Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
The fact that the club was six months from going under said yes. She had.
Eve’s phone vibrated on the table.
“Oh lord,” she muttered, recognizing the number on the screen. Lark and Landon’s school was calling. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Eve Keller?”
“Yes. Speaking.”
“Great. I’ve got Landon here in the nurse’s office complaining of a stomachache.” Some whispering took place in the background. “Landon says he switched sandwiches with Corey W. at lunchtime and he thinks he’s allergic to turkey.”
The first time Eve got a call from the school about her nephew, she’d almost split her head open leaping out of the shower to answer the phone, assuming blood had been spilled or he’d had some sort of mental breakdown over his mother’s sudden absence. Nope. It was always something like this. Yesterday he’d gone to the nurse because his fingers looked weird. “Could you keep him there a little while and see if his stomach stops hurting? Maybe some soda water would help?”
“That sounds like just the thing.” Based on the smirk in her tone, the nurse recognized Landon was trying to pull a fast one. “I’ll keep you posted.”
Gratitude nested in Eve’s breast. The school nurse was a real one, nice from day one. It was a testament to Eve’s experience that someone being kind to her in this town landed so hard. “Thank you.”
No sooner did she hang up with the nurse than a young woman walked into the lounge.
Eve sat up straighter, liking her vibe. She was on the short side and kind of disgruntled looking, but she had a cool rockabilly style with chopped black bangs and a vintage scarf tied around her neck. She was wearing a pair of high-waisted pants and suspenders, complete with a cap-sleeved white T-shirt. Cute. Original. But maybe not the best choice if she planned to audition.
“Hi.” Eve stood up and extended her hand. “I’m Eve. Thanks for coming. Did you bring music?”
“Uhh.” The new arrival’s step slowed. Looking confused, she dug her phone out of her pocket. “I mean, I have Spotify . . .”
Unprepared. Not off to a great start, but Eve wasn’t in any position to be picky. “Great. Just pull up your song and I’ll tell you how to connect to the Bluetooth. Do you need to change your clothes before the audition?”
“Oh.” A slow blink from the girl. “I think we have our wires crossed. I’m not here to audition.” She scratched her eyebrow. “I don’t even take my clothes off in front of a mirror, let alone a crowd.”
Crowd was a stretch. Seven people had attended last night’s performance.
Eve dropped like a stone back into her chair and blew out a breath. She should laugh it off and give the girl directions to the interstate or the nearest Starbucks, depending on why she’d come in here, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to be cordial or friendly. Her energy had slowly been waning since Madden walked out of her apartment and it appeared to finally be sapped.
Not good.
When she’d had time to breathe, the magnitude of what happened that morning hit her like a two-by-four. Madden had finally figured out her longest-standing secret. He’d called her out for keeping him at a distance because of Skylar’s megacrush. And sure, of course her best friend being in love with Madden had a lot to do with Eve keeping him at arm’s length. Over the years, however, it had become a lot more than that. Her reasons for ignoring her feelings for Madden had multiplied.
I’m a fucking rock and you can’t dig me up.
The grind in her chest was so intense, Eve didn’t even have the capacity to react when the nonauditioner sat down across from her, blocking Eve’s view of the stage. “You okay, bitch?”
Eve looked up sharply. “Do you need directions? Or maybe an ass kicking?”
A smile bloomed across the girl’s mouth. Pretty. She was very pretty.
She’d look even prettier outside. Driving away.
“I don’t need directions,” assured the girl.
“Not even to the exit?”
Rockabilly girl bit her bottom lip. “Damn. I kind of love you. Are you always this mean? Please say yes.”
“Yes.”
“Dreams do come true. I’m Veda.” Veda, apparently, pulled over a chair from another table and used it as a footrest, crossing her booted ankles on top of it. “I’m here with a proposition.” Eve raised an eyebrow at the footrest situation and Veda promptly put her feet back on the floor. “Sorry, I overcompensate when I’m nervous.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Are you serious?” Eve didn’t know where this was going, so she crossed her arms and waited for Veda to explain. “You’re kind of famous around here. The hot burlesque club lady who walks her kids to the bus stop with no pants?”
It took an effort to keep her expression neutral when her stomach nearly jumped into her mouth. “That’s ridiculous. I wear shorts. And a hoodie. It’s just a long hoodie that probably makes it look like . . .” She trailed off with an incredulous headshake. “Why am I having this conversation?”