Well that escalated.
“What are you talking about?”
“We’ll email your biggest gigs, the ones you really don’t want to lose, and tell them you’re injured but that you have someone willing to replace you. I may not be a jackass, but I do know they’ll want my name. Then I’ll plug you during the show. You can even give me some of your tracks to play. The exposure won’t be as great as playing yourself, but this way you’ll still get something.”
He already looks excited about it, but I just stare.
“Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because I—”
He cuts himself off, and I can see him grinding his jaw like he’s biting back whatever he was going to say.
I wait, and the longer he stays silent, the more charged the air between us becomes. I can feel the past pressing in, creeping from the corners of the room to surround us.
“Because I want us to move forward, Paige.” He says it softly, and it’s followed by a heavy breath. “I think we deserve that.”
It’s not an excuse or an explanation or even an apology for what he did, but maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s too late for any of that.
I thought I started moving forward a long time ago, but maybe I’ve been holding on tighter than I thought. If I’d really let go, I wouldn’t be so desperate to hear him say it was all a mistake, that he was as close to saying ‘I love you’ as I was all those times we held each other, that all our dreams and plans were real to him and not a stupid fantasy he had to shed and leave behind.
I’m not going to let myself be desperate.
“I don’t want to owe you.” I meant to sound stronger, but I can barely manage more than a whisper.
“That’s not what I...” He trails off and shakes his head. “You know what? Fine. You don’t have to owe me, or whatever. Let’s make a deal. Fair and equal.”
I startle a little at the force in his tone, but I raise an eyebrow to hide it.
“Another deal?”
“Yes. Another deal. I play your big shows for you—”
“How are you going to have time for that? What about your shows?”
He glares at the interruption. “I’m not playing much this fall. My manager wants me to focus on producing new stuff.”
“New stuff? So you—”
“Paige.”
A bit of the tension has worn off, and I can see him fighting not to laugh as he scolds me while I try not to crack up too.
“Excusez-moi,” I joke.
“Merci. May I continue?”
I nod and make a zipper motion over my mouth. That does get a laugh out of him.
“So, the challenge, should you choose to accept it, is this: I play your big shows for the next few weeks, and you come to my sister’s wedding with me at the end of the month.”
My laughter fades. “What? You mean as yourdate? I’m not going to—”
“Hear me out. My mom is insane about weddings and won’t get off my ass about me bringing someone for like, the symmetry of the pictures or whatever. Like I said, insane, but it’s going to make my life so much easier if I can bring someone I know. She set me up with someone for Noor’s wedding, and it was a fucking disaster.”
“Sandra is insane about weddings? I find that hard to believe,” I say. “And—wait. Noor is married? So this is Aaliyah’s wedding? Isn’t she like, a kid?”
He chuckles. “She’s a year older than you, and yeah, my mom is going nuts over the wedding, just like she did with Noor’s. I think it’s some repressed urge. She’s devastated my younger sister is getting married before me because apparently that suddenly matters to her? Like, you’d think it was her raised in the traditions of Coptic Orthodoxy, not my dad. She’s even been hanging out with his sister, and sheneverhangs out with his sister.”
