Page 45 of The Perfect Melody

“You can’t just do whatever you want.”

Deep breaths. Do not let her get to you. “Look, I don’t have time for whatever this is. Please move so I can get back to work.” I glance over at her section to see a group trying to catch her attention. “Looks like you don’t have time either—they’re calling you over.” Using Molly’s distraction to my advantage, I brush past her and hurry over to place the reserved sign on Esther and Thomas’s table so it’s still free once they return with my guitar. Austin won’t mind—they’re doing us both a solid. The least we can do is save their seats.

Twenty minutes later, I hover in Austin’s office, tuning my guitar and wondering if this whole thing is a mistake. Who am I kidding? Iknowit’s a mistake, but I’m doing it anyway. All because I can’t stand by and do nothing when I know how much tonight means to Austin. I might not like that he’s taken his stress out on me but, given the circumstances, I can understand.After all, I’m handling my stress by running away and hiding my identity—I’m hardly in any position to judge. Plus, accident or not, I did crash into his bar. Besides, this night is important to Abby too. She may have handed control of Bowman’s over to Austin, but it’s still their family’s business and she’s been nothing but kind to me since I arrived.

Pacing, I shake out my hands as if that will somehow expel the jitters from my body. The desk and small couch take up most of the office space, but I could still wear a groove in the floorboards before it’s time for my set to begin. I haven’t been this nervous to take the stage since my first arena performance.

The chances of anyone recognising me are slim. I look nothing like my usual self, and it’s not like I’ll sing any of my own songs. Well, not Melody’s stuff at least. If it feels appropriate, I might play one of the many songs I’ve written that don’t fit my brand. After all, this could be my only chance to find out how an audience responds to them. Mostly, I’ll do covers of popular songs like I used to do when I was first starting out. The only thing linking me to Melody Night is the glittery silver guitar strap across my body, since it’s more ‘her’ style than mine, but it’s something anyone could have.Everything’s fine. Nobody is going to recognise me.

“We’re nearly ready for you,” Mei announces, sticking her head around the door. I offered to set up the stage myself, but she was happy for the chance to do it, so I didn’t argue. Given it’s only me going up there, it won’t have been much work. The band was supposed to bring their own equipment, and I’d worried that meant Bowman’s wouldn’t have anything of their own. I needn’t have been concerned. Shortly after Esther and Thomas left to fetch my guitar, Austin asked me if my guitar was acoustic or acoustic-electric. A few minutes later he returned from the office with an amp and mic for Mei to set up.

“Thanks,” I reply, but she’s already vanished.

A couple of minutes later, the door opens again. I’m expecting Mei, but without turning around I can tell it’s not her who’s come to fetch me.

“Are you ready?” I hate to admit it, but his deep voice is soothing when he’s not using it to yell at me.

“I’m nervous.” Shit, why did I admit that? Now he’s going to think I’m not up for this.

“Cassie, look at me.” Reluctantly, I turn and lean against the edge of the desk. “May I?” He nods to the space next to me.

“Sure.”

His arm brushes against mine as he settles beside me. He’s warm, probably from all the running around he’s been doing to make sure everyone’s having a good time.

“You don’t have to sing, you know that, right? Shit happens, and everyone out there will understand if I tell them why there’s no live music tonight. This isn’t your responsibility.”

“I know, and I appreciate you saying that, but I owe you one.” I lightly bump my shoulder against his arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s been a minute since I performed to a crowd like this, that’s all.” I usually perform to a crowd of well over ten thousand people who already like my music, and if they don’t enjoy the show, there’s no risk of me running into them while getting coffee the next day.

“It’s packed out there, but everyone’s in good spirits. They’re not a hard bunch to please, I promise.” He smiles, and I’m once again struck by how it softens the harsh angles of his face and brings something calmer to his intense presence. It’s… oddly comforting.

I inhale slowly to settle myself, regretting it the moment Austin’s cologne registers. His warm, comforting blend of bergamot and cardamom really does smell unfairly good. Worse, it reminds me of how I woke this morning to find his shirt gripped tightly in my hand. My cheeks heat. Now is not the timeto be thinking about that. On the bright side, I’m not focused on my nerves anymore.

“Come on, let’s do this,” I say, standing before my thoughts get any more muddled. All my focus needs to be on performing and trying not to sound like my usual self when I sing. The second part won’t be hard since I have a much lower range than anyone at the label likes me to explore. Country princesses are supposed to sound young and sweet. The last time I brought up wanting to explore more of my vocal range, nobody appreciated me reminding them I’ve not been a teenager for years.

Shaking my head to dispel the negative thoughts and pasting a smile on my face, I open the door, stepping back to wave Austin through first since he’s going to introduce me to the crowd.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate with us. Most of you know this bar has been in my family for three generations now. I’m honoured to be taking over from my mum who did a wonderful job caring for this place for so many years.” A few hoots and cheers sound out around the room. “Now, some of you heard we’d have a live band tonight. I’m afraid car trouble means they won’t be joining us, but don’t worry because our very own Cassie is going to share her talent with us tonight instead. Please give her a warm welcome.”

Austin moves his hand in a sweeping gesture, inviting me to join him on stage. Well, it’s less of a stage, more of a raised platform that will accommodate extra tables during the day and on evenings when there’s no entertainment scheduled, but still. Tonight it’s a stage.

The crowd claps and Mei draws my attention by giving a whoop of encouragement from over by the bar. Her wide grin and overenthusiastic thumbs-up make me chuckle, banishing the last of my nerves.

“Good luck,” Austin murmurs, giving my shoulder a light squeeze of encouragement before hopping down from the stage.

I settle onto the tall stool someone—probably Mei—set up for me, plug in my guitar, and adjust the mic to the correct height. “Hi everyone. I’m Cassie and I’ll be singing for you tonight. I’ve been told a lot of you are country fans, so let’s start with a classic.” The familiar chords of a Dolly Parton song come to me with ease. Some of the crowd go back to their conversations, some sing along, and some, like Austin, watch intently.

As the first song ends and I seamlessly transition into another, I’m filled with a sense of comfort I thought I’d lost forever. Nobody stands up and shouts “It’s her!”. Nobody heckles me. Molly looks like someone shoved a lemon wedge in her mouth and made her suck on it, but whatever weird territorial thing she has going on over Austin doesn’t matter. Nothing does, not while I’m playing. This right here is home.

Chapter Twenty

Austin

Radiant.That’s the only way to describe Cassie in this moment. Something changed the second she stepped onto that stage. It doesn’t matter that she’s in her work uniform or that Bowman’s is a family business in a small town most people have never heard of. Cassie has come to life under the simple stage lights in a way I never knew was possible.

The final chord of her cover of a song I recognise as one belonging to a male country duo sounds and, instead of seamlessly transitioning into another like she has been, Cassie’s hands still. She looks nervous for the first time since stepping under the warm glow of the stage lights. “If you don’t mind indulging me for a couple of minutes, I’d like to share a song I wrote with you.”

The crowd claps and someone—Mei, I think—yells their encouragement. Cassie smiles, dipping her head in thanks. Her voice is something else, weaving a spell over everyone in the bar. The melody is as beautiful as her singing, both distracting enough that if you weren’t really listening, you might mistake the ballad for a love song. This isn’t a love song. It’s a song overflowing with pain, and my chest aches at the idea of Cassie ever feeling this way.