with a slight smile on her lips. “Good tidings we bring to you and your kin.” Her voice is beautiful. Soft and light. Completely opposite of the voices I’m used to hearing everyday in the business.

“We wish you a merry Christmas,” Ally adds, leaning over the armrest to playfully harmonize with her friend.

I suck in a deep breath and adjust to match their tone and pitch. “… and a happy new year.” I wonder if Ally noticed how much better I am at this song now.

“Oh, bring us some figgy pudding,” Tatum and Levi sing together in unison. I can’t help but smile at the sound of their little voices harmonizing. It’s a reminder of when things weren’t so complicated and life was… easier.

After the song is over Ally glances back at me and smiles. “I guess you did get better at it, little brother.”

I make a restrained fist pump in the air. “Yes!” None of us seem to know quite what to say after that. There are so many words lingering unspoken between me and my sister but it’s not the time or the place with other company in the SUV with us, so we continue the drive in silence. My nerves grow with every mile closer to my parent’s home. Ally reaches out and turns up the volume of the radio with his lips curled into a mischievous smile. I recognize the song immediately and feel heat rising in my cheeks. “It never ceases to surprise me,” she laughs as my voice comes through the speakers and fills the vehicle. A groan escapes me as I sink a little farther down in my seat.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she says, cackling. “It’s not every day you get to drive your little brother around and hear him on the radio at the same time.”

I attempt to pair my phone with the vehicle as we turn onto the road the GPS system says will lead us right into town. Could not connect, flashes on my phone’s screen. “Oh, come on!” I groan, loudly.

“What’s wrong, little brother?” Ally asks from the front seat, biting her lip as she apparently tries not to laugh. “Can’t change the song from back there?”

Ugh! “If you’d just use the same passwords you used when we were kids that would help.”

“Ew.” She cringes. “Can you even remember what we used to use as passwords?”

Delilah laughs from the front seat. “Mine was unicorns-are-cool. All one word of course.”

“Nothing screams regret like first passwords, huh?” Ally laughs.

“Except maybe first email addresses,” I add.

“Oh,” Ally laughs louder. “That’s right.”\

“Don’t do it.”

“You brought it up.”

Sigh. “Fine,” I concede, knowing she’s going to spill it if I don’t. “Nashvilleorbust-at-digitalmail-dot-com at your service.”

“I guess you made it though, huh?” Delilah says with a twinge of a smile from the front seat.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection, rubbing my chin between my thumb and index finger as I study the face looking back at me. It’s definitely scruffier than usual, since I hadn’t had time for a shave or a haircut before my flight home. The ball cap with New York slogan obscures my eyes, but it seems more than a little out of place as I study the contrast between the image of my reflection and the town floating past through the window as we continue our drive home. I did make it, but was it worth it?

We pull up to the house that has been my parents’ home for years now, but instead of being filled with nostalgia, like most adult children when they return home, it’s completely foreign to me. I don’t have any memories of family dinners around the dinner table here. No tales of late night games of Monopoly that lasted until three in the morning. My mom is standing in the wide driveway outside the two-story brick house. Her bright blond hair shimmering under the porch light as she waves excitedly to and rushes down the steps to meet us as I slide myself out of the backseat. 

She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes tight just as my feet find the pavement. “Jett, I’m so glad you’ve finally come home!”

“Hi mama,” I say as she grips me even tighter than before. “No need to squeeze all your hugs into one, there are plenty more where that came from.”

“Boy, there will never be enough hugs for your mama,” she says with a playfulness mixed with sadness in her tone, although her eyes are filled with what I hope are tears of joy.

“I always have hugs for you, mama,” I remind her and pull her closer. She seems smaller than when I left, all those years ago. Almost frail. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back.

Her gaze falls on the necklace around my neck, a gold guitar charm she’d given to me for good luck before the gig that changed my life. “You still have it.” 

“I never take it off,” I admit, hugging her again tightly before letting go.

Delilah’s door slowly pushes open and she attempts to slide out unnoticed. I recognize the look of escape when I see it.

“Oh, Delilah!” Mom grabs her by the hand before she can get away. “I didn’t know you were in there. Those windows are so dark on your car, Ally.”

“Sorry, mama,” Ally says, sheepishly.

Tatums and Levi scoot across the bench seat and hop out of the same door I did.

“Oh my goodness. What a beautiful young lady you’re growing into,” she says reaching out with both arms to scoop Tatum up. “Come on in, everyone,” Mama says as she turns and scrambles up the steps. “I made plenty to go around.” She motions for us to follow.

A quick uncomfortable glance from Delilah and I know she’s trying to figure out how to get out of here without being rude.

“Come on now,” I say, nudging her with my elbow. “Since you’re a friend of Ally’s then I’m sure you know, no one wants to disappoint Mama.”

“And,” Ally adds, giving me some much appreciated backup because I’m not quite sure I’m ready to say goodnight to Delilah just yet, “she doesn’t take no for an answer, so protesting won’t do you any good.”

“I just don’t want to impose,” Delilah says, shifting her weight nervously from one foot to the other. “This is your first night home and you should spend it with your family,” she adds, glancing up at me.

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat to buy myself some time because I’m not quite sure how to explain that I would like her to stay without coming across like a total creep. “You’re Ally’s friend, right?”

She nods.

“Then that’s as good as family as far as I’m concerned.”

“Okay,” she finally agrees with a long sigh. “Thank you.”

“A hot meal is the least we can do for going with me to pick up this knucklehead from the airport,” my sister adds, wedging herself between where me and Delilah are standing. “I would’ve hated making that drive on my own, so boring.” 

Mama pokes her head out through the storm door, sending out a wave of aroma that smells like the first home cooked meal I’ve had in ages. “Are y’all coming, or not?”

The way Ally locks her eyes with mine as she moves past toward the porch steps tells me she knows something I don’t and I make a mental note to find out what that is later, but for right now I only have one thing on my mind. “Is that homemade chicken and dump strings, I smell?”

“Dumpstrings?” Delilah asks as her eyebrows crash together on her forehead.

“Levi’s favorite,” Mama adds with her face lighting up. I’m not sure if her excitement is that I remember or that she did, but either way I’m glad I came home.

Ally laughs and throws her head back. “That’s what Levi always called them. It’s chicken and noodles.”

“Technically,” I add, holding one finger up as I follow my sister and her friend up the steps, “they taste like dumplings but they’re flat like noodles, so strings. Dump-strings.” It’s a strange feeling stepping into the house, somewhere between coming home again and feeling like an outsider being welcomed in as a guest. This will take some getting used to. Freshly baked apple pie wafts through the air mixing with the aroma of dinner already plated and waiting on the dinner table. My stomach growls in response. “I haven’t eaten since before take off,” I explain, taking the seat I assume they left for me with Tatum taking the one next to me. “And I can’t even remember the last time I had a piece of apple pie.”

Delilah sits directly across from me with her son taking the seat on one side and my sister taking the seat on the other side of her. I scan the living room from my seat at the dining table. It wasn’t like what I remembered their old house looking like  changed too. No more sunshine yellow walls with gingham checkered accents. My father’s oversized chair, the one that had the tattered hems and mended cushion definitely isn’t anywhere to be found. Instead, it’s a sleek modern farmhouse with all new furniture. “The house looks great.” And it does, even if it doesn’t feel like the home I had pictured or the one I remember. “It could be Insta-famous.”

My mother’s eyes grow wide as a rose color creeps up her cheeks. “Do you really think so?” she says, covering her mouth with both hands.

My father entered the room shaking his head. “Your mother wants to become a home decor…. Ah, what do you kids call it nowadays?”

“An influencer?” I ask, standing to give him a hug. I couldn’t hide the smile that came from the thought of my mother living her best life being an influencer. “You’d be great at it!”

“Son, it’s about time you came home,” he says, sounding as if he’s getting choked up as he pats my back with one hand.

I swallow hard, forcing the lump in my throat down. “Hi, Dad.”

“I don’t understand the technology,” mom says with a deflated sigh. “But it sure would be fun, wouldn’t it?” She glances at Delilah and Ally with a big smile on her face. 

I make a mental note to download the social media apps to her phone before I leave to go back on the road.

CHAPTER FOUR
DELILAH

The teacher’s lounge is full this morning, I realize as I enter the room, chatter and gossip about the changes we all hope won’t happen echo against the bland white walls. I stick my holiday themed travel mug underneath the coffee pot as I rummage through the remaining coffee pods in the mesh bin, until I find one I like. The machine hums to life as it starts to brew. “Good morning, sunshine,” Ally sing-songs from behind me. “Did you hear?” she whispers.

“I’ve heard a lot,” I admit. “Which part specifically are we talking about?”

“The superintendent’s note,” she hisses into my ear while turning my body toward the corkboard hanging on the opposite side of the room. “Go read it,” she insists, pushing me forward.

“Wait.” I scowl, pushing back against her and reaching for my coffee. My hand grips the handle and pulls it to my mouth. “Coffee first, then drama.”

“That’s fair,” she says with a light-hearted laugh, but her eyes carry a weight in them that’s unusual for her. When I moved to Crossroads, I met Amy in one of my late night spin classes at the local gym, the only one in town. She was just as terrible as I was at it and we’ve been inseparable since. She took me under her wing and even convinced the principal here to give me a chance. I’ve been teaching the kids here ever since.

“Is it that bad?” I ask, taking a long sip of the steaming warm liquid comfort, wondering if all the fear-mongering in the lounge had been right. “Is it official?”

Her face shifts into a blank expression. “He’s threatening to rezone the entire district now. It’s not just our school, anymore. He wants to cut schools in the area by fifty percent.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoff. “How can they just close half the schools in the area? The district doesn’t have the vacant spaces to accommodate all those students. Where will they go?”

She shrugs. “That’s anyone’s guess. It’s like they’re trying to run the entire system into the ground, but I guess that’s politics for us. The two sides can’t stop arguing long enough to realize they’re doing more harm than good to the rest of us, especially our kids.”

“Well,” I blow out a huff of air that makes the stray pieces of hair framing my face dance and wiggle, tickling my nose. “We’re all going to be without a job if we don’t keep them from going any further.” Ally studies my expression for what feels like an eternity. It’s making me a little self-conscious. I wipe away imaginary crumbs from my mouth and check my reflection on the travel mug’s lid to see what she’s so focused on. “What?” I finally ask. “Did I smear my mascara or something?”

“You’re different today,” she says, with a smirk creeping across her face.

“What do you mean?” My voice squeaks on the last word and I feel heat rising up my cheeks from embarrassment as I bring my coffee to my mouth to hide the blush I know must be creeping up my face. “Nothing’s different.”

Her mouth drops open so much that it practically hits the floor as she clutches her chest with both hands. “You’re smitten.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “I absolutely am not.” That’s absurd. “Like I have any time to even think about meeting someone, right now.”

The smirk on her face grows even wider. “You met someone last night though, didn’t you?” She taps her long red polished fingernail against her chin.

“Yeah, your brother.” I shake my head, trying to force away the grin that’s threatening to take over my expression. Why do I feel like I’m going to burst out laughing? This is ridiculous. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” she asks, throwing her arm around my neck. “I don’t think I am. I think you’re doing that thing you always do when you meet someone you like but you refuse to admit you like them.”

“Seriously?” I’m doing my best to sound convincing, but my voice squeaks and it gives me away. “Okay, fine! Your brother is very attractive. I can admit that.”

“Ha!” she cackles.

“But there’s nothing to it.”

“Of course, there isn’t.” She shifts her eyes to the side. “But if there was, what would that something be?”

“You’re impossible.”

“But… you love me.”

“If there was something there, which there isn’t, it still wouldn’t matter.” I throw both arms out to the side as coffee splashes out of the travel mug clutched in my hand. I glare at the red nosed reindeer that now look smug and cocky instead of festive and jolly. They don’t believe me either.

Her nose wrinkles as her expression changes. “Why not?”

“First, because he’s your brother,” I lift one finger. “Second,” I lift another finger, “because he’s famous,” I lower my voice to make sure the rest of the faculty don’t hear us bickering over the superstar hiding in our midst. “And third,” I lift another finger, “he’s going back to wherever he came from after the holidays and then who knows how long it’ll be before he decides to show up again.”

She cackles even louder, drawing everyone’s attention to us. “Sorry,” she holds up both hands and turns her back to them, so she’s facing me and lowers her voice. “You have so little faith in me.”

I do my best not to react, but my eyebrow twitches.

“I’m good at this, remember?” She glances over her shoulder where there are two couples she brought together with her very unsubtle nudges and those are just the ones who are part of the faculty. She’s always matchmaking when she’s not on the clock focusing on helping the kids here at the school. It’s her favorite pastime. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Is that all you care about?” I tease.

She shakes her head. “No, but it doesn’t hurt anything. Does it?”

“It might,” I admit, taking another drink of my coffee to fight back the smile that seems to want to show itself every single time I think about her brother. This isn’t how I thought today was going to go.

“So, you’re telling me that there is absolutely no chance of anything happening between you and my brother?” She puts both hands on her hips. “You expect me to believe that?” Her voice squeaks at the last word.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I expect you to believe.” I nod emphatically. “There is zero chance of anything happening with Jett, or anyone else for that matter. I have way too much on my plate to get distracted right now.”

“You mean the fundraiser?” she asks with a sigh. “How’s that going? Did you come up with anything else last night?”

“Other than a bake sale?” I shake my head and laugh because if I don’t then I might cry. “I’ve got nothing.”

“You know that idea I had last night?”

I nod, taking a sip of my coffee.

“I think we should do a Christmas advent calendar of auction items, each one growing in value until the final day.”

“What would we auction off that could possibly bring enough money to save the school and the district?”

She smirks and throws one hand on her hip. “My brother.”

That might… work.

“We need to set up a social media account. Get some buzz going.”

“Don’t we also need to find what we’re going to auction off leading up to the big win-a-date with the rockstar thing?”

She taps her finger against her chin. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you even talk to your brother about this yet?”

Her hand waves in the air dismissively. “He’ll be fine. I’ll talk to him about it tonight.”

“He has no clue you want to do this yet, does he?”

“Nope.”

“What could go wrong?” I laugh and make my way toward the door. “I’ve got class. Are you stopping by later?”

“Yep.” She nods, excitedly. “You and Levi aren’t going to string all that popcorn without me.”

I knew she’d be planning to come over tonight. It’s always been her favorite part of decorating for the holidays and something tells me that, even though she won’t admit it, she wants a child to share those holiday memories with. I’m always glad to have her share in our traditions with me and Levi. As I’m making my way back to my classroom, I think about her idea. I have to admit, it could work if he goes along with it. But…

I’m guessing that’s going to be a tough sell, so I won’t get my hopes up.

“No way, Ally,” Jett’s voice comes through the speaker of his sister’s phone as it sits on my dining room table, surrounded by popcorn and tinsel. Battle sounds come from the living room as Levi wages war on the galaxy in a multi-player online universe, while I set out the supplies for tonight’s decorating run and Ally tries to convince her brother to help us save the school and the district. “What was that noise?” he asks with a groan in his voice.

“It’s just Levi saving the world,” she says, lazily. I catch the meaning in her words but I don’t blame her brother for not wanting to be sold off like a holiday trinket, even if it would be for a worthy cause. Something like that would be incredibly difficult and I’m not sure I would be able to do it either, not that anyone would want to auction off a date with me.

“Am I on speaker, sis?” the last S in sis pops as he flicks it off his tongue. I chuckle to myself thinking about what their childhood arguments must’ve been like. I can only imagine since Levi is an only child and I never had siblings of my own either.

Ally doesn’t respond, she just rolls her eyes.

“Take me off of speakerphone, Ally.”

She taps the button and holds the phone up to her ear as I excuse myself to go into the living room and give her what little privacy I can while she’s talking to Jett. 

“What’s up, Mom?” Levi asks while tapping wildly on the buttons and triggers of his game controller.

“Nothing.” The last thing I want to do is have him worrying about—

“Is it about the school shutting down?” he asks, without missing a beat he fires on the opponent, which results in a direct hit. 

The game flashes a skill point on the screen and announces, “You have taken the lead,” in a robotic male voice.

He knows so much more and understands so much more than I would have at his age. “Yeah,” I admit, ruffling his hair. “It is.”

He doesn’t let his focus slip from the game, not even for a second, as he shrugs. “I saw the note on the corkboard when I was looking for you before class.”

Ah. “Well, nothing is final yet.”

“But it’s not looking good?” he asks.

I don’t want to lie to him. Trust is hard to earn and even harder to keep. “No, it’s not,” I admit, scrolling through my phone hoping for an idea to jump out at me from the search results. “It’s not looking good at all.” Especially now that selling off a date with an unrealistically handsome country music star is out of the question.

“What are you trying to find?” he asks, peeking over his shoulder as the screen flips to a loading symbol for the next level.

“I’m not really sure.” I shrug. “Just searching for fundraising ideas.”

“Did you find anything good?”

“No,” I snort. “It looks like our options are a bake sale, or a bake sale.” I cringe.

“That was Ally’s idea from the other day, wasn’t it?”

“To be fair,” I say, glancing up from my screen, “it was the top search result.”

He chuckles as he taps to launch his player into the next round. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“I know,” I sigh. “I just don’t know what our other options are. There aren’t very many suggestions that are reasonable, or would be interesting enough for the community to want to take part in.”

“You should try social media,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean?”

He grunts as he grips his controller tighter and aims at the opponent, getting another direct hit. “If you want the community to care, then you have to show them why they should. Social media is the best way to do that.”

Hmm. “I don’t have a social media account. Maybe the school would let us take over theirs for the fundraiser.”

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head. “You can set one up right now. It doesn’t take much to go viral, especially on Tokkers.”

“Tokkers?”

He nods. “Short video. Use trending audio and talk about your cause then boom! You’re viral.”

“Do I want to be viral?” I ask, unsure when viral became a positive thing instead of something you needed to go to the doctor for.

He snickers without moving his eyes from the television screen. “You’re going to need to join the rest of us in the future, Mom. Don’t worry. It’s safe here… mostly.”

“Smarty pants,” I sigh. “I just never liked social media. It feels so… invasive.”

“I know,” he says, still chuckling at me and no doubt wondering how I can be so out of touch with the world. “It’s not that bad, though. You just have to put yourself out there. Most people are good. They’ll want to help.”

“When did you get so grown up?” I ask, marveling at the wisdom he has while still being so young. “You’re an old soul.”

“Don’t call me old,” he groans and whirls around. If he could, I’m certain he would shoot lasers out of his eyes at me.

“That’s not what I mean.” I shake my head and hold both hands up. “Never mind.”

He scowls and growls under his breath as he goes back to his game. “Oh no! I just got sent back to the lobby.”

“Sorry, bud.” Maybe he’s right, though. Social media is the only way to get enough people to care about the cause that we might make a difference. It’s the best option. I shift my search to How to go viral on Tokkers and decide it’s time for me to get over my aversion to showing up on social media and dive in head-first. How bad can it be? I ask myself, cringing at the onslaught of answers my brain throws at me. I shake them all off with a deep breath and focus on the mission. Save the school. That’s all I need to focus on right now. I remind myself the rest is just noise. In the search results, I come across something called social media influencers, which sounds like an interesting option. “Hey, Levi,” I say, nudging him to get his attention away from the game.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know anything about influencers?”

