Pip hands her a cup of coffee. “Well, I also came for a favor,” Cassie says with a small smile.
I step to the coffee machine and place a mug under the spout. It’s only when I turn around that I realize Cassie has her sights set on me. “From me?”
She takes a sip. “That song we worked on in Paris, I wondered if you would be interested in helping me finish it.”
“In what way?”
“Everything, lyrics, melody, vocals.”
“Myvocals?” I ask.
“Yeah, you have an amazing voice and you worked so hard on it, I can’t imagine anyone else doing it.”
I sip my coffee, taking a moment to gather myself. I think of Anya’s encouraging smile that night I played for her, I think of the blue book burning a hole in my pocket. “I’m in,” I tell Cassie. “As long as you can help me with something.”
Chapter 42
ANYA
My phone rings with a call from Devon whilst I’m walking out of the local supermarket. I’m reading the label on the vitamins my mother has sworn will‘give me my energy back’. I tried to tell her that my lack of energy is probably little to do with a Vitamin B deficiency and more likely because I can’t bear to do anything apart from sit at home moping.
I throw the vitamin box back in my bag and answer as I step outside into the mild air.
“Hello?”
“Hey Anya, how have you been?”
I nod as if she can see me. “Great, thanks.” I try to enthuse my voice with as much pep as I can. “You?”
“Good, good. So that job is looking to start moving in the next week. Are you okay to start on Monday?”
Monday? My stomach flips. I’m excited for a new job of course, but the prospect of walking onto a set without Danny Covington is almost too much to bear.
Pull yourself together, Anya. He’s gone and he’s not coming back,I straighten my shoulders.
“Monday works perfectly.”
Devon rattles off an address in London and I mentally write down everything I need to do on my walk back to the car. First I need to find somewhere to live. There’s no way I can commute from home or bunk on Rosie’s couch for the next three months. It will be good for me, to have my own space. To put my stamp on a place that doesn’t have my baby pictures hung on the walls or a spot in the corner for a guitar stand. It’s what I need. Even if it makes my heart heavier in my chest.
In the quiet of my car, I take a deep breath before starting the engine. The radio clicks on as I pull onto the road. The sun is setting on the horizon and I drive towards it, squinting into the light. I can’t concentrate on my driving whilst the radio hosts banter so I reach to turn it off.
“…and now a new one from Cassandra. The mystery of who’s the feature on this one has gone viral. Let’s see if we can figure out who he is. This isWish I Could.”
My whole body freezes as the song that was first played in my little Paris apartment echoes through the speakers. It’s an effort to keep the car moving and my hands on the wheel as I feel my heart pounding in my chest. I find myself leaning towards the speaker, desperate to hear what I somehow know is coming.
Danny’s voice fills the car. He sounds the exact same as the first time he sang for me. My stomach swoops as his smooth voice washes over me. The original version focused on Cassandra’s yearning to live her life on her own terms. Now, Danny’s verse laments a lost love that he wishes he could save. It’s only when the song ends that I realize the wetness on my face is from my tears.
My vision blurs as I pull to a stop outside my childhood home, pulling the key out of the ignition before burying my head in my hands and letting the sobs free. This is ridiculous, how many more tears am I to shed over aman?
The car door opens, and my sob is replaced with a scream. I flinch back in my seat with my hand over my racing heart, but it’s not a murderer standing with his hands braced against the car.
It’s Danny.
I gape at him, my eyes darting from him to the radio that just played his voice. Maybe I crashed the car on the way here and here is the grim reaper preparing to move me on.
“Why are you crying?” Danny asks, the car light bathing his smooth skin in a golden ray.
“What the fuck?” is all I can say. I reach behind me with shaky hands and unbuckle the seat belt tugged painfully against my torso.
