Page 7 of Sing For Me

Distraction from this annoying as hell conversation comes from an unexpected source—my employee Quinn pops his head into the office. “Hey Will—” He catches sight of my cousin sitting across from me and his entire demeanor changes. He stands up straighter, adopting a smarmy little smile that he probably thinks works for him—he would be wrong—and turns his body towards her.

“Hey, there, Rose. Didn’t know you were back here.”

She gives him her usual warm smile. Unless we’re talking annoying brothers—and me, apparently—Rosie is incapable of being anything less than friendly. “Just brought Will some leftovers from home,” she says, pointing at the empty Tupperware containers.

“Will is a lucky, lucky man,” Quinn says, his eyebrows doing this weird waggling thing that I think is meant to be seductive.

“Did you need something, Quinn?” I ask. “Or did you just want to flirt—badly—with my cousin?”

He gives me an innocent look. “I’m not flirting. This is just my natural charm oozing through.”

“Oozing sounds about right,” I mutter, then give him a pointed look. “What do you need?”

He smooths the stupid little goatee he wears, looking apprehensive. “I could use your help with something.”

“I’m not going to be your wingman at Telly’s tonight,” I tell him firmly. “You need to learn to pick up your own women at the bar.”

He smirks over at Rose, smoothing the chin weasel again. “I have zero problem in that department, let me assure you”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah, yeah. So, what’s the favor? I really do have a ton of shit to do.”

“Sorry, buddy, you’re going to have to put it off for a bit. We have a pretty big group coming in about twenty minutes. The whole shop is booked up but they just called and asked if they could add another client to their group.”

“What kind of group?” I ask, immediately wary. Images of bachelorette parties tipsy from day drinking swirl through my brain. Giggling girls demanding glittery butterfly tattoos and unfortunate lower back tribal pieces.

“They seem pretty legit,” he assures me. “A few of them were in last week, picked out some pieces from our books. Seems like it’s just a group of friends who want to do something together. Bonding, or some shit.”

After the morning I’ve had, I’m not really in the mood for what basically amounts to a walk-in. But the last thing I need is for all my artists to get bogged down. That will throw off the schedule for the rest of the afternoon.

“Fine,” I tell him. “I’m gonna get started on payroll. Call me when you need me.”

“Got it, boss.” He gives me a salute and my scowl deepens. He knows it pisses me off when he calls me that. Which is definitely why he insists on doing it. Quinn lives to annoy the shit out of me. “Hey, Rose, if you’re ever looking for some company—”

“Get the fuck out,” I snap, and he holds up his hands.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He shoots her one last smarmy smile before he goes.

“You don’t have to be so mean to him,” Rose says. “He was just being friendly.”

“He was trying to get in your pants.”

She sighs wistfully. “I’m getting to the point where I wouldn’t turn him down.”

I give her a sharp look. I know she hasn’t dated much since the douchebag ex fucked her over, but she hasn’t seemed lonely to me. Then again, I haven’t been home all that much. My stomach twists with guilt. I’m missing things. I’m supposed to be the person who looks out for her, who looks out for all my cousins, and I’m dropping the ball.

“Oh my God,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Drop the martyr look, Will. I’m fine. And even if I wasn’t, that would be my problem.”

“You’re my problem,” I say, and her eyes widen. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”

She cuts me off with her tinkling, musical laugh. “I know what you meant. But you really don’t need to feel so responsible for all of us. The Ransome clan is doing fine.”

I know that she’s right. My cousins, siblings, and I talk every day either on the phone or in our group text thread. They’re all busy, excited about the things they’re working on. Rose’s little sister Violet was recently accepted into a prestigious dance program at her ballet school. Our cousin Lyric, the brainiac of the family, got another perfect report card last week. My little sister CeCe scored in her last soccer game. My cousins are happy. Thriving.

I’m the only one who feels so damn stuck.

Enough of that,I think, reaching for the ledger so I can get going on the payroll. “Will,” Rose interrupts, her voice soft now, concerned, and I feel my shoulders tense. I know that tone and nothing good ever comes from it.

“I’ve got to work, Rosie.”