He grunts out a muffled sound that seems to be a yes.

“Do you think I could do something like that? It says some of them don’t even need that large of a following to get started.”

He nods his head. “Sure. The smaller ones are called micro-influencers.”

“Micro-influencers,” I repeat to myself. “That sounds like it might be the answer.” If I’m going to do this, then I need to just do it and stop thinking about it. No time like the present, I convince myself and tap to download the app to my phone. While it’s installing, I search for examples of videos that helped accounts grow quickly and find myself sucked into the endless rabbit hole of ridiculousness. Some of them have me rolling, while others make zero sense to me. I find one that looks simple enough for me to get started with. The people are just staring at the screen and waiting for a filter to load over their head. It claims to be able to identify your day job by the shape of your smile. I open the app on my phone, set up my new account and find the filter in the search bar. As I stare at myself through the screen and wait for it to load, the anxiety hits me. What makes me think I can pull this off? I’m just about to flick the app off my screen when Ally bounces into the room all smiles.

“What’s up?” I ask, bracing myself for whatever’s coming next. Her expression is a stark contrast to the one I saw her wearing last.

“He’s in,” she says, clapping and jumping up and down in circles in my living room.

“What?”

She laughs and flops down on the sofa beside me. “He’s on his way over. Said he wanted to help decorate and get into the Christmas spirit if he’s going to let us auction him off for the school.” Her eyes cut in my direction as a mischievous grin creeps across her face. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I say, clicking my tongue against my teeth.

“Jett’s coming over?” Levi asks, actually turning his attention away from the video game he’s been playing.

Ally nods. “Yep.”

“Awesome!” Levi jumps up and runs upstairs as excited as I’ve ever seen him. The phone beeps in my hand drawing my attention away from my meddling best friend, and trying to figure out what my son is up to, as the app flips to the next screen where it shows the video it captured of me with a shocked face rivaling the ghost face mask from that popular late nineteen-nineties  horror film franchise that just won’t go away. To top it off, the filter labeled me as a future horror movie star. Great. I don’t think the parents at my school will appreciate the humor, even though it cracked me up, so I swipe it off the screen and decide to try again later. 

A knock at the door makes me jump in my seat. “That must be your brother,” I say, giving Ally a glare as I push myself up off the sofa and make my way to the door. She just chuckles under her breath but doesn’t say a word. I don’t know why she’s pushing this so hard. I reach out to open the door and swing it open. It’s not like I even have time to think about dati— 

Jett’s smiling face interrupts my train of thought. “Hello,” he says, his deep blue eyes sparkling in the glow of the porch light. He holds up a plate of iced Christmas tree cookies. “My mom made these. I thought they might go pretty well with popcorn string decorating.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking the plate and doing my best to hide the fact that butterflies are currently taking flight in the pit of my stomach.

“I hope it’s alright that my sister told us we should come by,” he says, stepping to the side so Tatum could step inside out of the cold. Her dark pigtails bounce as she runs to her aunt who is standing at the end of the foyer watching us with one arm propped against the wall. Subtle, Ally. Real subtle.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” I invite him in just as Levi runs down the stairs holding up the guitar his father got him for his last Christmas with us. “Can you teach me to play?” he asks without even saying hello.

“Levi!” I scold him. “Where are your manners? Jett’s not here for the guitar.”

“It’s really okay,” Jett says, ducking his head so as not to bump it against the frame of the dark mahogany entry door. I can’t help but laugh as I close the door behind us from the mixture of embarrassment that Levi would be so bold and amusement that he’s so tall he nearly knocked himself out just trying to step inside. “As long as it’s okay with your mom,” Jett adds to my surprise, turning around to glance in my direction. It’s not very often the men in my life have noticed when my moods change or when I’m not open to certain things.

I shake my head and hold up both hands. “It’s fine with me,” I say, trying my best not to let the stress of the day take over, since Levi’s obviously excited and Jett really doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, his eyes light up when he looks at the guitar. I’m guessing music must run through his veins the way it seems to pump through Levi’s. “I just don’t want us to be an imposition.”

“That’s definitely not what you or Levi are,” he says, dipping his head just slightly making it difficult for me to read his expression.

“Are you sure?” I ask one more time with a hint of reluctance in my tone.

“Oh for gingerbread’s sake,” Ally groans from where she’s still standing at the end of the foyer. “He doesn’t mind and you don’t mind, now can we get back to the task at  hand. We’ve got a lot of popcorn strings to do before the fundraiser.”

Wait. What? “I thought you came over tonight to help me with my popcorn string decorations, Ally.”

“I did,” she says, matter-of-factly. “And so we could get started on making enough to cover the gymnasium in it for the event.”

“It’s true,” Jett says, flicking his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “She made me stop by the store and empty the shelves of popcorn and wax coated string.”

Of course she did. “I should’ve guessed that,” I admit, shaking my head and stuffing the hand that’s not holding the plate of cookies into the back pocket of my jeans. “I guess it’s a good thing you came by then. Sounds like we’re going to need the back up.”

“Hey,” Levi squeaks from the step he’s still standing on with his bright red guitar. “What about the lesson?”

“After we make some headway on these garlands?” Jett says, glancing at me to make sure it passes the vibe check.

It does. I nod and wave my hand for everyone to move toward the dining table where all the supplies are. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa after we’re done, too.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jett says following us into the dining area. “I just happen to hold the record for the fastest popcorn stringer in our family.”

“Is that a fact?” I ask.

Ally groans and grabs the first bag of popcorn off the counter, tossing it in the microwave and tapping the preset button. “Don’t get too cocky, mister,” she teases him, poking one finger in his chest. “You’ve got a lot to catch up on. My popcorn garland skills might be one of those things.”

A frown tugs at his face as his sister turns her back to him to check on the popcorn in the microwave. His eyebrows knit together, but just as quickly as the regret appears on his face it disappears again as he reaches across the table for some of the tinsel. He cuts some off and slides it across the table to his daughter then cuts a string roughly the same length and passes it to her also. “You’ll wrap this one,” he says, holding up the tinsel, “around this one after the popcorn is all on it.”

“Why?” she asks, looking very confused.

“Uh,” he pauses and shrugs. “To make it look pretty.”

“Don’t tell me,” Ally says, pulling the first bag of popcorn open and dumping it into a bowl. “You’ve never made decorations with her, have you?”

“No,” Tatum says, looking up at her aunt with confusion. “But it looks fun. What do I do?”

Levi doesn’t waste any time sliding into the seat next to her and helping her aunt Ally instruct her on just how to make sure every single popcorn strand is perfectly imperfect.

“Thank you for doing this,” I say, setting a second bowl of popcorn at the other end of the table where Jett is sitting and fall into the chair next to him.

He keeps his eyes focused on the string that he’s trying to unwrap from around his finger and losing. “I always enjoyed doing stuff like this. We just don’t get to do it much on the road.”

“I mean, yeah. This. But also for agreeing to help us with the fundraiser.”

“Oh.” He finally wins the battle with the wayward string and gives himself a little victory fist pump in the air. “It’s no trouble, really.”

“I heard you, earlier,” I admit, doing my best to keep my voice low because the last thing I want is for Ally to start meddling again.

He cringes and grits his teeth. “Sorry.”

“No,” I say, resting my hand on his arm to let him know I’m sincere. “I get it. That’s just such a big request but I want you to know it’s truly appreciated.” Jett freezes in place as his eyes glance down to where my hand is resting on his arm. I jerk it back. “Sorry.”

Levi groans and rolls my eyes. “Don’t mind my mom,” he says. “She’s just worried about her job.”

“Thank you,” I squeak as I whirl my head to glare at my son, who can’t seem to help from oversharing. “Let’s not talk about that right now.”

He shrugs and goes back to sliding popcorn on the string from the opposite end of the table. “It’s true.”

“Is it true?” Jett asks. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head and bite my lip to keep from spilling my guts about everything rolling around in my brain. I don’t know this guy and he doesn’t know me. The last thing I want to do is—

“They’re cutting funding at our school,” Levi speaks up. “Mom’s a teacher there. If they cut the funding all the teachers, including my mom, and all the students have to find a new place to go.”

“That’s why you were so insistent that I do it?” Jett says, glancing up at his sister. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s kind of hard to tell your hotshot brother that your job is on the line and the only way to save is his face.”

“That…” he stammers as his head drops so low his chin nearly touches his chest. “That would be hard, sis. I’m sorry. I had no idea.” He grips the back of his neck and tugs both hands forward. “I don’t know why the system isn’t doing more for the schools, but I’m happy to do my part. Even more so now that I understand why.”

“You really think that?” I ask, unable to shake my curiosity. It’s not very often I meet someone who sees it that way.

He nods. “Without the art program in my old school…” he pauses like he’s looking for the right words to finish his statement. “I wouldn’t be where I am today. Our parents didn’t have the money for formal lessons, so everything I learned about music I learned from trial and error and my music teacher in school.”

“Mom is trying to save the school by becoming a micro-influencer,” Levi adds with a giggle and I feel the heat inflame my face. 

My mouth hangs open. I can’t even imagine the different shades of red I must be turning. This is so embarrassing. “That’s not exactly what I’m planning,” I stammer out.

Jett chuckles and tilts his head to the side like he’s really studying that popcorn kernel before sticking the needle through it to add it to his string. “That’s too bad.”

“What?” I can’t fathom what in the world he’s thinking. “Why?”

“It sounds like a brilliant idea to me.”

“You think?”

He shrugs. “Social media is pretty much like learning a foreign language to me, but the label leverages influencers and micro-influencers in pretty much all of our marketing campaigns.”

“What does that even mean?” I snort out a laugh that’s so embarrassing I just want to crawl under the table.

“There’s a lot that goes into it, from what I understand,” he explains. “But the basics seem to be that you would have to build up your account, go to local spots and ask them for a percentage of their sales for the month, or whatever time frame, to go toward the school in exchange for promoting them on your local lifestyle account. It’s genius.”

That does sound like a brilliant idea. “Is that what I’d be doing?” I ask, looking at my son and Ally for confirmation on this one.

Levi laughs and rolls his eyes. “Mom has never had social media,” he says as he nods. “Yes, that’s what you’d be doing.”

“To be fair, I just never had the time to dedicate to it.” I pop a kernel of my own onto the string I’m just now starting. “I’m always busy taking care of Levi or my kids in class. There hasn’t been any extra time to dedicate to something new.”

“That makes sense,” Jett says. “I think you can do it, though. There’s something about you…”

“What’s that mean?” I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended, but I’m leaning toward the former.

“I just have a feeling you can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve clearly decided you’re going to save the school, so I think you’ll do it.” He pauses long enough to draw in a deep breath. “If you want some backup though,” he gives me a sideways grin, “I might be able to get some help from some…friends of mine.”

I shake my head and catch myself biting the inside of my cheek from the nerves building inside me. “I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Hopefully, whatever I can help bring in will be enough with everything we’re putting together.”

He smiles and tosses the ball to Levi. “It’s no trouble. I’ve made some good friends in the industry. I’ll mention it to them and then if it’s something they want to get involved with, I’ll tell them how they can reach out.” His eyes twinkle with a mischief that makes bumps sprout up and down my arms. “Of course, that means I’d need to get your phone number.”

Ally snickers from where she’s sitting at the end of the table as she pretends to be focusing on her own garland.

“Just… so I can tell them how to get a hold of you.”

He’s sweet, charming, good with kids and handsome. Jett Colson is going to be trouble. I can feel it, but the idea of not having to do this on my own is too tempting to resist. “I’d appreciate that,” I admit, already feeling more vulnerable than I ever wanted to be in front of him or anyone else for that matter.

CHAPTER FIVE
JETT

The sound of the phone ringing echoes in the cab of my parents’ car, which they let me borrow to meet Ally at Delilah’s tonight for the decorations. I hadn’t planned on spending my evening stringing popcorn, but I enjoyed myself. When Ally called and told me her plan to save the school, I had zero intention of letting her auction me off to the highest bidder. In fact, my intentions toward that goal were in the basement. Negative one-thousand. I offered to call in some favors with contacts I’ve made while touring the world. They all need tax write-offs and it was definitely a cause I could see a lot of them wanting to support, but then she told me Delilah was working closely with her on the project and I agreed before I could even stop myself. “You’ve got Nigel. Go.”

“Hey, man.” I pause to see if he’ll recognize my voice. “Long time no talk.”

“Jett? Is that you?” he asks through the speaker of my phone, which is still pressed to my ear.

“It is,” I admit.

“I didn’t recognize the number. That’s a New York area code, right? Are you in the city?”

“No. I grabbed a burner phone before I hopped on the plane.”

“Ah,” he scoffs under his breath but I can still hear the amusement in his tone. “I heard you told The Machine where they could stick their contract.”

I cringe as versions of the conversation I still needed to have with the label, including Curtis, rolled through my imagination. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

“Don’t lie to yourself,” he corrects me with a light-hearted chuckle. “You walked out in the middle of a sold out show at one of the most sought after venues in the states. You’ve drawn the line in the sand.”

He’s right. “That’s not why I called you though.”

“Maybe it should’ve been.”

Fair enough. “Your boys. The Millers. They have a certain passion for getting involved in charity projects, right?”

“They do.”

I remember that much from our time touring together. They were always looking for a cause they could get behind, saying it was their way of paying back the community for the years of support. The fans rallied behind them when they left The Machine and now their label is a major competitor of The Machine’s. They turned the tables and took control of their life. I envied them in some ways. “They’re stationed in Denver now, aren’t they?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think I found a project that’s perfect for them.”

“I’m sure they’d be interested, but I have a condition of my own before you start telling me all about this cause of yours.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll hear you out about your good cause and you hear me out about signing with Amaryllis Records.”

“I’m already under contract,” I remind Nigel.

“Pfft.” I imagine him blowing raspberries on the other side of the phone, which wouldn’t be completely out of character for him and a chuckle falls out. “Don’t laugh, Jett. Two of my favorite words in the English language are Re and Negotiation.”

“Okay, Nigel,” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. I would be lying if I tried to pretend that I didn’t want out of the contract with The Machine. “I’ll listen, but I can’t make any promises. Their terms are airtight.”

“Don’t I know it?” he laughs. “We got the Miller’s out. We can get you out. Tell me more about your cause then we’ll talk about your predicament with your label,” Nigel says, sounding like he’s fully leaning into the conversation. “I’m putting you on speaker, so I can have the app dictate notes. If it’s something I think they’ll be interested in then I’ll forward them the information in the morning and get you a meeting set up.”

“Deal.”

“What are you going to do today, Jett?” my mother asked as I took the next dish from her hands and dried it off on the dish towel.

“I’m not sure yet,” I admit. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a Saturday without a gig.” The cheap burner phone that’s perched on the kitchen counter beeps, drawing my attention back to it. I’ve been checking it almost obsessively since I woke up this morning, waiting for a text from Nigel. Last night I had been confident the school fundraiser was something Amaryllis and their team would want to get behind, but this morning seems to have brought in a fresh wave of uncertainty and nerves. Not to mention Nigel’s not-so-subtle hinting that he wanted to get me out of contract with my current label and talk to me about signing with Amaryllis. That’s not something I would be opposed to. They’ve got an impeccable reputation of professionalism while supporting healthy work-life balance for their artists. A rarity in the industry. “What about you and dad? What are you doing today?” I ask, hoping a change of subject will distract me from checking for a message from Nigel again for at least another five minutes.

“We’re going to the lighting ceremony later tonight,” she says with a smile.

“Lighting ceremony?”

She nods as she continues scrubbing the plate in her hands. “The town makes a big to-do about it every year. It’s a lot of fun. You should come. I bet Delilah and Levi will be there too.”

Heat floods my face. “Has it been that obvious?” I ask, gritting my teeth as I brace for her response.

“No,” she smiles lovingly at me as she hands me the late to dry. “A mother just knows these things.”

My phone lights up and saves me from having to dive any further into this conversation than we already have.

New message from Nigel.

I grab the phone with still wet hands from handling the dishes and tap the screen for it to display the message.

Nigel: They’re in! You’re scheduled for a meeting at their Denver location at 3:00 p.m. today. Don’t be late.

I grab the phone and attempt to swipe a confirmation message out but instead a series of random emojis floods the screen and sends to Nigel. “Oh, no.” I use the towel to dry my hands, so I can try to cancel the message and send back a more coherent response. It doesn’t work because the towel is wet from the dishes. “No. No.” I rub my hands down my denim pant legs, which works. I tap to cancel the message but it’s too late as the clear circle turns blue and Sent displays beside a row of emojis that looks more like a toddler stole my phone than a professional message confirming our meeting to discuss business later today.

The phone dings and I let out an audible groan as I read the new message displayed.Nigel: I’ll take that as a yes. They’ll patch me in for the conversation. Ask for Mira when you get there.

CHAPTER SIX
DELILAH

“Levi!” I yell over the sound of my hair dryer. “It’s time to get up.” It shouldn’t be this big of a deal, but I’m so nervous about today that my stomach has been protesting since last night. Last night… Jett’s face, when I opened the door and saw him standing there, floats through my memory. His smile could melt all the snow that’s fallen in the last two days. There my stomach goes again. It’s rolling like it’s competing in the national gymnastics’ championship. I don’t have time for this. Today, I have to convince most of the shop owners in this town to donate their proceeds to the school. Ugh. “Levi!” I call out again just as he strolls into my room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair is tousled in the worst case of bed head I’ve seen in years. “Well, good morning.”

“Why do I have to be up this early?” he grumbles through a big yawn. “It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”

“We’re launching our new channel today, remember?” I nudge him in the arm with my shoulder as I scooch past him to grab my green velvet blouse with rhinestone buttons from the closet. It’s festive without being over the top and it’s warm, which is a big plus for today.

Levi groans and flops down on my bed, tugging the blanket over his head. “I don’t want to.”

“The channel was your idea,” I remind him. “You’re the one who said social media was the way to go, so you’re coming with me. I need your help to launch this thing.”

“I have regrets,” he says with his voice muffled by the blankets and pillows.

Sigh. This stubborn man-child energy is only going to get worse as he gets older. “What if we stop for pancakes while we’re out?”

The blankets immediately fly up as he swings both legs off the bed, standing straight up. “Deal!” He does a victory air-kick as he runs out of my room and back into his own to get dressed for the day.

“And don’t forget to brush your teeth,” I yell through the wall. The nerves grip me again as I’m tugging my fleece lined black leggings on. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I already know everyone I plan on talking to today. That’s probably why I’m nervous. I’m afraid of letting them and the kids down. I shake the thought from my mind and remind myself this is all very straightforward. I let out a long exhale. This will all get easier. It just takes a little practice. I’m only nervous now because I’ve never done it before and it’s unfamiliar. Once I’m creating videos regularly, it won’t be a big deal. It might even be fun. Ha. I roll my eyes at the idea, but at least I can hope it will turn into something I can have fun with.

“Ready!” Levi’s voice calls out from the other side of my walk-in closet’s door as I’m putting the finishing touches on my outfit.

“One minute!” I yell back, while I swallow back another round of raging nerves. How can I convince a bunch of local business owners to get on board with the charity event for our school when I can’t even decide between two pairs of earrings? Pfft. Although I feel like a fraud, I choose the silver hoops hanging from the jewelry organizer on my closet’s wall. They’re my favorites, so I figure wearing them will help me feel more comfortable while trying to convince people to give us their money. “Ready.”

