Blue Horizons (A Horizons Novel Book 1) (24 page)

“What?” he says, completely unaware of the irritation floating between all of us.

Smoothing out the skirt to my gown, the clutch on my lap vibrates. I unsnap the clasp and pull out my phone.

Ash: When can I see you again?

A smile instantly lightens my face.

Me: Who says I want to see you?

Ash: Ouch, you wound me.

Me: I highly doubt that.

Ash: I’m serious. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.

Me: Tomorrow too soon?

Ash: Where are you?

Me: Wouldn’t you like to know?

Ash: I would, very much so.

Me: Well, it just so happens I’m in Nashville.

Ash: Really? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? If I didn’t have to work tonight, I’d come find you. Btw—why are you here?

Me: You’re working on a holiday weekend?

Ash: So now you’re curious . . . wouldn’t you like to know?

Me: I would.

Ash: All right, let’s talk about all this tomorrow.

Me: Text me when you wake up.

Ash: You know I wake up early.

Me: I do.

Ash: Hope you have a great night.

Me: You too.

Glancing up, I realize the car has gone silent and everyone is watching me.

“What?” I can’t help but ask with a grin on my face.

“Who are you texting?” Emma eyes me suspiciously.

My grin turns into a full megawatt smile.

Emma gasps, “I knew it! Oh my God, this is huge! You’re going to see him tomorrow, aren’t you?” She claps her hands together and then leans over to squeeze my leg.

“Yep.”

She squeals and bounces up and down in her seat.

“Who? Who is she going to see tomorrow?” Mona’s looking at me a little panicked.

“Ash,” Cora chimes in, excitedly.

Mona’s eyes narrow as she locks in on me. The wheels are turning in her head, and it’s all business related. I’ve always been the perfect client to her. Never has she had to deal with my publicist, or clean up any messes that usually come with being in the entertainment industry. I don’t go out, I don’t drink very much, I don’t use recreational or prescribed drugs, and I don’t date.

“Have you talked to Clay?” I ask Emma.

She shakes her head. “No. I mean, I have, but no, I didn’t tell him we were in town.” She looks away from me and out the window. I thought she liked him . . . hmm.

“Who’s Clay?” Mona’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. Poor Mona.

“Oh, Clay’s his best friend,” Cora volunteers, grinning.

“Girls, I don’t like surprises. Av, I’m surprised at this little tidbit, but excited for you. Please keep me in the loop.” She gives me the mom voice.

My phones buzzes and I look down.

Ash: I’m really excited to see you tomorrow.

Me: Me too. :)

The limo finally comes to a stop at a red welcome carpet for incoming guests. More photographers have lined the steps and street looking to see who will be at tonight’s event.

“Wow, they went all out,” says Emma as she climbs out of the limo.

“Yeah, I think it’s nice.” I stare up at the six large columns that grace the entrance. Flashes erupt against the night sky, momentarily blinding me, and I drop my head.

Together, the three of us walk up the front steps of the Schermerhorn Symphony Center, home to the Nashville Symphony. It feels very surreal to me. Emma and I once came to a performance here years ago, right after we started at Julliard, but neither of us has been back since. Not even when we were on tour. It’s a shame too, it’s known for its acoustics, stunning architecture, and recognized as one of the best concert halls in America.

Right and left, people are calling our names. I hate it. Why they think that’s actually going to work in gaining someone’s attention, I’ll never know. But each of us plays our part, ignoring what we can.

“Don’t forget to smile,” Mona sings out from behind us.

At the top of the steps, we are ushered over to a photographer standing in front of a NO MORE backdrop. The three of us pose and then head inside.

The main lobby is just as grand as I remember it. My eyes soak in the massive white marble columns and the chandeliers. Blue accents have been placed throughout the space, to represent the NO MORE logo, and everyone is dressed elegantly for the black-tie affair.

“Ladies,” a voice comes from our right. Mr. Lang, the lead organizer for tonight’s event, is walking our way. “I’m so happy to see you again. You’ll never know what it means to have each of you here tonight to perform for us.” His hands land on my upper arms and he leans in to kiss my cheek. I freeze, suck in a deep breath, and he pulls back. The greeting is over. I hate how this makes me feel. Allowing someone into your personal space should be asked first, not assumed.

He cheek kisses Emma, Cora, Mona, and shakes Scott’s hand. My eyes roll at Scott’s apparent haughtiness, when he shouldn’t even be here.

“We’re happy to support this cause. Thank you for inviting us,” I say, taking a step back away from him.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to personally introduce you to a few of our top supporters this evening. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Of course, we’d love to meet them,” Emma says with her usual grace.

“Fantastic.” He claps his hands together, and leads us through the lobby and into the concert hall. The theater-style seating has been removed and in its place is a gorgeous hardwood floor. Round tables have been set up in the back half of the room, and along the walls. They’ve left the front near the stage open for dancing.

“Ah, here we go. Mr. Hale, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Layne and her friends. They’ve kindly agreed to perform for us this evening.” Mr. Lang smiles at all of us.

“Hey, I’m Beau, it’s nice to meet you.” He reaches out to shake my hand, Emma’s, and Cora’s.

I’d recognize Beau Hale just about anywhere, Mr. Heartthrob Tennis Champion himself.

