Page 78 of Prelude of Love
“It’s not forever,” I reminded him. “Your job will be waiting whenever you’re ready to return.”
“What if it takes months? Or longer?”
I shrugged. “It takes as long as it takes. The position’s yours whenever you want it.”
Red swallowed hard, fighting off another wave of emotion. “You’re making itreallydifficult not to cry again. Thank you again. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck with the rest of your packing. I’ll send you the details about the concert.”
Red gave me one last grateful look before heading for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. “Will you at least let me help at the concert? I can’t sit there while everyone works for my sake.”
“You can help by showing up. Maybe prepare a speech if you want. We’ll handle the rest.”
“I can do that.” Red grinned, looking more like himself than he had since he’d walked into my office. “See you then, boss.”
“Sounds good.”
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the half-finished inventory spreadsheet glowing on my monitor. I rubbed a hand over my face, surprised by how draining the conversation had been. It was a level of emotional intensity I wasn't used to with anyone besides Early and my younger brother.
With a groan, I forced myself back into my chair. The inventory wouldn’t complete itself, and I’d promised Early I’d finish it today. Besides, watching Chance perform was distracting enough when it wasn’t my job to focus on something else.
I clicked on the spreadsheet, determined to power through the tedious task. We were running low on thepremium bourbon that Iason preferred. I made a note to order more before the concert. The last thing I needed was to run out during Red’s send-off.
My thoughts wandered to Chance again. He’d been enthusiastic about performing at the benefit, offering his services the moment Early mentioned it. For someone with his level of fame, he was surprisingly down-to-earth and generous. It was one of the many qualities that made him difficult to resist.
The sound of laughter filtered through my office door. I gripped my pen tighter, forcing my attention back to work. The liquor wouldn’t count itself, and I had responsibilities that didn’t include mooning over a rock star half my age.
Even if said rock star had spent an incredible night in our bed and had the potential to become more than a casual fling.
I shook my head.Focus. Inventory. Now.
Working methodically through the list was mind-numbing work but necessary. The bar wouldn’t run itself, and with Red leaving, I had to be even more on top of things. Chance would have to wait.
Chapter Twenty-Three
CHANCE
I hesitatedoutside Duke’s office, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. The hallway felt too narrow suddenly, the air too thick. I lifted my hand to knock, then dropped it again, rehearsing what I’d say one more time before knocking.
“Come in,” his deep voice called from inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped into his office. Duke sat behind his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. His gray eyes narrowed when he saw me, his expression shifting from mild annoyance over being interrupted to concern.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting down his pen.
My shoulders slumped as I stood next to him, the weight of disappointment pressing down on me. “I have bad news.”
Duke’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “About the filming?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s going fine. I just got off the phone with my bandmates.” The conversation had left a sour taste in my mouth. “None of them can make it for Red’s benefit concert. They said it’s too short notice, and they’re all busy with their own things.”
Duke’s expression softened. “Come here,” he said, pushing his chair back from the desk and patting his thigh.
I hesitated for only a second before moving around the desk. Duke guided me to straddle his lap, and I sank down gratefully, seeking the comfort of his solid presence.
“I wanted to help do my part, and now I feel like I’ve failed him and you,” I admitted, burying my face against Duke’s neck. The familiar scent of his woodsy cologne wrapped around me like a security blanket.
His arms encircled me, strong and secure. “There are other options. You could duet with Iason or your dad. You could also sing solo.”