“Yay!” I can hear him jumping up and down on the other side of the door. “Maybe they’ll have the Santa-cakes at the diner like last year.”

“Even if they don’t, I’m sure what they do have will be just as good” I say, pushing the closet door open with my elbow as I shove my foot into my boot.

The diner is full this morning with familiar faces, all chatting and talking amongst themselves. Half of them are probably gossiping about some of the other people sitting just a few feet away inside this same building. It’s part of the small town charm, I remind myself with a smile. In Crossroads, everyone knows everyone else and you can’t hide anything. The second you make a move; it’s already been broadcast through the whole community. 

“Here you go, sweetie,” our server says as she places my egg-white omelet on the table in front of me.

“Thank you, Georgia,” I say. She takes care of us every single time we come in here, so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well. I take a sip of my orange juice and just as I think I’ve worked up enough nerve to ask her if she thinks the owner would be interested in the fundraiser, the bell over the diner’s entrance door dings and in walks the one person I didn’t expect to see today. His eyes land on mine as soon as he steps inside the building and a warm smile takes over his features sending a fresh wave of butterflies free in the pit of my stomach. 

I wave, awkwardly.

Levi turns around to see who I’m looking at and yells, “Hey, Jett! Come sit with us.”

Today is definitely not going as planned. I glance up at Georgia who smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “He’s a cutie,” she says, turning to go back to the counter. “I’ll grab y’all another menu and be right back,” she calls out over her shoulder.

Great. The whole town is going to have us shipped before he even sits down.

“How are you two, today?” Jett asks, as he flops down in the chair opposite mine. 

“Good,” Levi speaks first. “Where’s Tatum?”

“She decided to stay with her grandma. I think they’re making more cookies today.” He leans back in his chair. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“That makes two of us, but I can’t say I’m upset about it,” I admit, immediately cringing at my own admission as I force myself to look away to avoid getting trapped in those eyes. “I just mean… We’re… Uh…”

“We’re going to start the social media account today,” Levi answers for me with excitement bubbling out of him.

Jett’s smile broadens as he leans forward letting his elbows rest on the table. “That’s great timing, actually.”

“It is?” I ask, fighting back the urge to hide in my omelet.

“Yeah,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “But… you don’t look thrilled about it.”

My tongue clicks against my teeth as I purse my lips together. “Are you calling me out? What did I ever do to you?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, holding both hands up in a truce.

“I’m just nervous,” I admit, stuffing a bite in my mouth aware it’s terrible manners to eat before his food is in front of him, but if I don’t then I will most definitely say something else more revealing, without intending to.

“Hey,” Levi says, the excitement returning to his face, “you should come with us!”

Jett’s eyes glance up at me, probably trying to assess my reaction. I do my best to hide the fact that the idea of him tagging along with us makes me just as happy as it apparently makes Levi. And that’s a problem. I can’t let my guard down around this guy. My son is already getting attached to him. “I’m sure Jett has a million other things to do today besides babysit a brand-new micro-influencer who has no idea what she’s doing.

Just as Jett opens his mouth to respond, Georgia returns and drops his menu on the table in front of him. “What can I get you, son?” she asks, pulling the notepad from her apron’s pocket.

“Uh…” he scans the menu then quickly folds it up, handing it back to her. “Western scramble with extra jalapenos, please.”

“Coming right up,” she says with a wink and a nudge of my shoulder as she walks back to put the order in.

I can’t hide the laugh that spills out of me. “I think she likes you,” I tease.

A lazy smile returns to his face. “She’s nice enough, but not exactly my type,” he says with a wink that makes my heart flutter in my chest.

Uh oh.

“Do you want to come with us today, Jett?” Levi asks again, oblivious to the anxiety attack he’s giving me by inviting our new friend along. Even though I don’t want to admit it, I like this guy and the last thing I want is for him to see me groveling at people’s feet for money.

Jett nods before I can object. “If it’s okay with your mom.”

I let out a sigh and nod. “Of course, it’s okay with me.” What have I gotten myself into?

“Here you go,” Georgia says, sliding Jett’s order on the table in front of him. “Anything else I can get you?”

He shakes his head no and grabs his fork, ready to dig in.

“Miss Georgia,” Levi speaks up with a sparkle in his eye. What in the world is he up to now? “We’re trying to save my school today. Do you think you could help us with that?”

For the love of—

“Oh, no! That’s terrible,” she says, bringing her hand to rest over her heart. “What can I do to help?”

My kid is a genius, even if he puts me in every awkward situation he can find. “We’re starting up a small influencer account on one of the biggest social media apps and hoping to get local businesses involved. The idea is we promote the business and bring more awareness to the masses then the business donates a portion of their proceeds to the school for a set period. Do you think Darla would be interested in committing the diner to supporting the school like that?”

“I think she would,” she says, grabbing her notepad from her apron again. “Can you scribble your phone number on here for me and I’ll have her give you a call?”

“Of course,” I say, grabbing the pen from her hand and jotting down my number along with my name and a quick note that says, Let’s work together to save Crossroads schools! “Here you go.” I hand it back to her with a smile plastered on my face. “Thank you so much for mentioning it to the owners.”

“No problem.” She smiles at Levi. “Anything to help these kids.”

That was easier than I thought it would be. “And… thank you, Levi,” I say, arching an eyebrow at him as he pops another bite of hash brown in his mouth.

“You did that like a pro.” Jett says, with a hint of amusement that makes his eyes glitter in the light of the diner.

“I admit, it really helped to get over the initial fear of how to approach the subject.” I let out a relieved sigh.

“Well… I’m stuffed,” Levi says, as he rubs his full tummy and lets out a big burp.

“Levi!” I laugh and bury my head in my hands while laughing from a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. “Try to remember your manners, please.”

Jett snickers and gives him a high five. “That was a good one, bro.” He scooches his plate away from him and claps his hands together. “Are we ready?”

These two together are going to be the death of me. “So… you’re coming with us?” I ask with hesitation tugging at my words.

He nods. “If that’s still okay with you.” Before I can grab my check off the table, he swipes it up and heads to the counter. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Ugh. “Sure,” I say, knowing I’m not convincing anyone, not even myself. It doesn’t take long for him to reappear in the doorway as he bounces out of the diner and meets us on the sidewalk.

“Are we ready?” he asks.

“I didn’t expect you to buy our breakfast,” I say, unable to fight the instinct to remind him I can take care of us on my own.

“I know.” His nose wrinkles as his eyebrows crash together. “I crashed your morning, so just consider it a thank you for not making me eat by myself.”

“Well, thank you… for that.”

He just grins and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “Okay. Where to first?”

“Our first stop is just next door,” I explain as I go to reach for the door of the first shop on our list of places to visit today.

“Morning Brews coffee shop,” he says, reading the sign over the entrance.

I hold the door open, so Levi can duck under my arm and run inside. He grins ear-to-ear as he turns around and holds up the flyers we printed off last night wiggling them in the air. “Can I ask her for one of those suckers she always has in the jar behind the cash register?”

“You sure can,” a familiar voice calls out from behind the counter. “If it’s okay with your mom, of course.”

“Hello, Lola,” I say, waving a greeting as I step up to the counter. “How are you today?” 

She’s about the same age as my mother and about a foot shorter. Her short blonde hair is held back by a red bandana print headband, which just peeks over the top of the espresso machine she’s standing behind. “Oh, just getting ready for the lighting ceremony tonight. You know how Jim is. Always gets so excited about getting the coffee truck out.”

“I can’t wait for the cocoa tonight. You all have the best flavors for the lighting ceremony.”

“Thank you, Levi,” she says, handing him one of the suckers from the jar. She tries to lean over the counter for a hug but it’s just a little too tall. 

I lean across farther to make it easier on her and wrap one arm around her shoulders. “It’s good to see you.” “I’ve been trying to convince Jim to make some of those year round, but he doesn’t think enough people would buy them.”

“What if I could help you promote those flavors to more people. Do you think you could convince him then?”

“Maybe.”

“What if it was for a good cause?”

“Possibly,” she says, glancing in Jett’s direction with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Who’s this?” 

“This is our friend Jett Colson,” I explain, resting one elbow on the counter and letting it hold up my weight.

“Ma’am,” he says with a nod and every bit of charm a person can possess. Seriously. He might be over the limit. It’s ridiculous. I shake my head to clear the thoughts running wild inside my mind. 

She pulls a tray of fresh cookies out from behind the counter and starts unloading them into the display cabinet. “Here,” she says, placing three cookies on individual paper napkins. “Try this new recipe and let me know what you think.”

“Thank you.” I take the cookie she slides in my direction. “Have you heard about the school?” I ask Lola, knowing full well she’s well versed on the issue as an active member of the community.

She nods and pulls an ink pen out of her apron pocket. “I heard about it. I also heard you have a master plan to get it back into shape. Where do I sign?”

“Who told you?”

“Ally,” she says with a slight laugh. “She came in this morning to get one of those peppermint mochas she’s so fond of and told me everything. I’m happy to help however I can.”

“Ally. I should’ve known,” I say, shaking my head.

“Oh, Delilah. She’s just proud of you. That’s all.” Lola smiles and shrugs, causing her shoulders to rise up around her ears making her look even smaller than she already does. “I’m not sure I understand how all that social media stuff works, but I’m more than happy to be one of your first test subjects.”

“Thank you, Lola,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket and bringing up the contract. “You can read through this and then there’s a space for you to sign at the bottom. It’ll email you a copy after we submit your signature.”

“This is over my head already,” she huffs as she fiddles with the chain around her neck until she finds the end with her reading glasses attached to it. Once they’re perched on her nose, she scans the document, flipping the screen until she finds the signature box. “Did I do it right?” she asks, sliding my phone back to me.

“Yes, ma’am.” A deep sigh of relief escapes me as I give myself a mental high-five for getting through my first deal. “So, the way this works is I’ll make 3-5 videos weekly, highlighting your shop and sharing them with the community and interest focused keywords. They should show you this code,” I add, grabbing one of the flyers from Levi’s armload while he takes a big bite of his cookie. “With any luck, you will see a spike in sales.”

“And I give ten percent of our sales for the month to the school?”

I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Sounds fair to me.” She high-fives me over the counter. “Let’s save that school.”

“Do you mind if I grab a few videos before we leave?” I ask, taking a bite of my cookie. “This is really good, Lola.”

She motions for me to come behind the counter and opens the door leading to the kitchen, where they bake all their treats fresh every morning. “Make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything from me.”

I find a trending audio that fits Lola’s personality and tap to use it in a video. “I need you to lip sync to this.” I tap to play it, so she can hear the words before I hit record.

Her laughter fills the shop. “Okay, I’ll try.” It takes a few tries, but eventually she settles into it and knocks one out of the park.

“That was perfect!” I save the video to drafts and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

“It’s perfect to show the vibe here,” Jett adds with a bite of cookie still in his mouth. “The world needs to know about this place.”

“Thank you, son,” she says as the phone attached to her hip rings.

“We’re going to go,” I whisper, pointing to the door as she holds the phone up to her ear and waves with her free hand. We need to stay focused to round up as many shop owners as we can before it gets too late. 

Jett leans into the door, holding it open for me and Levi. His cologne hits me as I walk past. It completely engulfs my senses and makes my stomach flip in response as he hops out of the doorway and lands on the sidewalk right beside me. “Where to next?” he asks, glancing at his phone.

“Got somewhere else you need to be?” I ask, teasing him as I lean into him playfully.

“Actually…”

“Oh.” My heart sinks and embarrassment immediately floods me. “Of course, you do. Go ahead.”

He holds one hand up and drags it down his mouth like he’s stifling a laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What then?”

He shifts awkwardly on his feet and stuffs both hands in his coat pocket again. “Do you remember last night when I said I had some contacts who might want to get involved?”

I nod.

“Well…” He squints one eye closed and barely peeks at me through the other. “I might’ve called them last night to see if they wanted to support your cause.”

“You did?”

He nods. “And they’re interested,” he adds with a forced smile like he’s not sure if I might be upset that he reached out on our behalf. 

“Who are they?”

“Amaryllis and their team.”

“Am… Wait. Did you say Amaryllis?”

He nods, again and winces like I might throw something at him. “They want to meet with us today.”

“Us?”

“Yeah, us. We have an appointment at three, if you’re free.” He holds both hands up. “If you’re not then I can go and just report back. I know it’s late notice.”

“I…”

Levi tugs on my coat hem. “Can we go, Mom? Please!”

I glance up at Jett’s face trying to measure his expression, sincerity is pouring off of him in waves. “Yeah,” I say, looking back to see Levi’s wide and toothy grin. “Yeah, we can. Thank you, Jett,” I add, turning my attention back to the man standing beside me.

He lets out a long exhale and the smile returns to his face. “Come on, then,” he says, nodding toward the old red truck at the end of the sidewalk. “I borrowed my dad’s wheels. I’ll drive.”

I can’t help but laugh at the image of this world famous rock star with more money than the entire town having to ask his dad to borrow his old work truck. He’s nothing like the man I expected to meet when Ally asked me to go with her to pick up her brother from the airport. Jett’s actually the complete opposite of the person I had expected to meet and I think that’s what I liked most about him.

CHAPTER SEVEN
JETT

“Is that the campus?” Levi asks, pointing to the ornate entrance at the end of the road I’ve just turned the truck onto. It’s massive and sprawling, but inviting. A definite contrast to the intimidation lurking around every corner of The Machine’s campuses. A loud gulp comes from Delilah as she peers through the windshield. Maybe it is intimidating, just in a different way.

“That’s it.” The road curves and leads us to the academy’s entrance. “You know it’s pretty amazing what they’ve done for the industry,” I say to break the silence in the cab of the truck.

Delilah tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve paved the way for a lot of artists to take some control back over their careers and they’re giving back to the community as they do it. Most of the labels in the industry are just in it for the bottom line but they’re putting the heart back into the music industry. I hope to be part of it one day.”

She nods slowly and seems to be studying the campus as she leans forward to see through the slightly foggy window. I suck in a deep breath to steady my nerves. I’m not just here to talk to them about the school. I’m here to talk to them about changing mine and Tatum’s lives for the better and getting out of the endless media circus that I’ve been on for years.

“I remember when they first broke ground for the campus,” she muses from the passenger seat. “This part of the area was completely barren. Tourism in Denver had all but ceased, because of the travel restrictions from the pandemic. The campus here helped revive the local economy, because of the funds they invested to support the building project.” 

“The media was buzzing with excitement. I remember it covered all the syndicate stations, no matter what city we were in.”

“Seeing the positive legacy of the area being perpetuated by the big business showing up in our backyard was nice. It eased a lot of worries about corporate America coming to shut all the little shops down in Crossroads.”

“Crossroads seems to be doing okay now.”

She nods. “I think everyone around here hopes it’s a new start for the city and it’s one of the reasons I wanted to stay, even if the school loses its funding.”

I glance up and find her already looking at me with a strange hesitation in her gaze. One I hadn’t noticed her wearing before. Brushing it off as nerves, I slide the truck into an open space in the lot. I thought about using my name to get us parking in the garage but something tells me she prefers a simpler life. The entrance is a well-manicured and fully decorated festive display, which makes it feel warm and welcoming. It’s difficult to forget who runs the academy though and I’m about to ask them for money and help breaking my contract with one of the most notoriously litigious labels in the business.

A guard in the security booth tips his head as we walk up to the window. “Welcome to Amaryllis Campus,” he says with a wide grin on his face. “How can I help you today?”

“We have a three o’clock appointment with Mira,” I reply as the guard glances at Levi who is slack jawed and staring at the massive building just on the other side of the gate. He’s apparently struggling to take it all in. I don’t blame him.

“Let me just confirm you’re on the schedule,” he turns to his computer screen. “Name?”

“Jett,” I say, intentionally leaving off my last name.

“Jett. What?” The guard prods.

“They probably have it listed as Jericho,” I sigh, clearing my throat. I’m sure this guy sees famous people everyday. There’s no reason to think—

He lets out a low whistle, interrupting my own train of thought. “You’re Jett Jericho?” he asks.

Levi immediately snaps out of his daze and grabs the lip of the small counter pulling himself up so he can see inside the booth’s window. “He sure is!”

The guard chuckles nervously and pulls a paper out from a drawer inside the booth, sliding it through the slit in the glass window. “Would you sign this for my daughter? She’s a huge fan and it’d mean the world to her.”

“Sure,” I say, grabbing the paper and scribbling a quick note. 

“Her name’s Britney.”

To Britney.

From your dad

Merry Christmas!

Jett Jericho

“Here you go,” I say, sliding the paper back through to him on the other side. Delilah shifts uncomfortably on her feet and it makes me even more self-conscious about the situation. “Can we get our clearance badges, please? I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Oh,” he nods and punches something into his computer system. “Yes, of course.” The gate beeps in response. “They’re expecting you, Mister Jericho.” Holding one finger up, the guard reaches into another drawer and retrieves two electronic badges. “Good luck with your cause,” he adds as he runs both cards through a machine, which beeps twice and flashes a yellow light. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Delilah,” she replies with a slight quake in her voice that I can’t quite interpret. “Delilah Woodward.”

“Got it.” His fingers type her name in the system and the machine responds by beeping twice more and changing the yellow light to green. He repeats the process with Levi’s card. “And you?” he asks, glancing down at her son, who’s back to staring ahead at the massive building. “You’re all set,” he says as the machine beeps again and releases the cards. The white plastic rectangle cards are branded with a red and pink ombre Amaryllis flower on the front side.

“Thank you,” I say, taking my card and sticking it in my front pocket so I can grab it when needed.

The guard motions toward another booth where two men are talking with a row of golf carts behind them. “Go see that guy over there. He’ll take you to the academy.”

“Got it.”

Levi’s hand is still in his mother’s as we make our way from the security booth to the transportation booth. The man who walks up to greet us has Lincoln inscribed over his chest, with the same Amaryllis logo that’s on our keycards underneath his name. “Hello there,” he says with a broad smile matching the one our new friend the security guard wore, which makes me realize everyone passing by is wearing the same type of expression. There isn’t a single person scowling or frowning or sulking. They all look happy. “I’m Lincoln. You can just call me Link. Which part of the campus are you headed to, today?”

“We have a meeting with Mira in the marketing department,” I reply, recalling the details Nigel had texted me previously.

“Right away,” he says with a wink as he leads us to the golf cart at the front of the row. “Hop on. Make sure the buckle clicks.” His booming voice leaves no room for hesitancy. “Keep your arms and feet inside while we’re on the trails.”

Levi giggles as he slides into the buggy first. His seatbelt clicks before I’m even settled into my seat. He’s bouncing up and down, but clearly trying not to. He is so excited about this. It makes my heart full. I could get used to moments like these. But there’s something else… I think it’s optimism, which is strange because I never expected to feel that way about my career ever again. I definitely never expected to feel it about another person, not like I feel it when I’m around Delilah and Levi. That’s a thought for another time though. I refocus my attention on the issue at hand. The energy here is light and happy. Everyone is smiling and acting like they’re living their best life. It’s refreshing. 

“We’ll be pulling up in front of the main campus next,” Link calls out over his shoulder. It’s difficult to hear him over the sound of the cart. Even though it sits in the middle of the city, it feels like the campus is its own little town nestled away. I don’t respond, not because I intend to be rude. My mama raised me better than that. I just can’t force my attention away from the ambiance.

