“I need a minute,” Ethan said.
Ang frowned at him, then shrugged and opened the door, revealing an eager-looking young man standing on the other side.
“He needs a minute,” Ang said, and closed the door while the kid was going, “What? What?” and trying to look around him at Ethan.
Ethan sat on a chair that was too small in front of a mirror that was too big and reached for his phone.
It played a guitar riff just as he put his hand on it and Lily’s pretty face lit up the screen. His smile was so wide, he thought she could probably hear it. “I was just gonna call you,” he said by way of greeting.
“Aren’t you about to go on?” she asked. “Don’t let me make you late. I just wanted to say ‘break a leg.’”
“Thanks. I have a minute.” He slid a look at Ang, and Ang read it perfectly, held up two palms, and exited the room. Ethan returned to his call. “Lil, this is…it’s not a bar. It’s a concert hall.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“You sent me your itinerary. I looked it up. It has three-thousand forty-five seats.”
“They said it’s sold out.”
“Oh, Ethan that’s wonderful!”
“My knees are knockin’.”
She laughed softly and the sound of it made him laugh too. Then she said, “Nobody’s gonna see that, though. They’re gonna see a big, strong, broad-shouldered, handsome-as-hell cowboy with more confidence than he could hold in a ten-gallon hat.”
“I wish you were here,” he said, and then he couldn’t believe he’d said it. It had just come out. They hadn’t talked. He’d left her. And they hadn’t really talked.
He was an idiot. What if he lost her? What if she decided he wasn’t worth all the trouble?
“I’d be there if I could,” she said.
“How’s Two Lilies goin’?”
“Great. I even have a surprise for you in progress. But you’re late to the stage,” she said. “Get out there and do your job. We can talk more later, okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You’ve got this, Ethan. You’re amazing, you know.”
She disconnected before he could say anything back.
Ethan heaved a heavy sigh, set his phone down, and picked up his guitar. When he opened the door, Angelo was standing in front of it, fists on his hips in a “none shall pass” stance. The young man on the other side of Ang had peach-fuzz whiskers in uneven patches his mom probably nagged him to shave.
The kid said, “Phew.” Didn’t make the sound, actually said the word, “Phew. Let’s go.” Then he turned and led the way to the stage, and a disembodied voice said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Ethan Brand.”
He walked out there to the loudest applause he’d ever received. He couldn’t even hear his bootsteps cross the stage to the mic. He looked out into the spotlight’s glare, gave a wave, and said, “Thanks, friends. I ‘preciate that.” And then he didn’t know what else to do, so he just started playing.
As soon as his pick crossed the strings, he fell into the music and left his nerves behind.
Everybody in the Brand clan had gone out to one or more of Ethan’s shows. He left their names with the crew at every venue. Hers, too, and she hoped he understood why she couldn’t get away. If he didn’t already, he sure would when he got home, because the Two Lilies Honky-Tonk was going to be amazing.
Lily walked through the place after nearly everyone else had gone home. It was her favorite part of the day, walking through alone, admiring the progress. Even if she wasn’t quite alone tonight.
The walls were freshly painted in color blocks of green, white, and red. Their wall sockets naked, wires sprouting from some. The wide doorway into the addition was untrimmed, but the color was in place. She could hardly wait to apply the border she had planned. She would stencil it herself, a line from one of Ethan’s song’s, she just hadn’t decided which one.
Everyone had gone except Willow, who’d been sticking to her like glue ever since Ethan had left. Everyone got nervous when they’d learned the dead man’s driver had returned from wherever he’d been, and was once again working for the Silvers—big brother Nathan this time. But they hadn’t heard a word from the fentanyl king. His younger brother’s death had been ruled an accident, and apparently the young driver hadn’t told him any different.
