The Wedding March. Tara Randel

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       CHAPTER THREE

      THE NEXT MORNING, Cassie sat at her sister’s kitchen table, feet hooked over the lower rung of the chair, her elbows bent while she balanced a pencil on her fingers. A half-empty cup of coffee, her third so far, sat within reaching distance, while she stared at a blank yellow legal pad.

      She’d been up since dawn, still dressed in a tank top, sleeping shorts and a threadbare long sleeve denim shirt. Her guitar, which she’d named Ginger for its deep red wood, still inside the case, sat beside her feet. Normally she’d take Ginger out and strum until a melody caught her fancy. Normally. But with her head in a bad place, she didn’t dare touch the instrument.

      So far, nothing had come to her. Oh, some random notes. A few words here and there drifted through her brain, words she tried to link together, but she couldn’t make them stick. The words lingered, then escaped as if wisps in the wind.

      She gathered her long hair and twisted, then tossed it over her shoulder, hating this surge of frustration. Her sister walked into the kitchen, dressed in a flirty dress, ready to go out to Sunday brunch.

      “Sure you don’t want to come?” Lauren asked. “My friends loved meeting meet you last time you were in town.”

      “Thanks, but I need to work.”

      “How long have you been sitting there?”

      “What time is it?” she asked. If she didn’t get it together soon, she was in big trouble.

      “You look terrible.” Her sister stated the obvious.

      “That’s the look I was going for.” Okay, stop. No point in taking her situation out on Lauren when her sister had absolutely no idea what was going on with Cassie in the first place.

      Lauren poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned a hip against the counter, her narrowed eyes trained on Cassie. Uh-oh. Trouble. Her sister hadn’t become a successful financial advisor without being perceptive.

      Cassie wiggled in her seat.

      “So when are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

      “If I have my way, never.”

      Lauren sipped her coffee. Cassie could almost picture the wheels turning in her sister’s mind.

      “So there is something going on. The wedding?”

      “No, it’s not about the wedding.”

      “Whatever it is, I’ll listen. I’m told it’s one of my best qualities.”

      “As much as I’d love to, you can’t help with this problem.”

      “Music?”

      “Of course. What else drives me?”

      “If you’re having trouble, talk to Dad.”

      “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” She held up her hand as Lauren opened her mouth to argue. Her father had shown her the wonderful world of music, and yes, she’d wanted to please him, but after too many years spent trying to earn her father’s love and never measuring up, she’d stopped trying. Excluding him from her life had helped her to focus as she tried to succeed in the business, finding passion in her talent, without his criticism. “Not because we don’t talk to each other. He can’t help me figure this out.”

      A knowing gleam shone in her sister’s eyes. “But Luke Hastings can?”

      Her breath caught. “Why would you ask me about him?”

      “Because I heard you humming that song of his again.” She snapped her fingers. “You know, something about love.”

      “‘Won’t You Love Me Always.’”

      “Right. I can never keep all the titles straight. It’s like that one of yours, ‘Pretty Inside.’ I love the message of that song.”

      Cassie smiled, remembering the story behind the lyrics. She’d gone to a fancy sorority party in college and while her friends were all dressed up in the latest fashion, she’d worn a casual outfit. Big no-no. She’d brushed off the sideway glances and snickers by pretending to be amused, hiding her hurt feelings. Later on, she’d used the experience to compose a song about beauty coming from inside, not the trendy clothes or shoes that a person wore. It had been one of her most popular singles.

      “That was a great time for me. I was away from home for the first time. Mom and Bud were strong so we didn’t have to worry about her like we did when the three of us were making ends meet. It was like the clamoring inside my head finally calmed down and I could take the lyrics I’d been jotting down forever and put them to music.”

      “Mom wasn’t happy when you dropped out your senior year.”

      “What can I say? When the opportunity to perform full-time arose, I jumped at the chance. Actually made some money.”

      “Until LA.”

      “It wasn’t easy, but I was living my dream.” She laughed. “I was all about ramen noodle meals, sleeping on friends’ couches and pinching pennies to get by while I knocked on one record label door after another.”

      “And now,” her sister asked, СКАЧАТЬ