“Mama,” Levi tugs on her shirt sleeve and points to the impressive entrance labeled Amaryllis Academy. “There it is!”

“He’s wanted to go to this academy for as long as I can remember,” she explains.

“Why hasn’t he?”

She scoffs and scratches at the back of her neck. “Well… with the mortgage and all our living expenses, I just couldn’t swing the extra cash.” There’s a woman standing out front with a line of guests in front of her. “Excuse me,” I say, leaning forward so our driver can hear me better. “What are they doing?”

He turns his head toward the entrance where they’re all gathering around the petite framed woman with fire red hair. “That’s the tour. They start in,” he checks his watch, “three minutes. You better hurry if you want to catch it.”

“Can you stop here? We’ll walk the rest of the way to our meeting.”

He obliges and the buggy comes to a stop as I scramble out and reach behind me motioning for Delilah and her son to follow.

“Hello, everyone,” the red-haired woman calls out over the chatter and commotion of the mingling voices. I don’t have to tell Levi we need to hurry, he’s already out of the cart and halfway up the sidewalk as I mouth a quick Thank you back to our driver. 

Delilah’s walking a couple of paces ahead of me now as I try to catch up to them. “Wait up.” She doesn’t. I write it off as just rushing to catch up to her son and him being faster than a rat up a drainpipe. “My name is Cadence,” she says, as I reach the back of the line. “I’ll be your tour guide today,” she continues. “We’ll begin in just a moment, but first I need everyone to look at the person standing next to you. Some of you might know each other. Some of you might be meeting each other for the first time. Shake hands or wave to each other, if you’re comfortable with it. Say hi. We’re all grateful you’re here.”

“Mom,” Levi says, looking up at Delilah with hopeful eyes and I already know what’s coming next. “Can we see if there’s an opening in my age group?” Now her frustration makes sense. I didn’t think about what the repercussions of this tour might be for her. I just flew off with the idea because I wanted to make him happy but it was selfish. I get that now.

I mouth Hello to the man and his partner standing in front of us. 

“I will have to figure out the finances, Levi,” she says. “I’m just not sure I can make it work but if I can then I will.”

“For my birthday?” he asks, again with hope filled eyes. “That’s six whole months away.” 

She smiles and shrugs. “I’ll try, honey.” 

The weight of her situation hits me. She’s struggling to keep her job right now and here I’ve made it even more difficult for her by pushing us all into this tour. “I’m sorry,” I say, quietly so only she can hear me. 

She doesn’t respond but smiles half-heartedly before turning her attention back to the woman leading the tour. 

“Let’s begin!” She calls out with a wave of her hand over her head, signaling us all to follow along behind her. Cadence points out the reception area where several men and women are all positioned behind a large white desk inscribed with the Amaryllis Media logo that’s become a fixture in the industry over the last few years. It’s hard to go anywhere in this business and not see that logo somewhere. The industry was dying not that long ago, but when this family pushed for change they started a chain reaction that seems to be bringing the entire music industry with them. It’s changed everything for a lot of artists. Even if I still have my reservations about fame and what it can do to people’s minds—I cringe as I think about what it’s done to some of my friends over the years—it seems like the Miller family just wants to do good and leave the places they touch a little better than when they arrived. 

Levi’s grip on his mother’s hand seems to tighten as we walk past a classroom marked with his age group on it. “I’ll do everything I can to make it happen soon,” she whispers in his ear with every bit of sincerity I have ever heard in my entire life. It means so much to him, and it breaks my heart it’s out of reach for them right now. He nods and keeps staring through the glass at the kids lined up in front of their instructor who wears a large genuine smile as he answers their questions and moves around the room to help the students who appear to be struggling with the math equation. He turns toward the glass windows and offers an exaggerated wave to our group. 

“This is our math class,” Cadence explains as she holds up one hand, causing the stream of people following her to stop in our tracks. “Nash Miller is one of the founding members of this academy with his wife, Ainsley.” she admits. “Our math instructor is out for the holidays but Nash wanted to ensure our kids still had a warm place to come learn, so he’s taken time out of his own schedule to be here and keep the classroom active until Mister Hoffmeir returns from his holiday vacation. “Let’s continue,” Cadence says, waving her hand in the air again. We all fall back into line and follow along behind her as she moves us through the winding corridors and up the stairs to the second floor. “Hello, Mira,” she says with a grin on her face as she spins around on her heel from the top of the staircase. “Ainsley Miller herself, everyone.” She holds her hands out toward a woman with auburn hair dressed in black leather leggings and a white menswear style button-down shirt tied into a knot just above her natural waist.

“Ainsley Miller…” I remember the website said she was the one who oversaw all the academy’s programs to ensure they aligned with state and national standards. I wonder if she also oversees their fundraising programs. Being a co-founder with her husband, I’m guessing she has a lot of say in what they take part in and what they don’t. I step out of line with the tour, tugging on Delilah’s hand to bring her and Levi with me. “Missus Miller,” I say with my breath suddenly catching in the back of my throat like I’ve just swallowed a whole basketball and can’t quite force it down. “I’m sorry,” I squeak out as the bright-eyed woman in front of me reaches to shake my hand. “I’m Jett Jericho.”

“I know who you are and please call me Ainsley,” she says with a kindness in her tone that’s unexpected. There’s a feeling like we’ve known each other for years sweeps over me as I let out a light chuckle. 

“Thank you,” I say, nodding to my companions. “This is Delilah and her son Levi.”

“Hello. It’s lovely to meet you,” she says, glancing toward Levi and offering him a high-five. “You look about the same age as my nephew Carter.”

“I’m eight,” he says, a little louder than necessary. “How old is he?”

“Ten,” she says with her smile widening across her face as she glances back up at me. “I’m sorry, Jett. Nigel told me that you might stop by today.”

Okay, here we go. I stuff my pride into a box inside, somewhere I may or may not find again and suck in a deep breath. “I wanted to speak with your team about a couple of things. We have an appointment with Mira.”

“About Crossroads schools, right?” she asks with a cocked eyebrow.

I nod. “Yep,” I say, remembering the flyers Levi has stuffed in the bag slung around his neck. “Do you still have one of those flyers, buddy?”

He nods and pulls one out, handing it to Ainsley.

Hope is building even though I’m trying not to let myself get too excited over the possibility of attracting some additional support for Delilah’s cause and getting myself out of The Machine’s clutches.

“We’re on the verge of having to shut down the school entirely,” Delilah adds matter-of-factly. “We have until the first of the year.”

“That’s terrible,” Ainsley says, reading over the flyer Levi just handed her. “I remember this school in particular,” she says, tapping a long black matte fingernail against the paper. “We spoke to the superintendent about letting us pick up the arts programs to help ease some of the funding issues.”

“Well, that’s kind of the problem,” I add. “The funding has run out entirely.”

Delilah nods. “We’re all going to be out of a job very soon, which means all the children who go there will have to be disbursed to neighboring community schools.”

Her eyes scan Delilah up and down like she’s trying to figure me out. “You’re a teacher there?”

She nods. “Early childhood education.”

“So, you’re on the chopping block first,” she holds the flyer in her hand, letting it tap her chin as she ponders over whatever idea is brewing in her mind.

Levi looks up at his mom and smiles. “She’s the best teacher they have.”

“Well…” she stammers. “I’ve been teaching for a while, but I just want what’s best for the kids.”

“That’s very admirable,” she says, still perching her chin on one hand as she searches for an answer to some unspoken question. “Come this way,” she says, motioning for us to follow her, which we do without hesitation. “Now,” she says, leading us into a large office tucked away in the back of the second-floor corridor, “nothing is final yet, but if we were to get involved I’m under the impression you’d be joining our label Mister Jericho.” She glances over her shoulder waiting for my response.

“That’s a little bit of a tricky situation,” I admit, closing one eye in a wince. “I’m still under contract with my current label.”

“Let me rephrase that question, Mister Jericho. “If we were to buy out your remaining term and involve ourselves in this fundraiser for Crossroads schools, will you be joining our label?”

Delilah’s eyes lock with mine as confusion and hope washes over her face. It’s the best offer I’m ever going to get. A chance to get away from The Machine and help Delilah with her goals in the process. “Sign me up.”

“Excellent,” she claps her hands together and ushers us into the conference room. “I’ll let Mira know we’re ready to begin.”

“I can’t believe we pulled that pitch off,” I say, taking the fresh peppermint mocha from Delilah’s hand as she and Levi climb into the truck. We stopped by the campus cafeteria for a hot drink to combat the frigid weather, before leaving.

“I knew you would,” she says, taking a sip from her own coffee after I hand it back to her. “Your passion for what you do really came through. I just appreciate you using your contract negotiation as an opportunity to help with the school.”

“I actually used your school to help with my negotiation,” I admit with a laugh that fills the cab of the truck.

“Somehow,” she tilts her head thoughtfully to one side as her breath creates a fog from the cold air, “I don’t think you needed the school to help plead your case. So… thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The image of Nigel’s face on the Zoom floats through my mind. “Did you see his face when I told him what we were planning?”

“I thought we were sunk,” she admits.

Levi snickers and shakes his head as he takes in a big sip of his hot cocoa.

“I still can’t believe it,” Delilah sighs, resting against the headrest. “Our little school is getting the exact boost it needs.”

“Assuming people actually show up to bid on a date with me,” I add with a cringe. “It’s not a done thing, yet.”

She laughs and shakes her head as if I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I can’t imagine someone not showing up for that, Jett.”

Is she trying to tell me something? 

Silence rests over the cab for most of the drive home. It’s not an awkward silence, just a comfortable one. It’s nice feeling like I don’t have to struggle to find words to fill the gaps like I usually feel when I’m on tour. The need to always be on is exhausting, draining. I don’t feel that here, not when I’m with her. “So,” I say when I turn the truck onto the last stretch of road before reaching downtown where she left her car earlier this morning. “About this lighting ceremony tonight.”

“Oh, yeah,” she says with a smile as her dark eyes glance in my direction. I could get lost in them if she’d let me. “Levi loves it. We go every year.”

“You’re going tonight, then?”

She nods and takes a sip of her coffee.

“Would you… maybe… want to go with me, tonight?” 

Her face turns the most perfect shade of pink as her teeth tug slightly at the corner of her lip. “I’d like that.” Her words come out in nearly a whisper but they make my heart pound inside my chest.

“Good. So would I,” I admit, doing my best to keep my eyes on the road and not the beautiful woman sitting beside me.

CHAPTER EIGHT
DELILAH

My phone buzzes and hisses at me as the alarm goes off, which I’m certain I set for at least an hour later than this. Yawn! I peek through one eye with my face still smooshed into my pillow, until I spot the traitorous technology vibrating its way across my nightstand. The preview pane says I have 99+ notifications as I smack the snooze button, pulling the blankets back over my head as I attempt to settle in for another fifteen minutes of sleep.

Wait. What?

The blanket flies off my head as I reach for the phone and swipe the screen on. I wasn’t dreaming. My notifications are maxed out and they are all from the social media app. What is so important, this early in the morning? I tap to open the app and check the numbers. My followers skyrocketed overnight. When I checked last night before bed, I was at a little over one hundred, which were just the accounts for the shops whose owners agreed to collaborate with me for the fundraiser. Now, I’m well over two thousand followers and my last video has over one-hundred-thousand views. How did that happen? I have no clue how to answer that, but It’s exciting… and confusing. As I’m flipping through the notifications, I notice Amaryllis Academy shared my last video. Their share of the video must be where the influx of new followers and views came from, because it sure wasn’t from my modest little start-up account no-one even knew about yet.

Ally’s face flashes on the screen as the phone vibrates in my hand. I swipe to answer the call and put her on speaker phone as I put the phone back on its stand to hold it up for me. “Morning,” I say, still staring at the screen, trying to process my little account’s major win that’s still in process as the follower count continues to climb even while I’m staring at it.

“Did you see your account stats yet?” she asks, screaming in my ear.

I try not to let the excitement burst out of me, but I fail. “I saw!” I squeak. “It’s still climbing!”

“What did you do?” she asks. “You only posted a couple of videos. Did you run ads?”

“It was your brother.” I scroll through the notifications again, looking for anything that might help me figure out what happened. “He made a deal with Amaryllis and they shared the account last night. That’s the only thing that could’ve possibly done it.”

She squeals with excitement on the other side of the phone. I can hear her fingers tapping on the screen.

“Are you going to check out their account to see the share?”

“Of course, I am,” she admits. “There it is! That must be what did it,” she agrees as her finger taps come to a halt. “They attached a link to your post offering a discount on their individual lessons and committed to giving twenty percent of all net earnings this month to the school.”

I let out a slow, steady breath as I lean back against my headboard. “I know this was the plan all along, but seeing it come together is surreal.”

“But awesome, right?” Ally doesn’t even pause for a breath before continuing. “The comments on their repost of your video are blowing up too.”

I scroll through them to see what the conversation is. The pinned comment is from Nash Miller announcing a concert where every penny earned will be donated to the school. It’ll be a dual headlining act with Amaryllis and Jericho. Wow! My mouth gapes open as I stare at the screen. I expected the percentage of their sales, because that’s what we discussed already but they’ve taken it to the next level and have far exceeded all my expectations by offering their proceeds from what they’re labeling the Love Blooms charity benefit concert. One of the accounts that likes the comment is JettMan110. I let out a chuckle and Ally catches it immediately.

“What?” she asks. “What just happened over there?”

Uh… “Nothing.”

“I’m calling your bluff,” she snorts. “I know you better than that. What’s going on? Don’t make me scroll and find it on my own.”

“There should be a rule where friends don’t call out friends.”

“So, you admit you’re lying,” she deadpans.

“It’s nothing.”

“Ha! It’s definitely something.”

“Okay, fine.” I sigh. “I just noticed that an account with Jett’s name liked the comment and wondered if that was your brother.”

Ally pauses as her fingers tap against the screen, again.

“You’re looking for the account I saw, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” she admits with zero shame in her tone. “JettMan is my brother. It’s his personal, private account.”

“So…” I glance away from the screen to avoid making eye contact with her. “It would definitely not be a good idea to send a friend request to that account, right?”

“Hmm.” Her silence makes my stomach flip. Why should I care if he’d want a friend request from me or not, anyway? The nerves are in full effect now. Butterfly swarms and all. She lets out a cackle that nearly blows out my eardrum through the phone’s speaker. “Do it.”

“What?” My first reaction is to throw my phone and dive back under my pillows and blankets.

“Don’t start.” She cuts me off, putting one hand up.

I’m certain what she’s about to say will irritate me, but I have to know. “What’s that mean, Ally?”

“It means that you can’t hide from love forever.”

“Love?” I cover my face with both hands.

She gives me a knowing glare through the phone. The same one she gives her students when they’re not telling her the truth as their school counselor.

“We just met,” I scoff. “Love might be taken it a bit far.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve seen the way you both look at each other. I just don’t want to see you give up your own happiness because you’re afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” I ask, immediately regretting asking the question.

“That history will repeat itself.”

I let out a low whistle. “That was kind of harsh, Ally.”

“I don’t mean it that way.” She gives a slight smile through the screen. “I really don’t. But… you can’t hide yourself away forever because of Trevor.”

Talking about my dead first husband was not on the list of things I wanted to do today. “Stuff I don’t want to talk about for a thousand, Alex.”

She scowls at me through the phone. “Are you seriously going to try to convince me that your hesitation with my brother isn’t because you lost Trevor in a plane crash?”

A slow steady exhale leaves my body. “He travels for a living, Ally. I would be a disaster every time he left, afraid he might not come home.”

“I see what you’re doing, Delilah.” Ally lets out an exasperated sigh and groans at the same time. “He’d want you to be happy.”

“Thanks, Ally. Love you. Goodbye,” I say, tapping the screen to end the call as I shake my head and run my fingers through my hair, forcing all of the thoughts of Jett’s face out of mind as I swing one leg over the bed with the second one following right behind it and slide my feet into my house shoes. I need a distraction, so I decide to go into town and gather up some more short videos of the shops to feature on the account.

The phone stand is taller than I am when I fully extend it and perch it on the sidewalk in front of the academy. “Levi?” I motion for him to position himself next to the stand. “Can you hold onto this to make sure it doesn’t topple over?”

“Sure,” he says, grabbing hold of it with one hand. “But it’ll be fine if you just kick out this leg.” His foot nudges one of the metal arms at the base and a third one slides out, which works perfectly to help balance the silly thing.

“Thank you.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s a good thing you’re here to help me with this.” Otherwise I would be fumbling my way through this attempt at social media and fall flat on my face. If I didn’t have him then there’s no way I could figure it all out in time. “Now, how does this thing work?” I ask while fumbling with the remote that came with my fancy new influencer-ready phone stand, or at least that’s what the ad said for the sales page. “This must be the record button.” As soon as I tap the red button in the center of the remote a green light flashes on my phone.

Levi nods his head, throwing his thumb in the air to signal it’s working. “Hello Crossroads,” I say, feeling more awkward than I’ve ever felt in my life. It’ll get easier, I remind myself so I can keep going. “We’re here in the heart of our beautiful community where most of the shops on this street have graciously offered to donate a portion of their proceeds to Crossroads schools.”

An oversized bundle of fur runs past, interrupting the video. It stops and turns long enough to lick my hand leaving a slobbery trail dripping from my fingers.

“Benji, wait!” a familiar voice calls out.

I reach out to pet the bundle of fur. “Hi there.” Reaching into my back pocket, I find a tissue.

“Jett!” Levi yells as he runs up the sidewalk and comes to a stop in front of the man I can’t seem to stop thinking about. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

I can’t help but notice how Jett’s face blushes. “Sorry about that, Delilah,” he says, tugging on the leash trying to pull Benji back enough to give me at least a small amount of personal space.

I laugh, wiping my fingers off with the tissue before tossing it in the green trash can standing at the edge of the sidewalk. “It’s okay.”

“So,” Levi interjects as he kneels down to snuggle the small horse attached to Jett’s leash. “What are you two doing here?” he asks again, glancing back to where Jett and his daughter Tatum are standing. “And when did you get this guy?”

“Le—” I start to tell him that’s rude to ask, but Jett cuts me off.

“It’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “Tatum saw him on the morning news as a pet needing a home and asked if he could be her Christmas gift. I couldn’t say no.”

“That’s really sweet.” 

“I was just actually hoping to run into you. Ally said you were going to be in town getting video for the account.”

“Oh.” I run my fingers through my hair, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear.

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s just that Nigel sent me our first media assignment from the label and I wanted to tell you about it in person.”

“What type of assignment?” Skepticism drips from my words as I feel my eyebrows pinching together.

He laughs and tosses his head back. “Nothing too extreme. It’s just a quick spot with the local radio station.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I admit.

“And…”

“And?”

“A tree planting ceremony at the local Christmas tree farm afterwards.”

“Tree planting?”

“Yep.”

“Okay,” I say, stuffing my phone into my pocket. “When?”

He bobs his head to one side then another. “About an hour from now.”

“An hour?”

“Sorry,” he says as he clenches his teeth together in a grimace. “Want to ride with us? We just have to stop off at the house to drop Benji off, first,” he adds, glancing at the giant bundle of drool and fur sitting beside me.

“Shh,” Tatum says, holding a finger up to her lips. “You’re hurting his feelings.”

