I feel empowered. Overjoyed and proud. Really fucking proud. I did it. I am the reason for the chants and whistles.
I take a bow, and as I come up, I skim the crowd. I’m not sure anything could bring me down from this high. What’s even better is that I can feel him watching me. He’s here. I just know it.
Now, I have to find him.
I’m heading back to the door of the sound room where I entered the stage from, but my movements stop before I reach it. I’m frozen in place—stunned at the familiar face before me.
“Byron?” I mutter, feeling the prominent crease in my forehead. Why is he here?
Once my head unfogs slightly, I continue to cross the stage in his direction. “What…what are you doing here? Did Cal send you?”
Byron places a hand on the small of my back, motioning me inside the room. “That was amazing, Bella. Even better than the recording I heard.”
“Cut the bullshit, Byron. What’s going on? Where’s Cal?”
“Cal?” He laughs. “What makes you think Cal is here?”
My heart sinks into my stomach, deeply and painfully. “You mean, he’s not? Then—”
“Cal’s gone, Bella. On the verge of being presumed dead. Why the hell would you think he was here?”
My brows perk, and a moment of hope washes through me. I’m confident Byron will feel the same way, once he hears what I’m about to say. “No. He’s here somewhere. He’s not dead, Byron.”
His puzzled look leads me to believe he’s skeptical, so I continue, “Cal is the only one who knew about that song. He had to have recorded me playing it for him during my stay at Cori Cove. He’s the one who sent the tape. He’s alive.”
“Great performance, Isabella,” Paul, the booking manager, says. “Your unease was for nothing.” He smiles kindly, and while I know I should thank him for everything—the pep talk an hour ago, the opportunity—all I can focus on is Cal.
“Thank you, Paul. It was a pleasure to have had this opportunity.” I grab Byron by the arm and pull him away, probably a little too rudely, so we’re able to talk in private.
Once we’re away from all the backstage people, I look up at him. “Please Byron, tell me you don’t really think he’s dead? How can you?” I wave my arms around. “I’m here because he brought me here.”
It’s the only reason I came. Sure, playing at this place is a dream, but I would have likely torn up the invitation and never given it a second thought had it not been for the song chosen.
Byron scrunches his shoulders, his expression loaded with sorrow that I have the urge to smack away as I scream that he’s wrong! “Sorry, Bella. No one has seen or heard from Callum since he went missing. If he were alive, I have no doubt that you’d be the first to know. He loved you.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I ward them off. “Then who would have…” I take a few steps back, bumping into some control panels. “It was you, wasn’t it? You sent the audition?”
“It was a beautiful piece. I thought you deserved recognition for your talent.”
No! “No! It couldn’t have been. How…how did you get it? Why would you…”
I can’t even speak, unable to form a coherent sentence. For the last week, I’ve had hope. Celebrating the holidays, knowing I was going to see Cal soon.
My legs feel weak. There’s a chair to my left, so I grab it and pull it over, then sit down.
“I went back to Cori Cove to search for answers as to where Callum might be. While I was going through some of his belongings—”
My eyes snap to him. “You went through his things?”
“I’m his attorney, Bella, and also his friend. Yes, I went through his things…to try and help him. I found a recorder and hit Play. It was the same song I heard playing the night I escorted you to the ballroom to meet him.”
“And you just took it upon yourself to interfere with my life and send in my recording?”
“Well,” Byron chuckles unnervingly, “if we’re being technical here, it was Callum’s, which, in turn, makes it mine, considering I am the rightful beneficiary of his estate.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I glower at him. His stance over me feels domineering, and I’m not in the mood for it. “Well, Byron,” I emphasize as I stand up, “you being the beneficiary to his estate does not mean you get to control me or my life. In fact, no one does. Not even Callum. So thanks for setting all this up. But it’s over now and you can go home.”
Disappointed doesn’t even begin to explain how I feel. I’m gutted. Downright heartbroken.
It was him all this time. It was never Cal.
Spinning on my heels, I begin unstrapping the left one as I walk, yanking it off my foot. Then the other, until I’m padding barefoot to the dressing room.
Fortunately, Byron doesn’t follow me in, so I close the door and chuck my shoes in a corner, having no interest in bringing those damn things home with me. I can’t believe I ever wanted to own all the dresses and shoes in the world. I had princess dreams as a child, but as I get older, dreams fade and reality slaps you in the face.
As I’m getting dressed, there’s a knock at the door. I quickly finish by stepping into a pair of gray sweats and throwing on a black crewneck sweatshirt, then step into my, already laced-up, tennis shoes.
It’s probably Byron. I can’t imagine he brought me all this way just so I could play a song and leave. I don’t like the guy much. Not only did Cal warn me before he went missing that Byron was up to no good, I’m also pretty sure he was only Cal’s friend for his money. I shouldn’t speculate, because I don’t know much about their working relationship or friendship, but I took notice of the small things he did to piss Cal off.
“One moment, please,” I holler as I roll up my dress and stuff it into a duffle bag.
With my bag and purse flung over my shoulder, I open the door, and sure enough, there he is. One arm pressed to the frame, a smirk on his face.
“I’m sorry,” he says with remorse in his tone. “We got off on the wrong foot. Can we start again?”
“There’s nothing to start, or finish, Byron. Please move. I have a warm bed at a nice hotel waiting for me.” When he just stands there, gawking, I tip my head to his arm. “Do you mind?”
“Oh, right.” He drops his arm and steps aside.
I go out and begin down the hall as he walks at my side, so I say, “I know he’s alive. You can believe whatever you want, but he’s out there, and I will find him.”
“I’ve got no doubt that you will.” I catch his glance in my peripheral. “Assuming he is alive and all.”
My palms press to the exit door and I step into the darkness of the parking lot. Snow falls softly to the ground but melts before accumulating. It’s cold here in New York City, but it’s no different from home in Rhode Island.
I click the remote start on my car, but something stops me from walking. None of this makes any sense to me. I look at him, shivering under the lamppost as people pass by in the parking lot. “Why did you come here, Byron?”
Byron stuffs his hands in the pocket of his black trench coat, snow sprinkling on his sandy blond hair. “Came to watch you play.”