“And that’s why I read romance,” Mir said with a big smile.
“For prenups?” I asked, utterly lost.
“No, for true love. Nothing else matters when you love somebody.” She looked at me expectantly.
This was the moment I was supposed to nod and say, “Of course,” even though I didn’t agree. Mom loved Dad in her own warped way, but love wasn’t enough. Not when the other person didn’t respect you. But I put on a smile. “Of course. True love trumps all.”
“And we really should get this gold dress,” Mir said, pulling out another risqué item from a rack. “It’ll bring out your…” She stopped. “It’s just so golden.”
“Let’s see first.” I laid out the maxi dress, and she laid out the other three she’d picked out on a T-shirt table.
“You should get them all,” Mir said.
“I don’t think so. But I’ll try them all on.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Killian
Mir’s impromptu visit wasn’t like her, and it worried me. She didn’t just eat like a kid; she had the boundless energy of a kid as well. And a substandard filter between her brain and mouth. I still marveled that she was an accountant. She definitely didn’t fit the stereotype.
She was going to pour out all sorts of thoughts and stories, whatever flitted through her mind, to Emily. I prayed she didn’t say anything embarrassing, or overwhelm Emily by trying to do everything she’d ever wanted to do with her favorite author in one afternoon.
When my phone buzzed, I picked it up immediately. It was probably an SOS from Emily. Then I realized she didn’t have my number. I should’ve given it to her before I left.
–Mir: Hey, Emily and I are going to Sam’s Brew to celebrate her new book. You should come.
Was that even Emily’s idea?
–Me: Are you dragging her out to the bar?
–Mir: No. She finished her book! She deserves some fun, don’t you think?
I wasn’t sure if that was Emily’s idea of “fun,” and wondered if I should’ve stayed around to rescue her from Mir. Since it was too late to stop the outing without looking like a weirdo, I decided to do the next best thing.
–Me: OK. What time?
–Mir: Don’t know yet. When we’re done shopping and getting ready. How about we meet at seven at her place?
It was barely four. Unease sat in my belly.
–Me: How long does it take to shop and get some clothes on?
–Mir: No judging. Us girls are entitled to spend our time as we see fit.
Yeah, but did Emily think this was a good use of her time?
On the other hand, I recalled the way she’d told me—in no uncertain terms—to stop drumming the second time we saw each other. She could handle my bulldozer sister.
Probably.
After putting the phone down, I picked up the sticks again and started to drum the beat of our first major hit, “Sweet Nothings,” and sing. The song was five years old, but still a fan favorite. It also had a special spot in my heart, not to mention the rest of the guys’. No one ever forgets their first. I thought my heart would burst when I heard somebody request it on the radio for the first time. And still got a thrill when people wanted to hear Axelrod’s music.
My mind started to wander. The beats changed into something different. The melody coming out from my throat was altered, too. The sound was fresh—a little sweet, a little edgy. Too new to be anything definite yet, like a wildflower sprout coming up in a field, but it had potential.
Snippets of possible lyrics started to coalesce in my mind. Flashes of images. I closed my eyes, joy welling inside. The dam that had blocked my flow wasn’t there anymore. Inspiration was just trickling in, but I knew it was only the beginning. My gut told me there was more to come. Torrents of music, and I had to be ready and quick enough to catch every drop of the words and tunes before they vanished. Because inspiration was that fleeting.
Then suddenly it all poured out, the beats, the lyrics and the song. Shivers rushed through me as I sang my heart out in the living room with nobody to listen.