I can’t help but laugh. He does look like he’s getting annoyed with his new owner already.

“Hey, don’t judge. We’re only a half-a-day into this partnership and I’ve already learned not to leave the house without a pack of wipes to mop up the slobber.”

“He’s adorable though,” I admit. “Even if he’s slightly gross, sometimes.”

“My dad is also slightly gross, sometimes,” Tatum adds with a wrinkle of her little nose.

“Hey,” he scoffs and clutches his chest like he’s just been shocked. “I hear I’m also sometimes adorable.”

He’s not wrong, but I do my best not to react as he motions for us to follow him to the car. A radio interview was definitely in the plans for today, but I’m starting to get used to Jett’s company. Plus, it’s for the school.

CHAPTER NINE
JETT

“You’re listening to KCRM Crossroads Country. Here’s your host Mike the Spike.”

Delilah’s leg is bouncing up and down fast enough she might just flip herself out of the chair. I reach to grab her hand to help calm her nerves. Part of me expected her to pull back. Anytime I attempt to get close to anyone, they pull back. I’ve never blamed them because this life is a lot for anyone to digest. She doesn’t, though. Her fingers intertwine around mine and squeeze back.

“Hey, Crossroads. It’s Merry Mike here to get you through the day’s highs and lows,” his voice booms through the audio channels. “We have a little surprise in store for everyone listening today,” he says, plastering a showman’s smile on his face. A trick we all do in the business to make sure the words come through with the right energy. No one has time for a moody on-air personality. “We have Jett Jericho in the studio with us today from the band our listener’s voted as Crossroads Band of the Year, Jericho.” The applause track plays on his cue.

I clear my throat and try to ignore the way all of the oxygen is being sucked out of the room when I look at Delilah. There’s so much I want to say to her, but I’ve only known her a few days. What is there to even say? “Hi,” I force out into the microphone. Ugh. That was not the energy I wanted to bring to the show, but it is what it is. “I’m happy to be here,” I add, doing my best to shift my tone to the excitement I want to project. “I’ve also brought the woman responsible for initiating this project.”

“Hello,” she says, softly into the microphone. Her eyes are darting all around the room, clearly nervous.

“That’s right. Delilah,” Mike shifts gears, focusing on her in an attempt to draw us both out. This is going to be a long fifteen minutes. “I know you’re the one responsible for putting together the charity event scheduled for this weekend. Why don’t you tell us a little more about it?” He shoots an uncertain glance toward his producer, who looks equally as nervous, sitting in the control room just on the other side of the glass window.

“Sure,” she clears her throat and leans into the microphone. “The purpose of the event is to save our local school from being shut down. We all know the budget has been difficult over the last few years, but it’s finally reached its breaking point. The superintendent has said we have until the first of January to raise the funds we need for the first quarter or we’ll be shut down.”

“That’s terrible,” Mike says into the microphone with what sounds like sincerity.

“If that happens, Mike,” Delilah continues and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. She might’ve been nervous to start with but now that she’s talking about something she’s passionate about, she’s nailing it. “All of the teachers who currently work at Crossroads Schools will be out of work and our students will be dispersed between the various schools in the district.” 

“We can’t let that happen now can we, listeners?” Mike motions for the control booth to open the phone lines. “And from what I hear there’s an event being hosted today by the Crossroads Tree Farm to help support the cause?” This time he glances in my direction.

“That’s right, Mike,” I say, doing my best to sound as confident as Delilah had when she spoke about the school. “The goal today is to put a little love and life back into the Earth.”

“This is the season for cutting down trees, after all,” Delilah adds with her voice as perky and vibrant as ever, bringing every bit of the energy in the room back up.

“So,” I continue, “The label thought it might be the right time to put some back in the ground too, while doing something good for the community in the process.”

Mike seems relieved as he leans back in his chair and adjusts the headphones on his ears. “When your label reached out to us and said Amaryllis Records was interested in a co-sponsor, KCRM jumped at the chance. We’re always looking for ways to give back and in the spirit of giving. Jett, can you tell our listeners what’s in it for them?”

“Amaryllis Records will be matching the donations from today’s tree planting and everyone who donates will be entered to win the grand prize at the charity auction over the weekend.”

“And that’s quite the grand prize, isn’t it?” he prods.

“A date… with me,” I add trying to hold back the internal groan that wants to spill out of me. I don’t want to go on a date with anyone but the woman sitting next to me.

Mike slaps the desk for dramatic effect that echoes through the studio. “Sounds like it’s a rocking holiday to me. The grand prize will include a special holiday treat indeed. The winner will be whisked away for a romantic dinner for two complete with a helicopter ride over Denver with a spectacular view of the holiday lights and of course a private concert provided by Jett Jericho. How’s that sound to everybody?”

The ringing of the phone lines surprises me, making me jump in my seat. “Sounds like the listeners like the idea, already,” Delilah says, pulling her hand away from mine.

What did I do?

“Let’s see what they’re saying. Caller, you’re on the air with Merry Mike and Jett Jericho of. What do you think about this giveaway?”

“Sounds like you’re just trying to cover your tracks since disappearing on your fans who paid for a performance the other night.”

“Oh, would you look at that?” He waves to the engineer sitting on the other side of the glass window. “Something went wrong with our phones. Gary will look into it. Let’s try the next caller.” A long pause makes for an awkward on-air silence. “Caller?”

There’s a rustling on the other end that sounds like someone dropped the phone and is still fumbling with it before a familiar voice finally comes through. “Sounds like you’re scrambling to cover for breaking your contract and commitments to me.”

Mike’s eyes dart between Delilah and me waiting for one of us to jump in.

“Maybe that little girl of yours in the studio should come up with some new tricks.”

That’s it. He’s gone too far this time. “Curtis, you don’t know anything about my life or who is in this studio with me. Get back to worrying about your own job and then maybe you’ll stop losing talent left and right. The Machine’s ready to fire you, aren’t they?”

“Oh!” Mike leans back in his seat and signals the producer to play a bell ringing like the start of a boxing match. “All right boys, this sounds like a battle our callers might be interested in.”

I pull the mic in close with a fire I haven’t felt in a long time. A crushing pain in my chest takes me by surprise when I glance over and see a single tear forming in the corner of Delilah’s eyes. “Listen to me, Curtis. My attorney will be contacting yours with a protective order.”

He lets out a condescending chuckle before the line goes silent.

“Well, that was eventful. Care to tell us about the history there?”

I shake my head and scowl. “Nothing more than a misplaced sense of loyalty, which I’m finally working to correct.

She gives me a look that could quite possibly suck my soul out through my nose.

Mike narrows his eyes as a wicked grin creeps across his face. “It looks like you might have something to say about that, Delilah. Care to share with the rest of the class here?”

Of course, he saw an opportunity to make great radio and snatched it up like it was the last cookie in the jar.

“Oh, uh,” she stammers until he cuts her off.

“Let’s take a poll from our callers.” He signals the engineer to start patching them back through. “Caller, you’re on the air. What do you think is going on here?”

“Most definitely a love triangle.”

“That’s not—” 

I’m interrupted by Mike holding up his hand as he takes the next call. “Caller, you’re up next.”

“I’m guessing it’s got something to do with why Jett disappeared from the show the other day.”

“Oh, you’re a fan?” Mike asks.

“Of course! I have all the international cuts and special releases.”

Mike laughs into the microphone. “The UK release was epic, wasn’t it?”

“Thanks,” I mumble into the microphone.

“I still think that’s it though. He’s always a real jerk at the shows. I don’t blame him though. It’s got to be tough living that life.”

Wow.

“Alright. We’ve got two votes for Jett’s a jerk and zero votes for . . . Well, anyone else.” He snickers. “Sorry, man.”

I nod and make a whatever face. “Truth hurts sometimes.” My eyes peek at Delilah sitting next to me. The pained look on her face is enough to gut me right here in front of Merry Mike and everyone else in Crossroads. I can’t do this anymore. “I would like to hear from Delilah though. What exactly were you thinking about?” If she’s having second thoughts about working with me on-air then I’m going to find out why—even if that means the P.R. push goes down the drain. We’ll figure that out later. What matters right now is fixing whatever happened between us, because I haven’t felt the way I feel for her in… ever.

“Seriously?” Her face turns a bright shade of red. “You… I wasn’t…”

I throw both hands up in the air smacking the boom stand holding the microphone in front of my face. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say it was probably just her thinking about how it’s been years since I’ve been home. So long, in fact, that I hadn’t seen my parents’ home since they bought it until I showed up a few days ago needing a place to stay. I’m just guessing that when I said loyalty, she immediately thought of all the ways I haven’t been loyal to anyone in my life. Anyone, except my daughter.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” she says, turning to face me and pulling the mic in front of her. “I was only thinking about the different meanings of the word loyal and how loyalty looks when someone lives on the road.”

“What?”

Mike flicks the switch to take another call. “I think she’s got a good point there.”

“I—”

He holds up one hand. “Caller, you’re up. What do you think? Does loyalty look different when you’re on the road?”

The caller squeals before answering the question. Fans. Sigh. “Nah. Loyalty is loyalty. Where you live or what you’re doing doesn’t change that. It’s the code you live by.”

“Fair enough,” Mike says as he hangs up the line. “How about you, caller?”

“Seems like he’s building himself up as a partner, or at least that’s what I got out of his earlier comments. If he’s a partner, then he should probably be available to help build the relationship from the roots up.”

“Roots.” Mike nods as he hangs up. “I think that’s what we’re talking about here. Jett, have you forgotten your roots?”

“Is this really what I signed up for?” I ask, holding my hands out in front of me. “I don’t think it is.”

“Maybe not, but we like to let the creativity flow here in Crossroads Country.” He gives me a smirk and shrugs. “Sorry, man. You started this discussion.”

“I have not forgotten my roots.” I turn to face Delilah who isn’t any happier now than she was before. “I’m sorry I misunderstood your expression earlier. Maybe…”

“Maybe you were having a case of guilty conscience and decided to dump it in my lap?”

“Maybe.” My response was in the mic, but it was meant for just her ears. “That’s we’re putting some roots back into the earth today, isn’t it? Loyalty. To the community. To the cause. To… each other?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she scoffs, folding both arms over her chest. “I thought that was just a way for you to get back at your label.”

Mike holds up both hands as a bell rings through the speakers. “That’s a wrap for Round One. I think I have a solution though. Let’s have our callers help you two settle this at the planting today. We’ll separate you into two groups. Team Delilah versus Team Jett. Whoever wins a.k.a. plants the most trees, gets to tell the world live and on-air exactly what the issues are here during the live show for the fundraiser.”

“I’m in.” If I win, I know exactly what I’ll be saying.

She bites her lip as she mulls it over. “In.”

“All right, callers. Stay tuned for the instructions on how to register to be part of the event today. Don’t forget to add #TeamDelilah or #TeamJett to your sign-up forms. We’re going to play one last song for you. Be good, but if you can’t be good take pictures and share them to #CrossroadsCountry.”

“And we’re out,” comes a voice from the control room.

Mike laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. “Well, I think that went well. Sorry about the drama, but drama makes excellent radio.”

I shrug and keep my eyes on Delilah as she walks out of the studio. I scramble along behind her. “I’m sorry. Please, just tell me how to fix it,” I beg, reaching for her hand.

She jerks it away and grabs her bag off the back of her chair, wrapping both hands around the shoulder strap so I can’t take her hand in mine. “Let’s just go, so we’re not late to our own event.”

CHAPTER TEN
DELILAH

We drove in complete silence the entire way to the event. Luckily, it was less than a twenty-minute drive to the location. The radio station did a fantastic job setting things up. It’s like a winter wonderland as we pull into the parking lot. Jett turns the car off and the first thing I hear is his Christmas song cover playing through the speakers of the van parked just a few feet up ahead, marked with the KCRM logo and radio call letters.

“Is that… Phoenix?” Jett leans forward and studies someone on the other side of the lot through the windshield. “I didn’t know he was coming to town.” He lets the seatbelt thump against the frame as he pushes his door open. “I’m going to go say hi and see what he’s doing here.”

That’s probably the best idea I’ve heard all day. A little breathing room would be nice. I pull out my phone and swipe the screen to send a text to Ally.

Delilah: We made it.

Ally: I heard the show. Are you okay?

Delilah: I’m fine. I just shouldn’t have let myself get so caught up in the moment.

Ally: Don’t blame yourself. You deserve to have hope and happiness and all the good things. My brother is a knucklehead who had a rough case of guilt that got the best of him.

Delilah: I could really have seen myself falling for him, Ally. It’s for the best.

Ally: Don’t talk like that.

Delilah: I’m serious. If that’s how he handles tough discussions and his own guilt, I don’t need that around my son.

I hit send on the last message and push myself out of the car, taking a deep breath of the cold winter air trying to get my mind back in the right place. This is important. It’s for the school. I can’t let anything distract me. The kids are counting on this. Counting on me.

Merry Mike and the rest of the production crew are gathered around a group of guys hovering. Jett slaps one of the guys on the back and motions for him to follow him back toward the car, where I am. I’m not in the mood for introductions, but I do my best to plaster on a fake smile. “Dude, she was cute though,” I hear the one walking beside Jett say just as the music winds down.

“You’re hopeless,” Jett says with a snicker. He’s so passive about it, it makes my nerves clench in my stomach even more. If that’s how he feels about relationships it’s none of my business, but it’s good to know how casual he seems to take them.

“Can I have her number?” The other guy asks.

“No way,” Jett shakes his head. “She left knowing you were there. If she wanted you to have her number, she would’ve given it to you. Anyway,” he smiles in my direction, “this is Delilah. Delilah this is Phoenix. I’ve known this guy for years.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, reaching out to take the hand Phoenix extends in greeting. “You’re in the band with Jett?” I ask, assuming I should probably already know that but I don’t really follow the people behind the music. I just listen to what I like.

Phoenix smiles and nods. “Since day one.” He goes back to looking at Jett, but this time he seems to fold in on himself as if he’s begging. “You’re her brother, though. Help a guy out.”

Oh. The pieces of the puzzle start rearranging themselves in my mind and I realized the new guy is trying to ask Jett’s sister out, which is a hard no or so it would seem. Let it go, I remind myself. I need to keep my focus on the task at hand.

“And we’re live in three . . . two . . .,” The producer interrupts, throwing his fingers up in the air while counting down. “One . . . and go.” He gives the signal to Merry Mike who doesn’t miss a beat.

“Welcome back to the Crossroads Country. We’re out here with Jett Jericho spreading some love and planting some roots.” He puts one arm around me and pulls me in toward the microphone. “We’ve also got Delilah here, who’s going to be leading our first team of tree planters. What’s your goal for today, Delilah?”

“I just want to see the community come together and do something to help the environment here today.” I would also like to know why Mister Hollywood decided to act out on air and blame me for his own guilt, but that seems like an issue for another time.

“Jett,” he motions him over to the microphone, “what would you like to accomplish here today?” 

“To raise enough money for the school that I don’t have to go on a blind date at the end of the week.”

Mike laughs into the microphone as he waves his hands over his head calling everyone to gather round. There’s a large crew of people all wearing green t-shirts with the radio logo topped off with a little Santa cap over the K in KCRM. “It’s time to break up into teams. Everyone on this side of the line goes with Delilah. Everyone on this side,” he waves his arm in the opposite direction, “is with Jett. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” we both say in unison.

“All right, each team has exactly two hours to plant as many trees as they can. We’ll meet back here at the sound of the bell for the official count. The winner gets to air all their dirty laundry on our show at the event. Sounds good?”

The crowd bursts into cheers.

“The timers are set,” Mike says, flicking his finger in the air. “It’s time to… go!”

Jett and Phoenix grab the biggest flats completely full of sprouted trees. I can only guess how heavy those are. “I’m going to just use this little trolly, because I cannot do that.” I say, pointing to the bundles they’re balancing on their shoulders.

One of the crew members chuckles and nudges me in the side. “We’re here to help you with that, ma’am.”

“Thank you! I need these,” I motion to a stack of containers, “spread out between rows ten-through-twenty.”

I hold my camera up in front of me to get a video of the action for the channel, but instead of seeing the crew systematically dispersing trees to be planted I see Jett and Phoenix getting tangled up in each other’s feet and landing in a pile on top of their load of tree flats. I laugh out loud when Phoenix pushes himself off Jett and looks back over his shoulder. “I totally caught that on camera. Just so you know,” I shout over the sound of the chaos around us.

Delilah: *Image uploading* Eye candy for you. BTW this guy was asking Jett for your number. He didn’t give it to him.

Ally: …

The timer goes off and a chime that makes me think of an old school bell sounds off through the field where we’ve been planting as an all too familiar voice comes over the speakers. “And that’s the time, folks,” Mike announces. “It’s time to come back, so we can declare our winner.”

Jett is pushing a trolley full of empty flats and Phoenix is draped over the side waving his hands in the air like a kid on their first carnival ride. Jett drops the handle when they reach the checkpoint, letting Phoenix keep rolling toward the radio station van.

I burst out with laughter. “Aren’t you going to stop him?”

“He’ll be fine.” 

Phoenix apparently realizes he’s free rolling down the slight incline because he screeches and scrambles to jump off. “I could’ve died, you know.” He throws his hands up over his head.

Jett shakes his head. “Nah, the van would’ve caught you.”

He grumbles the whole way back up to where we’re standing waiting for the results.

“He must keep things pretty entertaining on the road,” I admit.

Jett’s smile disappears as he takes a step closer to me. “Can we talk about what happened back at the station?”

I shake my head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Please?”

“We need to get over to the judging circle, so we can wrap this up.”

He grabs my hand as I try to turn and walk toward where Merry Mike is waiting for us.

“They’ve got to count the number actually planted. We’ve got time. They just sent the judges out a few seconds ago.”

Great.

“I’m sorry I reacted that way,” he says, reaching for my hand again. I let him take it this time as I glance up, my eyes meeting his. For some reason, I actually believe him. “I really don’t know why I got so upset. I think I’m just mad at myself.”

My jaw clenches as I try not to read too much into his words. “About what?”

“Everything,” he says, rubbing his chin with one hand and stuffing the other one in his pocket. “Mostly about being a selfish moron for so many years.”

“You mean completely ignoring the fact you had a family back here wanting to see you?”

“Uh-huh,” Jett mumbles under his breath. “Do you know this week was the first time I ever saw my parents house?”

“Oh, yeah?” I try to sound surprised, but I’m not. “Actually, I knew that,” I admit through gritted teeth.

“Delilah,” his tone drops and sends a shiver up my spine. “This whole conversation started over the word loyalty, didn’t it?”

I make a fifty-fifty gesture with my hand. “That sounds… right. To be honest, I don’t remember. The whole thing turned into a bit of a blur.”

“I haven’t done much to give you any reason to think I could ever be that type of guy,” he says, leaning down so that his mouth brushes against my ear. “I would like to change that if you’re willing to give me a chance.”

I open my mouth to tell him that he doesn’t need to apologize or prove anything to me, but he stops me.

With one hand gently resting against my mouth to keep me from speaking next, he says, “Please, let me finish.” Slowly removing his hand from my mouth, his smile returns. “I am an insufferable idiot more than half the time, but I would really like to get to know you better.” He leans in closer.

I open my mouth to speak, but his lips are close enough I taste them against mine.