“This is my friend, Jude Jamison.” He tilts his head to the guy standing next to him.

Cora steps in a little closer to me and reaches out to shake his hand. Jude’s eyes widen and run over the length of her, clearly liking what he sees. Pinching my lips together, I hold in a laugh. She may be from the Upper East Side, but she has a thing for athletes over the suits of Wall Street, and she just might have found her next challenge.

Pulling the attention off of them, I face Beau. “So, why NO MORE?” I ask him.

“Why not?” he beams. It’s easy to see why he’s frequently found on the cover of magazines. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he smiles genuinely at me. “I have a vested interest in raising awareness for those who suffer from abuse, no matter what kind. People should be made to feel they have a way out that’s positive and not a dead end, if you catch my drift.”

He winks at me; I like this guy. The stories about him being sincerely nice seem pretty accurate.

“I do.” We smile at each other and share a knowing look.

“Thank you, Mr. Hale.” Mr. Lang reaches out to shake his hand again, alerting all of us that it’s time to move on.

“Of course.” He smiles at Mr. Lang and then winks at me again.

News of our arrival spreads pretty quickly. As we move around the room, people are now full-on staring, leaving me uncomfortable. Giving Mona a look that she recognizes, she nods her head understanding that it’s time for us to go.

“I just have one more person, and then I’ll let you be on your way. Last I heard, he was down front enjoying the music.” Mr. Lang waves his hand in the direction of the stage. A small ensemble of the Nashville Symphony is currently on the stage playing jazz.

Approaching a high top table set off to the side, the man’s back is to us, but his black cowboy hat immediately has the hairs standing up on my arms. With the heels of our shoes clicking on the floor, he feels us approach, turns, and my world stops.

“Ash.” His name slips from my lips just barely a whisper. The only person to hear me is Mona, and her head whips from looking at me to him.

He is even more attractive than I remember, and my eyes drift down the length of him. His face is smooth, stubble free, and he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo. He’s holding a highball glass with an amber liquid, and his other hand is tucked into his pants pocket. Add in the hat, and one word comes to mind: sexy. He’s so handsome, it should be a sin.

Blue eyes appraise me, and my body flushes under his perusal. I’m at a loss as to whether I should say something or not, but then again, I’m not even sure I could. Just being in his presence, he fills all of my senses. My mind is scattered, and as he pinches his lips together, I’m consumed with the few moments we’ve had together and what those lips feel like on me.

Mr. Lang leans over and places his hand on Ash’s shoulder.

“Will, I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Avery Layne. She and her friends have graciously agreed to perform for us this evening and we couldn’t be more thrilled to have her here with us. Ms. Layne, this is Mr. Will Ashton. You may already know of him, but what most don’t know is that he is one of our largest supporters, and this evening we consider him to be a guest of honor.”

Wait!

What?

Did he just say Will Ashton?

Cora gasps next to me.

My eyes flip back to his and his face is expressionless. Seeing him now, here with the cowboy hat, how—just how—did I not recognize him? Apparently, Cora didn’t either.

My mind starts racing and several things hit me all at once.

I spent the weekend with the great Will Ashton—a legend in country music.

Will Ashton, as in lead singer of the Blue Horizons.

No wonder he didn’t tell me who he was.

Suddenly, I feel faint.

I NEVER IN a million years expected to see Ava tonight. The Ava that I know is quiet, reserved, not a large crowd type of person. She has crazy, white blonde, curly hair, her nose is pierced, her beautiful skin is covered in freckles, her eyes are blue, and she wears rock band t-shirts. But looking at her standing in front of me now, I’m starting to think that I don’t know her at all.

I’ll be damned.

This woman before me looks like an angel, and seeing her like this, I was right when I thought there was something familiar about her. I’ve seen her numerous times on television, at different awards ceremonies, and in various venues over the last couple of years. I thought maybe I was recognizing her on a deeper level, like a down-in-my-soul level, but now I don’t know.

For a split second my mind begins to doubt Mr. Lang and that this couldn’t possibly be her, but as my eyes lock onto hers, I see a mutually shocked expression in them. I know this look; I’ve seen it before. That look reaches right into my stomach and squeezes.

Her hair is straight and so long it falls almost to the arch in her lower back. The nose piercing is removed, her makeup is done so her skin looks flawless, and her eyes are green.
Green
. She’s wearing a strapless, pale pink, sparkly gown that is fitted to her waist and flows in layer after layer to the ground. The skin across her shoulders and upper chest look polished and has some type of shimmery sheen on it. Her makeup is soft, her lips are glossy, she has in earrings that dangle diamonds, and she looks more exquisite and elegant than anything I have ever seen. She takes my breath away, even in this nearly unrecognizable state.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Ava reaches out her hand for me to shake and instinctively I pull my hand from my pocket and my fingers slide in between hers. She’s shaking. She’s nervous. I hate that. Unable to not have her closer, I pull her forward to brush a greeting kiss against her cheek. The familiar scent of strawberries wafts by and calms me with the comfort that the girl I met is in there buried under all this. As my lips connect with her cheek, she tilts her head slightly into me, laying her face against mine. My eyes close at the contact and I let out a breath. Mr. Lang’s voice breaks the moment as he continues talking, not realizing that neither one of us is paying him a whit of attention.