“The final counts are in,” Mike’s voice booms overhead, interrupting the moment. “It’s time to call our winners.”

“I guess we better get to the circle, huh?” I say with a smirk, pulling back just enough to put a little distance between our bodies.

His jaw clenches, but he nods in agreement. “I guess so.”

“Here are our two team leaders now,” Mike says, running up to us with the microphone. “We’ve been looking for you. Come on. It’s time to call the winners.” He leads the way back to the center of the commotion with the crowd growing just on the other side of the barriers, which had been set up by the security team. “Team Jett has won with four-hundred-twenty-seven trees.” He holds Jett’s hand up in victory as the crowd cheers. “Team Delilah gave them a run for their money though with three-hundred-ninety-eight trees.”

“Thank you, Mike.” Jett leans over into the microphone. “We couldn’t have done all this without the amazing community team effort. Both teams are winners today.”

“Speaking of winners,” Mike interrupts. “We’ll see you at the charity event where you’ll announce the lucky lady who gets her dream date with Jett Jericho.” Mike signals his producer to cut the audio. “Great job, you guys. This was a lot of fun and you did a great thing for our community here. I’m looking forward to the charity show.”

Right. That. I’m not sure I’m prepared to see some fan hanging off his arm on a romantic holiday fantasy date. Ugh.

Jett took me first to his parent’s house where Levi had been with Tatum. The pull of making Christmas cookies and playing with Benji had been too much for him to resist when Jett’s mother had asked if he wanted to stay while we went to the station. After that he dropped us off at our car, which had been left downtown. It’s been a long day and I was more than happy and relieved to walk through my front door.

The first thing I did was wash off my make up and throw my hair into a very unattractive bun on top of my head. I dug out my favorite reindeer printed fleece pajamas and snuggled into them. Levi went straight to bed, exhausted from his day of playing and baking. I peeked through the crack in the door to make sure he was resting peacefully and when I saw he was, I decided to curl up on the living room sofa with a pint of ice cream and binge watch some of my favorite corny holiday movies. I needed something to take my mind off Jett Jericho and all the tension heaped on us throughout the day.

I barely tap the play button to start the movie and I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. There are only a handful of people who would come by this late at night and I knew Ally would be cuddled up on her own sofa instead of on the other side of my door. I looked through the hole in the door to find Jett’s eyes looking back at me. “Ah!” I jump back, startled from the way his eye had looked so huge in the peephole. I frown at the way my heart starts to beat faster, thumping rapidly inside my chest. These are a lot of feelings for someone I barely know. I reach out to unlock the deadbolt but leave the chain locked, cautiously pulling the door open. “What are you doing here?” Without even saying hello.

“Uh,” he drags one hand down the back of his neck, gripping it tight. “I’m sorry. I probably should’ve called or text instead, but I just wanted to see you.”

“You just dropped me off thirty minutes ago.” That truth makes me just as nervous as it makes it feel elated. I’m undeniably attracted to this man and he wanted to see me again even though we just spent the entire day together.

He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but clamps it shut again.

“Jett,” I say, leaning against the door frame and letting it hold the weight of my body because the exhaustion of the day is setting in. “I’m really tired.”

“Okay,” he says, swallowing hard. “I’ll go. But…”

“But what?”

“Can I ask you a question first before I go?”

“Sure.”

“Will you go out with me tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Or another night if you’re not free tomorrow. It’s kind of late notice. Any day, really. I’m sorry, I’m rambling now.”

“You are rambling.”

“So,” he looks at me with hope shining out through his eyes, “will you?”

“Will I go out with you?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “I will go out with you.”

“You will?”

I nod.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay.” His smile widens, until all of his teeth are showing. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow around seven?”

“See you then.”

“Goodnight,” he says, starting to walk away but turning back to quickly glance in my direction again.

“Goodnight Jett.” I slowly let the door close and lean my head against the door frame once it does. Jett Jericho just asked me out on a date and I said yes.

“Are you sure this dress looks… okay?” I ask Ally, as I study my reflection in the mirror. The soft velvety fabric grazes against my fingertips as I smooth out the few wrinkles that popped up when I slipped the dress on.

“You are beautiful,” she says, tugging my hair out of the neckline and laying the loose curls over my shoulders. “And it looks beautiful on you.”

“Who knew I’d ever actually have a reason to wear it?”

“Somehow Past You knew that Future You would end up with a rock star waiting downstairs to take you out on the town.” She gives me a sideways smirk as she looks through the jewelry laying on top of my dresser, which I had pulled out to go through hoping something would go with this dress. I’ve never been the type to dress fancy or over the top, so I wasn’t sure there would be anything worthwhile in the mix but it was worth looking through the mix to be sure. “These would compliment that neckline beautifully,” she says, holding up a gold necklace and a pair of hoops, each accented with a single red stone. “And the garnet on this necklace will bring out those plaid insets.”

“Are the insets too much? It might be too much.”

Ally gasps and holds her hand over her mouth. “I love the plaid. It feels perfectly festive.” She clasps the necklace closed around my neck for me. “Besides, Jett happens to love holiday colors.”

I swat at her like I’m shooing away a fly. “Stop teasing me.” I can practically feel the heat flooding my face right now. “You’re the one who said I should give him a chance.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” She stands back and shoots a knowing look in my direction, as she gives the outfit a final onceover. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ally. But I’m serious, this can’t go anywhere. It’s just…”

“A date?”

“Yeah. Just a date. People go on dates all the time. It doesn’t have to lead to anything more.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself, but either way… “Well?” I ask, holding my arms out to the side. “Am I ready?”

She smiles and gives me a gentle hug. “You’re absolutely lovely and you’re definitely ready.”

It feels like that was about more than the dress, so I scowl at her as I pull back and double check myself in the mirror. I do look ready, but the pounding inside of my chest feels tells me I am most definitely not ready for Jett or this… date. I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry about Levi. We’re going to watch Home Alone and have hot cocoa. I’ll take good care of him. And you… will have an amazing time,” she says, shooing me toward the door.

“I know,” I sigh, grabbing my bag off the dresser by the door and flinging the strap over my shoulder. “I’m just…”

“You’re nervous,” she says with understanding and skepticism in her voice.

“Maybe a little.”

“Of Jett?”

“Ally, I don’t know him very well. He’s famous. And… he’s my best friend’s brother. What if things don’t end well. I would lose more than just my date for the night.”

“You will never lose me, Delilah. If things don’t work out between you and my brother I’ll put my foot up his backside but I most definitely will not abandon you or be angry with you.”

“Promise?”

She holds her hand up in the scout’s honor sign. “Promise,” she says, firmly then puts her hands against my shoulders nudging me through the door frame. “Go. He just might surprise you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of.

I take a deep breath and one step then another until I find myself at the top of the staircase. I’m a few minutes late, but judging by the look on his face when he turns around and sees me, that won’t matter much. He seems as frozen into place as I felt before Ally nudged me out of my room. I already knew he was handsome, but tonight that’s even more apparent. He’s in a tux that looks like it’s been tailored to perfection with a white shirt and a red bow tie that matches the color of my dress perfectly. He runs his hand through his hair as breath catches in my throat. “You look…,” his words trail off as his eyes slowly trail up my body, until his gaze meets mine. “Absolutely stunning,” he adds in almost a whisper.

“Thank you.” I feel the heat rising up my cheeks as I blush. “You look pretty great yourself” I swallow hard and do my best to push away the nerves building in the pit of my stomach. “I have to admit, you keep surprising me.”

“Me?” he asks, pointing at himself.

I nod. “Yes, you,” I laugh, reaching up and adjusting his bow tie so it’s sitting evenly. “You really are more of a Christmas spirit type of guy than I gave you credit for. Aren’t you?”

He tucks his head as rose color spreads across his cheeks. “Maybe.” He gives me a lop-sided smile as he glances back at me that makes my stomach flip. I wobble even though I’m standing still, but he reaches out and steadies me quickly.

“Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” I say through a forced grin. “Just not used to these shoes.” I am not falling for Jett Colson. Am I?

CHAPTER ELEVEN
JETT

The drive into Denver didn’t quite seem long enough. Actually, I spent the entire time wishing it could be longer. I’ve never had that feeling before. Most of the time when I’m around other people I can’t wait to get back home and hibernate to recover from all the energy it takes out of me. Call it the introvert in me, but tonight… there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Being around Delilah doesn’t take energy out of me, her presence energizes me. She makes me feel alive in a way that being on stage and playing for thousands of fans never has.

We pull into the lot and I quickly realize I had been right to call ahead with reservations. Something told me with the holiday approaching and being in a town most deem a winter escape, it might get a little busy tonight. Looks like I was right.

“This place is…,” her words drift away as she glances up, taking in the winter wonderland-esque themed restaurant. Soft white lights draped from the roof twinkle as they drape gracefully from the roof, casting a warm glow over the entrance.

“Beautiful,” I add, but I’m not talking about the restaurant. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from saying anything more. The way she ducks her head into my shoulder makes me believe she picked up on my meaning and I’m glad she did.

“It’s really packed here,” she says, sounding deflated as we step inside. Holiday music fills the space mixed with the sounds of people chatting as they wait for a table to open up. “Do you think we should pick a different spot? It’ll be ages before we’re seated.”

“Hello,” a thirty-something blonde with a chic holiday themed uniform says. “Welcome to Jingle! We’re all full for tonight, unless you have a reservation.”

I hold up one hand. “I called ahead for Colson.”

“Oh!” she says, glancing through her notes on the other side of the hostess stand. “Looks like we have your table ready for you. Right this way.” She grabs two menus and motions for us to follow, which we do. It’s definitely busy and the food smells delicious. Each table we pass has something different on it, which I think I might need to try tonight. It’ll be hard to decide. “Merrick will be serving you this evening. In the meantime, what can we get you to drink? Peppermintini? Eggnog?”

“I’d just like a cranberry ginger ale,” Delilah says.

“That sounds good,” I admit, scanning the drink menu. “I’ll have the same.”

“Coming right up,” she says, spinning on her heel heading back toward the kitchen area.

The holiday music playing overhead comes to an abrupt stop, followed by a collective rush of excitement from the audience.

“What’s going on?” Delilah asks, cringing in her seat like she’s bracing for impact.

I shake my head and look over both shoulders one after the other to see if I can tell what’s happening. “No idea,” I admit. “The guests seem to be excited about it though,” I add, turning to catch a clear view of the stage area where someone is tugging on cords and appears to be trying to set up when a loud screech comes through the speakers overhead.

The crowd groans.

“That was brutal,” Delilah says with a light-hearted chuckle.

“I barely noticed it,” I laugh.

“The musician’s life, huh?”

“Something like that. What do you think they’re setting up for?” It can’t be big, since there’s only one person up there. It doesn’t look like he has any musical equipment either, so it’s not likely a singer and songwriter night.

“Oh!” Delilah sits straight up in her seat with more excitement in her eyes than I’ve seen on anyone in a long time. Her smile when she glances back at me feels like it might be exactly what my life has been missing this entire time. I can’t help but feel complete when I look at her. “Maybe it’s karaoke night.” She bounces just slightly in her seat and claps her hands together quickly.

Please, no. “I really hope not,” I say, laughing and rubbing my temples.

“Aw, don’t tell me you still get stage fright. Something tells me there isn’t a shy bone in your body.”

“No,” I chuckle and shake my head. “It’s not that.”

“What is it?”

“It’s just…” I sigh. “I don’t want anyone to recognize me tonight.”

“Oh,” she lets out a sigh that makes my heart fall to the floor.

My hand clenches at my side. “It’s not that I wouldn’t enjoy it. I just want tonight to be about getting to know each other and not how many autographs I can sign before we leave.”

She reaches across the table to rest her hand on mine, sending a spark of electricity through my veins. “Just don’t let them give me the mic then you won’t have to dodge fans tonight.”

“Hello everyone! Happy holidays!” the guy on the stage says through the mic. “It’s open mic night. Who’s ready?”

The crowd cheers and a few whistles even come from the other side of the pub. A sinking feeling takes over as I watch Delilah’s eyes growing wider. She’s going to sign us both up. I just know it.

“Who’s ready to kick things off?” he asks, scanning the crowd from the stage. Lots of hands go up, but he seems to zero in on Delilah and without even a split second of hesitation, a staff member shows up handing us a microphone and a tablet with a music catalog pulled up on it. “Pick your song. The lyrics will display on screen once it starts.”

Delilah snags the tablet and starts scrolling through the options with her smile growing wider with every scroll of the page. “Are you sure you don’t want to sing with me,” she asks, leaning in so she can whisper and not be overheard.

I shake my head and take a sip of my drink, which was dropped off with the tablet. “Not tonight.” I am in deep trouble.

“This one!” she exclaims, tapping the screen to select a song. “It’s my absolute favorite.”

I don’t want to ruin her fun. “Let’s do it,” I say, doing my best to hide the fact I’m absolutely not looking forward to this. The music begins to flow through the speakers and I immediately know which song she chose. It’s one I’ve heard at least a thousand times in my lifetime. It’s also my mother’s favorite holiday song.

“Silent night. Holy night.” The pub goes quiet after the first note. Her voice is mesmerizing. I had heard her sing in the car after they picked me up from the airport but that was just goofing around. There’s something special in her tone tonight that takes my breath away. “All is calm.”

I really should be paying attention to where we’re at in the song if I’m supposed to jump in, but all I can think about is how soft and smooth her voice is as it dances through the room.

“All is bright.” She glances at me, letting me know this is where she wants me to jump in.

“Round yon Virgin. Mother and Child.” My voice pales in comparison but at least this is a song I know and can fumble my way through even if I’m completely distracted by her. “Holy infant, so tender and mild.”

“Sleep in heavenly peace,” her voice joins mine and the harmony sends a chill down my spine. The rest of the song goes by with me locked in that moment, not wanting to let go of the perfect melody between the two of us. She holds the final note sending goosebumps sprouting on my skin as the hairs stand on the back of my neck. I glance over my shoulder to see the crowd’s reaction. They’re just as captivated with her as I am. I knew there was more to her than what I already knew. Of course, there would be. But I had no idea she was hiding something as beautiful as that voice.

“That was really lovely,” the same woman who dropped off the tablet says when she returns to pick it up.

Delilah blushes as she passes the device back to her. “Thank you.”

“She’s right,” I say, pointing over my shoulder to the crowd. “Look at them.”

She glances in the direction I’m pointing. “Oh, my goodness.” Her hands fly up to her mouth. “This is one reason why I would never be able to do what you do for a living. I can’t stand having all those eyes on me,” she whispers, ducking down like she’s trying to hide from them all.

I try to cover my laughter with my hand but fail miserably. “How can you belt out a song like that with no fear, but then try to hide when it’s over. What’s going on with that?”

She makes a grimace as she reaches for her drink. “I guess it’s because I love the music.”

“But can’t stand the people?”

“Basically,” she says, taking a sip of her cranberry mocktail.

I understand that better than anyone could imagine. “Where’d you learn to hit those notes?”

“I was in choir through high school, but gave it up when I realized I couldn’t stand performing in front of people unless…”

“Unless it’s open mic night at a restaurant where you’re probably never going to see anyone again?”

“Exactly,” she says with a laugh that sets my soul on fire.

“You could perform for the benefit this weekend and absolutely bring the house down.”

She shrugs. “You and your magical holidate will be the focus of the evening. No need to ruin that with me fumbling around on the stage.” The way her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting makes my breath catch in my throat.

I am not falling for Delilah Woodward. Am I? I already know the answer to that and it’s a resounding yes.

The drive back home was just as easy as the drive to the restaurant. There was a comfortable silence between us. Not because we didn’t have anything to say to one another, but because no words needed to be said. There was an easy understanding between the two of us. “Thank you for asking me to sing with you tonight,” I say, pulling the car into her driveway.

“I’m glad you did,” she says with a hint of something in her tone, which I can’t quite figure out.

I drag my hand down the back of my neck as I struggle to find the words I want to say next. “It’s more than that though.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, suddenly turning in her seat to face me. 

I turn the car off and hop out, making my way to her side of the car. When I open her door, there’s a sudden gust of wind that makes her rub her arms. “Are you cold?” I slip my coat off and reach out to wrap it around my shoulders as she climbs out of the car. “May I?”

She bites her lip as she nods just barely. “Thank you,” the way her voice hitches in her throat makes it come out in almost a whisper. “It didn’t feel this cold earlier. I would’ve brought a heavier coat.”

I feel my lips pursed together and my eyebrows angling straight down as I try to figure out what to say next.

“What did you mean about it being more than that?” she asks, giving me the nudge I need.

I hesitate and suck in a sharp breath. “Singing with you tonight helped me realize that my fans aren’t the ones defining my life and boxing me into a cage. It’s me. I’m the one doing that. I had been afraid to sing with you because I was afraid of what would happen if I did.”

“So why did you?”

“Why did I sing with you?”

She nods.

“Because I wanted to share that moment with you. I wanted to be part of the reason you were smiling.”

A perfect shade of red tints her cheeks. “I always smile when I’m around you.”

“Is that a fact?” I can’t help but feel like I’ve just won a victory lap with that admission.

She nods again, glancing up at me through her eyelashes. “It is.”

My stomach flips and electricity shoots off in every direction through my veins as I walk her to the door. It feels like when you’re on a roller coaster looking down. You know the drop is coming and you can’t wait for it because it’s the exact rush you’ve been craving. I reach up, letting my fingers gently brush a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Goodnight, Delilah,” I whisper, afraid my voice might break the moment. Not wanting to pull my hand back, instead I let my touch linger as she smiles up at me.

“Goodnight, Jett,” she says, pushing her door open and stepping inside. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the fundraiser.” Her smile doesn’t fade as she gently closes the door. I wait until it’s fully shut and I can hear her footsteps padding deeper into the house before I turn to leave.

I slide back behind the wheel of my parents’ car thinking how lucky I am to have come home to my family for Christmas and how foolish I had been to wait so long. This holiday might turn out to be one for the record books after all. 

Bright LED headlights blind me from the other side of the street as I drive away from Delilah’s home and back towards my parents’ home. A song blossomed to life in my mind as I drove. The melody and the chords are as vivid and real as if I were playing them. Better pull over, I tell myself. As soon as I come to a stop on the road’s shoulder, I reach into the glove compartment and rummage around looking for anything I might be able to write the lyrics and chord progression down on. My fingers find a few napkins, probably from a night of take-out, stuffed into the corner of the glovebox. “That’ll work,” I say to myself as I try to find something to write on it with when I remember my mom keeps a lipstick in the drop down storage compartment where most people keep their sunglasses. I tap the button and sure as the rain in April, a lipstick falls out and lands on the passenger seat. Words pour out of me onto the napkins written in my mother’s favorite shade of red. It only seems like a few minutes have passed but when I glance up at the clock I realize I must’ve been sitting there on the side of the road for at least an hour. I had been too caught up in the moment to notice time passing. A quick scan of what I’ve written down on the brown take-out napkins looks good, but I won’t be sure until I can get home and test it out with my guitar. I throw the car into drive and hit the gas, afraid to waste any time or the creative spark might disappear before I can lock the song in. This one is too important to take any chances on.

By the time I finish running through the song and making my adjustments, the warm glow of the morning sun is streaming through the window of the upstairs room my parents labeled as mine. It has all the same furnishings my old room in their old house had, but it hadn’t felt the same. At least, not until now.

Ally knocks once and pushes my door open. “Coffee?” she asks, handing me a mug of black coffee. The same brew my mother always made. I take a sip and the warm nostalgia washes over me. Maybe this is home, now.

“What…” I narrow my eyes at her and strain to see what she’s holding behind her back. “What are you hiding?”

Her smile widens as she brings a garment bag out from behind her back and holds it up. The bag is a solid color but there’s a small clear plastic window in the upper right hand corner. The bright green velvety fabric peeking out through it is enough for me to already know I’m not going to like this.

I reluctantly reach out and take the garment, covered by the bag, and lay it down on the bed. Slowly, I pull down the zipper until the extremely festive holiday eyesore is fully displayed before me. “No way, Ally!” I say, shielding my eyes with my hands from the horrors. “I want to look in season, but not like one of Santa’s elves.”

“You’re wearing it,” she scoffs, marching over to where I’m standing and holding the costume up to me. “I might have to wear one too,” she adds, throwing it over my shoulder and nudging me into my bathroom where I am expected to change for the fundraiser. 

My jaw drops open as I nearly throw my neck out, turning to glare at her over my shoulder. “Why do I have to dress like an elf?”

“Come on,” she says with a hint of laughter in her tone. “It’s for the kids.”

I shake my head and lock my feet to the ground, refusing to move as she shoves against me with all her strength.

Grunting, she pushes harder against my back, digging her heels into the floor to get any leverage she can. “Delilah would love it.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Why not?” she asks, pulling back as I turn to face her. The expression on her face says she already knows she’s won.

Ugh!” I groan and throw my head back against the bathroom door I’m leaning against. “Fine.”

She tilts her head and gives me a deadpan glare.

I close the door and start changing into the costume. I have to admit, it is fun. It might not be so bad.

“So,” she calls out through the closed door, “it was late when you two got back last night.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not judging you,” she laughs. “I’m rooting for you and Delilah to get together.”

The sound of her name sends a fresh wave of electricity through my core as last night replays in my mind. I can almost feel her breath against my skin, as if she’s still standing there in front of me with her bright eyes shining up at me. “There is… something special about her,” I admit.

“Ah, I knew it!” she practically squeals and I hear what sounds like her jumping up and down in front of the door. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what?”

She clears her throat and looks up with the smile still on her face. “I just want you both to be happy, and I think you both make each other happy.”

“Oh.” Delilah’s smile flashes in my mind as I pull the red and white striped tights off the hanger and attempt to wedge myself into them. “This is… a little tight, sis.”

She snorts and it sounds like she’s trying to keep herself from going into full cackling laughter. “You’ll be fine.”

I tug the coat on and pull the red stocking cap over my head, looking at myself in the mirror. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I groan as I pull the door open.

Ally’s standing there ready to inspect her handiwork as soon as I open the door. “It’s perfect,” she screeches as she claps her hands together in excitement.

“I. Hate. You.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, turning on her heel and scrambling back to my room. “But you forgot something,” she adds, calling out over her shoulder.

I glance back at myself in the mirror, scanning the costume up and down. “What could I have possibly forgotten? I look like a moldy peppermint.”

Her head pops out around the door frame of my room and grins. “These,” she says, holding up a pair of ridiculously long bright red shoes that curl on the end. 

“I’m not wearing those.”

“Yes, you are.” She smiles wide as she taps the bell on the tip of one of the shoes, sending the twinkling sound echoing through the house.

CHAPTER TWELVE
DELILAH

When we arrive at the venue, the crowd is already swarming through the gates, even though we’re several hours early. When I spoke to Jett earlier today, he mentioned the press would want to speak with us before the show started. I’m sure that’s another reason I was concerned about what I was going to wear today. It wasn’t because I expect to meet Jett here later. I’m going to be on several local news stations promoting the cause and telling people they need to come out for the event. Jett’s face floats through my mind and I swat it away with the imaginary leopard print flip-flop my brain’s version of me is holding. I refuse to let myself get sidelined by a man right now, even one as handsome as Jett Colson. It’s not often I meet a man who can catch my attention, especially since my husband died. Not to mention how infrequent it is to meet a man who is absolutely amazing around Levi. I might be overprotective, so that’s a very hard box for any man to check-off and I’m not sorry.

But… Jett checks every single box on Delilah’s Dream Man list. I still can’t let myself get distracted. I have way too much going on with the school and Levi and…

I’m lying to myself.

I’m afraid. I almost didn’t recover when Levi’s father died and I’m not sure I ever want to put myself in a position where I’m that wrapped up in someone else—ever again—and I could see myself getting very wrapped up very quickly in Jett Colson.

In fact, I already am. That’s the problem. 

The sound of the PA system powering up, complete with screeches echoing through the open-air arena, shakes me out of my mental argument with myself. Levi laughs and covers his ears as he raises his voice over the piercing sound of the malfunctioning audio. “Someone must’ve gotten loose behind the controls.”

“Delilah!” a familiar voice calls out. I scan the area until I see Mira from Amaryllis Records, waving us over from behind the backstage area. “Thank goodness you got here early. The press pit is already swarming.”

I pretend to know what she’s talking about and nod my head. It seems reasonable to assume she’s just talking about a few local reporters waiting to scoop the story from each other. Levi and I can’t help but crane our necks as we gawk at the infrastructure behind the scenes. We pass the side-stage area where the technicians are setting up the music equipment. She leads us through an intricate maze of metal fencing and blackout curtains separating sections of the backstage area. “It’s weird to think that just a few days ago we were planning to hold this fundraiser in the school’s gymnasium,” I admit, still struggling to take everything in.

Levi laughs as his little eyes shine bright, scanning one end of the venue to the next. “This is so much better!” he screeches.

Mira holds her hand up, signaling us to stop in front of a blocked off area labeled Press Pit. The name is funny enough, but the vector art graphics of serpents crawling across the paper that’s pinned make me laugh. Mira must’ve noticed my attention lingering on the sign. “Don’t worry. Travis, one of the founding members of Amaryllis Records, just likes to have a little fun tormenting his wife, who also happens to be a member of the press.” Go figure. I keep my thoughts to myself on that one. He sounds like he’s a complete handful and I don’t envy the woman who puts up with him twenty-four hours a day, but I’m guessing there’s never a dull moment. Mira opens the door to the press area and Ally’s face greets me first. “It’s about time you show up,” she teases, giving me a hug.

“You know, if my friend had answered their phone so I could have my mini-meltdown, I would’ve been here a half-hour ago.”

“Sorry,” she whispers in my ear. “I’ve been getting to know the band before we have to talk about them on camera.”

“You mean,” I motion with one finger toward the tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a goofy smile and jet black hair who I met at the radio sponsored tree planting the other day, “you’ve been getting to know Phoenix.”

“Maybe…” she admits as her cheeks redden. “You’re one to talk,” she says, jabbing me in the arm.

Huh? “What’s that mean?”

“You’ve been getting cozy with Jett and you know it,” she whispers in my ear. “We’ve been friends for years. You’re supposed to tell me important things, like when you’re falling for a mega rock star who just also happens to be my brother.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, feeling my chest caving in on me. I’m not sure if the sudden pressure in my chest is from her putting me on the spot or me trying to convince myself that my words are true.

Her eyebrows pinch together as she pulls back just enough to look me in the eye, probably trying to decide if I’m pulling her leg or not, which I am not. “What’s going on, Delilah?”

I shake my head, feeling Levi’s grip on my hand tightening like he’s trying to pull me away from the conversation.

Levi stands in front of me and nudges me toward where Jett is standing completely decked out in an Elf costume. I can’t help but smile when I look at him, but I’m sure that’s just from the absurdity of the costume he’s wearing. I recognize two people standing beside him from the five o’clock news. “Mom, I think we should be over there. Let’s go,” Levi says, grabbing my hand and tugging on me.

“Just a minute,” Ally says, pulling back on my arm, causing me to stumble backwards bumping into her. “Are you okay?” 

I do my best to keep a straight face and pretend I’m not riddled with stress and worry mixed with the feeling of standing at the top of a cliff and looking down everytime Jett glances my direction and his eyes meet mine. “I’m fine.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth and puts one arm around my shoulders. “Delilah,” she says with a slight sigh of understanding. “I know it hurt. I can’t even imagine,” she says, putting her free hand over her heart.

She’s right. No one can know what that pain felt like until they live through it.

“I do know that he would want you to be happy and to not stay locked in a single moment for the rest of your life.”

She’s right about that too. “What if I’m not strong enough to move forward?”

“You are,” she says, squeezing me tightly around the shoulders. “But only when you’re ready. Don’t let him or anyone else pressure you to do anything until you know you’re ready and it’s what you want.”

I can’t find the words to respond. It’s not Ally’s fault. Not in the slightest, but I can’t deal with the emotional wave rolling through me right now. My hand quivers as I reach up to brush a stray piece of hair away from my face. “I don’t know anything, right now.” I haven’t felt this confused or mixed up in a very long time. “Other than the fact that we have an event to start and I’m late for the first press piece.”

“Delilah! Ally!” Mira calls and waves us over to where she’s standing in the makeshift room’s corner, next to Jett and the reporters I recognize. “We’re ready.”

I’ve been lying to him this entire time.

Making him think this could actually go somewhere.

This entire time.

Even if I wanted it to, it couldn’t.

Not after what happened to Levi’s father. If I’m not supposed to stay locked in a single moment, how could I be with someone who travels for a living when his father died in a plane crash on his way home from a business trip? I couldn’t. I’d be afraid of losing him every time he left for work. I don’t want to become one of those needy and clingy wives who complain every time their husband has to leave the home. That’s not the life I want. The fame? I could’ve handled that. I might have needed some time to adjust to it, but I could have done it and it wouldn’t have even been that big of a deal. 

“We’re ready!” Mira’s voice breaks through my thoughts again. I take a deep breath and shake my head as I wave one hand in the air to signal, we’re coming.

“I’m sorry, Ally,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at my best friend as I head toward where Mira’s standing beside Jett. She’s obviously getting nervous. He’s smiling at me, making my heart flutter in my chest and goosebumps sprout all over my body but I can’t let him see the effect he has on me. It wouldn’t be fair to keep leading him on like that. “Jett,” I say, flatly as I stand beside him and shift so that I’m facing the cameras. It feels weird. My body is stiff as I do my best not to give into my urge to lean into him or let myself get swept away in his eyes. Even if that’s the only thing I truly want to do, right now. “Ready.” The sooner these press pieces are over the sooner I can get inside and away from this man before every bit of my resolve crumbles at my feet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning in letting his breath dance softly against the delicate skin behind my ear. 

I put on a fake smile and play my part as the school’s representative as best I can while I wait for the questions from the news reporters to start kicking in. “I’m fine.” I am absolutely not fine but there is less than a zero percent chance that I’ll admit it.

“Delilah, will you take the craft section and make sure it’s ready for the auction?” Mira asked after all of the interviews with the press were complete. Jett had caught on quickly and stopped asking me questions. In fact, he stopped addressing me altogether except for what was required for the press. I hated it. Tears were stinging the corners of my eyes and I wanted nothing more than to explain myself but that would only make it worse. What good would it be to tell him I had been falling for him when there was absolutely nothing to do about it. After the holidays he’s going back to his life at the top of the charts and that means traveling all over the world and I’ll be… here. “Delilah?” Mira prods, looking for an answer.

I shake my head to clear the fog and give her a nod. “Sure.”

“Thank you,” she says, checking something off on her tablet with a stylus. “I’m going to make sure the production crew is all set. Ally,” she adds, turning to face my friend, “you take the bake sale goods. We still need someone to decorate the gelato table. The vendor will be here later, but they asked that we decorate it before they arrive so they can just place their products in the setup.” She paused to take a breath and glanced down at the tablet in her hand then turned to leave.

I looked around attempting to see if I could identify anything that still needed done, but nothing registered. In fact, it all seemed to be frozen in place. The only thing I could see was Jett’s confusion etched across his face as he watched me from the other side of the backstage area. I’d sworn off love. Closed that season of life without a second of hesitation, until I met him. Now, everything I thought I believed so firmly about myself seemed to be withering away being replaced by a new version of myself I don’t know and I’m definitely not ready for. The PA system screeched, sending a chill down my spine as a collective groan went out from the crowd.

“Sorry about that, everyone,” Mira’s voice came through the microphone. “We’re just about ready to get started, so if everyone could gather here in the center for us we’ll be showing the prizes up for grabs with the auction on the screen behind me.” The crowd responded to her instructions by pushing themselves closer in toward the stage.

“I guess I better go check on the craft section,” I say, turning to walk away from Ally. I could feel her eyes on me as I made my way toward the vendor area, but as much as I want to make her understand there are no words to explain what’s going on inside of my mind right now. Or my heart. As Levi and I make our way to the craft vendor’s section, I hear him let out a low whistle and I turn to see what he’s looking at. It’s nothing in particular. He just seems to be scanning the crowd and the set up. “It’s pretty amazing, huh?”

He nods. “You made this happen, Mom.”

My eyebrows pinch together as I glance down at him. “I didn’t.”

He nods. “You did. If you hadn’t decided to look for a way to keep the school open then none of this would’ve happened.”

He’s right. I hadn’t looked at it that way but he’s right. A smile tugged at my mouth as a feeling of pride hit me. “We had a lot of help.”

“Maybe,” he says, tilting his little head. “But, they helped because you made them want to.”

His words hit me harder than he probably meant to but that’s exactly what had happened and it was what had happened with Jett too. I initiated something with him that I had no intention of following through on and he cares now because I made him want to care. If I hadn’t initiated that then he wouldn’t care now. A sick feeling grips me, souring my stomach. “This way,” I say, heading to the nearest vendor booth where a collection of beautiful handmade quilts are displayed. “These are beautiful,” I say, running my finger over the edging of the intricate quilts one of the patrons was donating. “They must have taken hours.”

A kindly woman with gray hair in tight curls steps out from behind the makeshift wall of her vendor station. “Each one takes about eighty hours.”

“Wow.”

“That doesn’t count the hours of mistakes made before I finally get it right.” Her eyes light up as she smiles. “But those moments are actually some of my favorites.”

“The mistakes?”

She nods. “Like that one there.” Her finger points to one of the more intricate designs being displayed. “I must’ve tried to get that stitch right for a solid month before I finally got it. Hours a day, everyday.”

“Why did you keep trying?”

“The end result was worth it, I think.”

She’s right. It’s beautiful and will certainly bring in a lot of money for the kids and the school. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble honey.” She pats me on the shoulder. “I wanted to give back to the community. I went to Crossroads. My kids went to Crossroads. Sometimes we all need a little nudge to get over the hurdles.” She turns and disappears behind the wall again as I study the beautiful and skillfully made handmade quilt hanging up just in front of me. The varying shades of purple create intricate designs against the stark white backdrop. Each block was crafted with a little girl, surrounded by tulips and wearing a bonnet. The block in the middle had the addition of a windmill as well, embroidered expertly. Breathtaking. “Well worth the effort,” I repeat her words to myself but I’m not talking about the quilts anymore.

Levi twists beside me, glancing back at the stage.

“What’s got everyone buzzing?” I ask, turning to see what was happening. 

He points his chin toward the stage where Jett was standing on stage with a guitar and a small microphone. I feel the lump forming in my throat and do my best to swallow it down, but the tears are already stinging the corners of my eyes. Ugh! I can’t believe I’ve let someone I barely know have this much power over me. What’s wrong with me? I yelled silently to myself. 

Ally runs up beside me with a sheepish grin on her face.

“What’s he doing?” I ask, turning to glance at her as she loops her arm with mine. “He’s not supposed to be up there yet.”

He begins to play one of his hit songs. One of my favorites. The tears slowly start to fall. One after the other. I’ve been such a fool to let myself believe there could’ve ever actually been a future between someone like me, with my roots firmly planted in this small town, and someone like him who clearly doesn’t have any roots planted anywhere. His eyes seem to be scanning the crowd and for a brief moment I think he might be looking for me. My heart catches in my chest as hope begins to swell, again. I force myself to look away but feel grounded to the spot where I’m standing. When I glance up I find his eyes locked onto mine. I want to run away but I can’t. The mixture of how he’s looking at me and how his voice dances through the air. He’s singing it with so much of his soul in his voice, it makes me want to hear more even if I know I should just turn and walk away right now.  As the final chord rings out, I turn to say goodbye to Ally.”

“Evening, folks,” his husky voice stops me in mid-turn. “First, I’d like to say thanks for coming out. Second, there’s been a slight change of plans for the evening,” his voice cracks as if nerves might be getting to him.

“What’s he doing?” I ask, leaning in and whispering in Ally’s ear.

She shrugs and glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “Going off script.”

“Does he do that a lot?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “I have no clue what he’s up to, just that he asked me to make sure you didn’t leave yet.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Whatever. You’re full of it.”

“About the win-a-date auction,” Jett continues from where he’s standing on stage. 

My chest clenches so tight I think I might be in need of medical attention. “The win-a-date with a rock star was our best bet at getting the money the school needs.”

“I can’t offer you a date with me. It just doesn’t feel… right.”

The crowd of his fans groan and sigh as my heart comes to a full stop inside my chest. “What is he doing, Ally?”

“Shooting his shot, I think,” she says with a grin that widens with every word.

“What I will be offering tonight is a special private concert for you and up to ten of your closest friends or family.”

The crowd cheers in response to his offer.

My breath catches in my throat as my mouth turns dry.

“I will also personally match whatever the school makes tonight, so get those dollars out of your pockets folks. It’s time to show up for the kids and this incredible teaching faculty. What do you say?”

“Jer-AH-co! Jer-AH-co!”

My heart swells with appreciation for the man who’s smiling at me from the stage. He’s going to match what we make? “Ally…”

“I know,” she says, smiling at me with one eyebrow arched. “That means we’ll not only have the total we needed, but maybe even a little more for other things too, like new equipment for the kids.”

I have to go say thank you for his generous donation, but then… I have to walk away. He might be a good person but he’s still going back on the road after the holidays and I would still be terrified he might not come home. I can’t live like that. I can’t ask him to live like that.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JETT

I sang my full set with my heart in my voice, hoping she’d hear my plea for a conversation in each song. I’d chosen each song specifically for her, hoping she would hear the message I was trying so hard to send her way. As we wrapped up the final song, I saw her turn from where she had been standing for the whole set next to my sister. She swiped a finger along her cheek just underneath her eye as she started to walk away. I have to talk to her before she leaves. Something in the pit of my stomach is telling me that if I wait I’ll miss my chance.

As the last note of the song rings out through the speakers, someone connects the overhead PA system to the local radio station sponsoring this whole event. Merry Mike’s voice comes through the speakers as I shake a few hands and force my way through the crowd. Several hands reach out with markers and my album covers, but I can’t sign autographs right now. I’ll have to catch them at the meet and greet table later. I have to find Delilah. Something happened that made her change how she acts around me. If I were a betting man, I’d wager it had something to do with tabloids but I haven’t seen anything come out recently and no one’s contacted me about any potential PR drama. I just don’t know what else it could’ve been. If we could just talk… 

Just when I start to think she’s left the venue altogether, I see her standing by a vendor’s display in the baked goods section. There is fudge in every flavor imaginable in small artisan style boxes surrounding the small booth with price tags on them. I make a mental note to come back and grab as much of the homemade candy as I could haul out of here. I never outgrew my sweet tooth like some do. Delilah’s eyes stay on me as I kept moving through the crowd, trying to reach her. Levi tugs on her arm and says something but I can’t make out what it is. She nods in response and he darts off to a group of kids who all appear to be around his same age. There are two adults with them who look like they’re probably members of the teaching faculty because of the way the kids respond to them when they speak. Familiarity and some level of authority. 

When I finally reach where she had been standing, she’s nowhere to be found. My stomach flips with a feeling of dread. I missed my chance. I lost her in the crowd. As I turn, straining my neck to scan the crowd for any sign of her, I see her. Sucking in a deep breath, I grab one of the small boxes from the booth. It’s labeled peppermint fudge with a fifteen-dollar tag on it. I leave a twenty on the counter and hold the box up, catching the vendor’s attention. She’s a woman who appears to be close in age to my mother and offers me a sweet smile, waving me on with my peppermint gift in hand. I tell myself it’s now or never and make my way over to her before I lose her again. “Trade five minutes of your time for what’s in this box?” I offer, hoping she’ll laugh or at least smile at me. I miss her smile. The one she shared with me last night and every day I’ve been here in Crossroads.

She glances around like she’s looking for somewhere, anywhere to run. Finally, she turns back to me with her eyes glistening. “You don’t have to give me anything but we do need to talk,” she says. “I heard what you said on stage. Thank you.”

“Which thing?” There were a couple of things I said up there and I was really hoping she understood why I changed the win-a-date to win-a-private-concert. It was because I wanted to be with her and didn’t want anything getting in the way of… us.

She hisses under her breath, immediately glancing up to see if anyone else had heard. I did but I don’t let on. “The… donation matching. Thank you.”

“Delilah,” I start but the words catch in the back of my throat. I don’t know what’s wrong so I don’t know what to say or how to fix it. “Did I do something wrong?”

The side of her nose wrinkles as she shakes her head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re a wonderful person.”

“But?”

She bites the inside of her cheek drawing it in like she’s trying to decide whether or not to answer my question. I don’t know if it’s the chaos of the crowd mixed with the noise coming through the PA system or the fact my heart feels like it’s about to pound itself right through my chest and into her hands but something like a switch flips inside my brain. “If it’s this life,” I swing my arms wide behind me to take in the crowd and the stage, “I hate it too.”

“You hate the music business?”

I tilt my head and drag one hand down the back of my neck as I try to find the words to say what I mean. “I hate the inauthenticity of it. The personas and the constant life on the road. Tatum needs somewhere to put roots down and I think… I do too.”

“Roots?”

I nod, swallowing down the hard lump trying to form in the back of my throat. “I’m just angry with myself that it took so long for me to realize it.”

Her eyes locked onto mine for what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably only a few seconds. “You’ll still have to be on the road though, right?”

I nod. “Yeah.” Even if I take Nigel up on his offer and talk to Amaryllis about signing with them, I’ll still have to tour. “But it would be more on my terms instead of just the label’s.”

Her lips parted just enough for me to tell she wanted to say something but no words came out. She ducked her head, tucking it into her shoulder. Is she… smiling? Crying? I can’t tell because her dark hair has fallen over her face, hiding her from my view. 

A mixture of emotions takes over me as I try to decide if I should stay or go. My feet absolutely refuse to move though, so I take that as my answer. If she tells me to leave, I will but not until then. My soul is screaming inside my body telling me not to walk away from her. Not now. Not ever. Not unless she tells me to. A slow song starts to play from the speakers and hope swells deep inside of me. “Care to dance?” I ask, extending my hand.

She glances up at me like she might actually be considering it and a spark sets off through my veins, but she doesn’t reach for my hand.

“Please?”

“Okay,” she finally answers, reaching out to take my hand with hers. When her fingers wrap around mine a feeling like jumping out of a plane and freefalling through the sky takes over my body. I pull her in close, breathing in the warm fresh scent of her hair as it tickles the tip of my nose. A sigh of relief escapes as I feel her relax into my arms. It feels good, having her in my arms. It feels right. My shoulders tense slightly when she looks up at me, but in that instant there’s a flame sparking. I can tell it burns for both of us. It’s in her eyes. She feels it too. I never believed the stories of what love could actually feel like. I’d always been a cynic in that department, even though Mom always said I’d know when I found the one. She’d told me I’d wake up one day, feeling as if I’d been hit with a frying pan and that all I’d be able to think about was the woman I couldn’t live without. That’s exactly how I feel right now. That’s how I’ve felt every day since I met Delilah.

“Jett,” she sighed my name as she rested her head on my shoulder. 

As we sway to the music, I feel myself being drawn to her. I lower my head just enough, but hesitate just short of feeling her soft lips against mine, waiting for her to decide if she wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss her. Just as I’m about to swallow my pride and pull myself back, she closes her eyes and what little distance there was left between us. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me even closer. I snake one arm around her waist pulling her body closer to mine as my other hand rests against the back of her neck. I could die happy in this moment with her, but the flash of a camera beside us catches both of our attention at the same time. “Come on, man, really?” I groan. How could the guy not have realized that was a moment that shouldn’t have been interrupted. “Not cool, dude. Not cool at all.”

“Sorry, Jett,” he says with a sheepish look on his face and a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m with the local paper. Have a good night.” He dashes away before I can snatch the camera out of his hands. I would’ve too, if I’d been a little quicker. I glance back to my side where Delilah had been standing, so we could finish our dance but she’s gone. Scanning the crowd I look for Levi where I had seen him earlier with his friends but he’s nowhere to be found either. I can’t chase her, I convince myself. If she wants to be with me, she’ll let me know. I can’t force her to give me a chance, even if I want to run after her and give her a million reasons why she should give me a chance, I can’t. It just wouldn’t be right.

“Jett!” Allyl rushes up to me and wraps one arm around my neck in a sisterly embrace that reminds me of the times we used to get each other in headlocks in our parents’ living room. “Are you really going to match our earnings?”

“Of course.” I suddenly feel very deflated and… sad. “I’m going to head home now though. Just send me the information after the event is over and I’ll have the funds transferred over.”

“Thank you so much. I take back everything I ever said about you,” she laughs. “Except for what I said about not breaking Delilah’s heart.”

“I never would,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “But I don’t think she’s going to give me a chance to prove that to her.”

“She will.” Ally winks at me. “You just need to give her some time and a little space so she can work though… stuff.”

“What stuff?” I ask, feeling one eyebrow arching.

Ally tilts her head and rests one hand on my shoulder. “Did she tell you about Levi’s father?”

I shrug. “Just that he passed away.”

“Yeah,” she says as her lips twist into a frown. “In a plane crash.”

“That’s terrible,” I say, shaking my head.

“So…” her words trail off as she bobs her head back and forth. “It might be a little difficult for her to fall for someone who travels all the time for their career.”

Oh! Realization finally hits me. “Is that why she’s being weird tonight?”

“Weird?” Ally scoffs and nudges me on the back of the arm. “Or… afraid of history repeating itself?”

“I can’t give up my career, Ally.”

“She wouldn’t want you to.” Her smile returns. “You just need to talk to her and see if you two can find some sort of middle ground but I’ve seen how you look at each other. She makes you happy and you make her happy. You have to try.” She pats me on the shoulder as she turns to make her way back through the crowd and to the main administration booth to get back to her duties for the fundraiser.

She’s right. It’s hard to admit my sister is ever right about anything, but she’s definitely right about this. I have to try. A plan started forming along the outside edges of my mind but it wasn’t fully formed yet. I knew where I needed to start though.

“I’m glad you called,” Nigel’s voice came through the speaker loud and clear as I drove back to my parents’ house.

“Here’s the thing, man.” I took a deep breath, knowing what I was about to do would change my life and my little girl’s life forever. Her eyes were shining up at me as I glanced into the rearview mirror. She gave me a thumb’s up and slid her headphones on. She knew what my plan was. I told her before we left the event and she was on board fully. “I’m ready to make a change.”

Nigel lets out a squeal on his end of the phone that nearly knocks out my eardrums. “You’re ready to sign with my boys?”

“I’m ready to talk about it,” I admit. “I’ll need to see the full terms, of course.”

“Naturally,” Nigel agrees. “I’ll have the offer prepared and emailed to you by tomorrow morning.”

“They’re going to need to buy out my remaining term from The Machine.”

“That won’t be an issue,” Nigel says, confidently. “The Machine’s been reporting losses regularly even with their bad blood with the Miller’s they won’t pass up the payday.”

“Let’s hope not.” I exhale slowly as a fresh wave of relief takes over my senses. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt free of the pressure of the business but this change is exactly what I need. “How soon do you think they can come to an agreement?”

He lets out a low whistle like he’s thinking. “I would imagine it wouldn’t take the legal teams more than a few days to reach an agreement on this one.”

“As soon as it’s done, can you book me a spot with local radio. I have a plan and I need your help to make it work.”

“On it.”

The phone beeps as the call ends and I grip the wheel tighter as I pull into my parents’ driveway.

“Dad?” Tatum says from the backseat as she takes her headphones off.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Can we stay in Crossroads even if things don’t work out with you and Levi’s mom?” She glances out through the windshield, looking at the house in front of us. “I like it here.”

“Yeah,” I say, turning in my seat to look her in the eye. “I like it here too.”

Two days later, I got the call. My stomach was in knots when I saw Nigel’s phone number show up on my caller ID not knowing what reaction I was about to receive. It was good news though. The Machine had agreed to let them buy out the remaining term of my contract but they retained the rights to my songs and albums created under their label. Fair enough. There are plenty of ways to work around that. I had spent those two days mulling over the terms of the offer from Amaryllis and signed as soon as I got the all clear from The Machine’s legal department. Now it was time to put my plan into action and my stomach was in knots. If it didn’t work at least I’ll know I tried, I told myself in an attempt to get the rolling nerves to settle down even if only slightly.

I dialed my sister’s number and waited for her to answer.

“What’s up?” she asked, not even saying hello. 

It had taken me the full two days to arrange everything but it was all in place and happening. Now, I just needed Ally to play her part. I was more than a little nervous she’d say absolutely not. “I need your help.”

“What are you up to, Jett?”

“You’ll see. I just need a favor. Please.”

“A favor?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “What kind of favor?”

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Get Delilah to listen to the radio today at ten a.m. I’m doing an interview with KCRM and it’s extremely important that she hears it.”

There was a long pause on the other end. When she spoke again, her voice was stern. “You better not hurt her or do something stupid. I swear on my life I will disown you.”

“I promise.” I let out a slight sigh of relief while also feeling my jaw clench. “I will make sure it’s worth it. Please, just make sure she’s listening.”

Ally groaned into the phone so loud it made my ear hairs stand on end and an annoying shiver distort my body. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask,” I said. “Thanks, sis.”

I arrive at the radio station with my heart beating wildly in my chest from excitement and nervousness mixed with hope that Delilah will hear my song—her song. Even if she does hear it there’s no guarantee she will give me a chance or even the time of day, but I have to try. I suck in a deep breath and do my best to ignore the growing nerves, shoving them deep down inside. This is nothing I haven’t done a million times before, other than the fact that I am about to expose myself to the entire listening audience. 

“Good morning, listeners,” Merry Mike kicks off the show right on time. I fidget in my seat, anxious for my turn at the microphone. “We have a special holiday treat for you today. Jett Jericho has graciously offered to come into the station here to chat with us for a little while and tell us about some major moves he’s making for the new year. Jett, tell us what you’re up to buddy.” 

“Thanks for having me, Mike. I really appreciate it and appreciate all the support the local community has shown me since I arrived last week. I’ve recently signed to join a different label and to celebrate that business arrangement I’ve been working on some new music and if it’s alright with you, I’d like to play one of the songs that will be on the album coming out in the spring.” 

“That sounds amazing! Our listeners have an exclusive chance to hear your new song before it’s even recorded? Yes, please.” He laughs and throws a big showman’s smile my way. “Let it rip.”

My hands begin to shake as I pick up my guitar. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and wait for calm to overtake me, trying to forget the fact I am about to play an unrecorded song over the airwaves. One I’ve never actually demoed and wrote less than a week ago. My manager and the record label might hate it and it might cost me my new contract, but I don’t care. I wrote this song for Delilah and I am singing it for her. “Life’s our gift, a chance we take. I want to share this gift with only you.” Delilah’s face fills my mind and my fingers respond by dancing across my guitar strings with more intention and my voice pours out of me with more conviction than I’ve ever heard from myself before. When I hit the final note, silence fills the sound booth. I glance up nervously. Maybe it hadn’t sounded as good as I thought it did. But instead of frowns and scowls, everyone on the other side of the soundproof window is grinning at me. 

Merry Mike even has a stray tear in her eye. “What a wonderful heartfelt song, Jett. Wow. It was amazing. Thank you for sharing that with us. Let’s get some reactions from the listeners, shall we?” He turns to the laptop beside him and scrolls through the online reactions.

I smile and nod, but I’m just hoping Ally was able to get Delilah to hear it too and that she’d understand why I did this. “Delilah, if you’re listening…” My throat tightens but I have to tell her the truth. It’s the only way. “I love you and if you’re willing, I’d like to take you on another date.” 

Mike looks at me with shock and blinks twice. “You really do love her, huh?”

“I do. Yeah. This industry can make us all a bunch of cynics if we let it, but she showed me that genuine people are still out there and if she’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to repay her for that gift.”

“Jett Jericho, a romantic at heart. Who knew?” Mike smiles and winks at me as he breaks into an announcement about what the listeners can expect in the upcoming hour. I push myself up out of the chair once he signals that the mic’s been cut. As I’m gathering my guitar and stuffing it into its case, I feel a very strange mix of relief and anxiety. All I can think about is how she’ll respond when I can finally get back and talk to her. I put everything out there, aired my heart and soul on the radio for everyone to hear. Was that too bold and just push her away farther or had it been the right thing to do? There’s no way for me to know until I can talk to her. I just have to wait and see what happens next.

I fall into the driver’s seat of my parent’s car, ready to make the short trip back home but first I reach to check my phone. No missed calls. No new messages. My heart sinks. I really hoped to see a message on there with her face next to it. One telling me she heard me and that she felt the same, but that’s not what I see. I do see messages from my old manager coming in though, a very angry ex-manager judging by the excerpts of the messages flashing by in the notifications on my screen. I throw the phone in the passenger seat and start the car. Maybe Ally hadn’t been able to get her to listen or maybe it just didn’t matter. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same I way I do. That thought made my chest tighten. I flick the radio on, needing some music to drown out the silence and my racing thoughts.

“What a great visit we had from Jett Jericho. He reminded us love isn’t just about the flowers and romance but the gift of sharing life with the one you love. I can’t wait to buy the whole album when it’s released. How about you?”

I only care about how one person feels about the song.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DELILAH

I’d wanted to protest when Ally ran into my classroom to drag me to the staff break room. I didn’t want to listen to Jett or hear his new song. I wanted to block myself off from him and from the anger I felt at myself. I knew it wasn’t Jett’s fault I couldn’t let myself fall for him. It was because I wasn’t strong enough to let go of the past even though I knew Levi’s father would’ve wanted me to be happy. He would’ve wanted Levi to have a father figure in his life since he couldn’t be there to fill that role but I couldn’t pull myself out of that single moment all those years ago. It haunted me and I’ve let it continue to haunt me. The anger was easier. I can get through my day angry. It’s harder to get through the day when I’m sad. Ally knew that and she knew I was hiding from my real feelings. She’d put her foot down and had even enlisted the help of one of the substitute teachers who happened to be walking by to stand in for me in my classroom.

By the time the interview ended I was a complete and total wreck. I couldn’t believe that he did something like that for me. He debuted a song he wrote for me on the radio. “Are… are you okay?” Ally asks through broken sobs of her own as she pulls out another swatch of paper towel from the dispenser attached to the wall and uses it to wipe her nose. “I can’t believe he did that,” she adds, blowing her nose in the towel sending a sound like a train echoing through the room.

I want to second-guess myself. I want to say no, that I’m not okay but I can’t bring myself to say it. I deserve a real chance at love, don’t I? “I have to finish the day out. How am I supposed to do that now?” I wipe the back of my hand across my eyes and attempt to stand up even though I’m still wobbly from the range of emotions coursing through me. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

“You do. Yeah,” Ally says with a crying laugh as she dabs at my left eye with the corner of a fresh paper towel. “Your eyeliner is a mess.”

My instinct is screaming at me to run to him. To go to him now. To make the wait end, but I can’t just abandon the kids in my classroom. I feel so many conflicting things, but the strongest feeling of them all is that I want to feel his arms around me again. The way they were just before the photographer interrupted our slow dance. Just before the world went upside down, again.

“Go,” Ally says. “I’ll cover your classroom.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go.” She puts her hands up against my shoulders and shoves me toward the door. “Go!”

Something twists inside of me and I glance back at my friend, giving her a quick hug. “Thank you.” I’d been afraid to love. Afraid to lose myself in someone again. This was real and there was no escaping it. It’s the kind of love that would last a lifetime however long that might be and leave a scar if we don’t see it through. I can’t turn my back on something that powerful, even if it might leave a scar in the end. I’ve been afraid of so many things but with that song he moved me to want to stop being afraid and to take a chance on him… on us. I want to give him, us, myself, one more chance to be happy… together.

I sprinted across the school parking lot and as soon as I fell into the driver’s seat the engine was running. 

I arrived at his parents’ house just as he was putting a suitcase in his Dad’s car. He froze in place when his eyes locked onto mine. My heart pounds with all that I want to say but can’t find the words for as I push the door open and cross the short distance to where he’s standing.

He takes one small step toward me with his eyes still locked onto mine and a shimmer of hope gleaming out through his slight smile. “Did you hear the song?”

I nod quickly, unable to find any words at all.

He drops the suitcase from his hand and pulls me into his arms so tight, everything else is forgotten. I feel the warmth coming off his body as his chest presses against me. The moment holds us, suspending us in time as we both savor it. He holds me, until I finally let go and suck in a deep breath as I rest my head against him. He reaches up with one finger grazing against my chin and lifts my head so that my mouth meets his. His lips are soft and gentle against mine, as if he is as afraid to break the spell as I am. 

When he pulls back, it was too soon but his smile warmed my heart and turned my knees wobbly. “I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t know.”

I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. Let’s just start over. Together.”

He smiles gently, cupping my face in his hands. His gaze softens as he looks into my eyes and it feels like he sees all of me with a single glance. “I’ll love you through it all, Delilah. Through the good times and the bad, but we’ll get through it all together.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, his voice gentle but definite. “I can’t promise I’ll be here forever but I can promise you that I will love you for as long as I’m breathing.”

“That’s all I need,” I tease, leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’ll be on the road a lot but not as much as I used to be. You have my word on that.”

“What do you mean?”

“The new label. They’re going to work with me to have me home more and on the road less, so I can be with my family… old and new.”

My heart swells with emotion as tears stream down my cheeks. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you back, Delilah.” As he holds me in his arms, I realize that giving myself another chance at happiness was the best decision I could have ever made. He fills my heart with a happiness I haven’t felt in years. It won’t be easy. Love never is. But we will love each other through it all and that’s all anyone can ever ask for. And as we stand here, lost in each other’s eyes, I can’t help but send up a silent prayer of thanks for this fresh start of a whole new life for all of us.