Kassidy's Crescendo (7 page)

Suddenly it felt like God was coming after him with a vengeance, and the choice to stay or go belonged entirely to Drew.

Siobhan perched on the edge of her seat, head tilted while she studied him. “Let me make one other thing perfectly clear,” she said. “Mess with her and you'll mess with all of us. But if you treat her well—like she deserves—you'll earn the unwavering love and loyalty of three women who will forever have your back.” After that came a challenging smile. “Just wanted to leave you with some food for thought, Hollywood.”

OK, that was a good one. She vacated her seat, sashayed past and ambled up the main aisle of the theater.

Drew lifted to a stand, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Yo. Sass-a-frass.”

She stopped and turned, eyes twinkling. “Yes, dear?”

He paused for a second or two. “Thanks. You're petite for a lioness, but you're pretty great.”

A smile filled her face, sunbeams bursting from behind the clouds. Siobhan retraced her steps and returned just long enough to lift on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. “Thanks. You're pretty great yourself.”

One of the main doors to the theater came open. Framed at the threshold was a blond haired man who captured Siobhan's attention. His presence elicited a squeal and a charging run from the tiny ballerina, which Drew monitored with amusement.

“AJ! What on earth are you doing here?” Siobhan leaped into his arms and punctuated their reunion with a delighted exclamation followed by a shower of kisses. “I've missed you like crazy!”

Doctor AJ Cooper. A swift, hard tug struck Drew's spirit. AJ—Coop to most—was the orthopedic surgeon who had rehabilitated and won the heart of the group's dancer.

“I decided to put the flex in flex scheduling.” He buried his face against her neck, humming a happy sound. “I rearranged my caseload at the hospital so I could watch the show tonight.”

Meaning the good doctor had spontaneously hopped a flight from New York to Denver. For Siobhan. Out of love. Drew watched the pair and wondered. What would it feel like to run like mad into the arms of someone who loved you that much? To receive that level of love in return, that level of joy?

Dazed, leagues away from his comfort zone, he tried to make sense of the rapidly unfolding pattern of his life. Forcing himself to go still, he rested in a silence that invited him to linger—to stay put and rest—but part of his soul rebelled, fighting that soothing sense of peace, tempting him to charge forward, to grasp and discover.

A battle raged until the image of Kassidy materialized within the chamber of his heart, releasing into his spirit. Drew readily imagined the sound of a deep, satisfied chuckle riding downward to earth from heaven above.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5

 

It was after eleven thirty by the time Kassidy worked free of costuming, hair accessories, makeup, and a short performance debrief. While team members scrutinized snippets of show video, Kassidy's attention kept sliding toward Drew, who leaned against the far wall of the green room, arms folded loosely against his chest, ankles crossed.

At last Liam dismissed the cast and crew. While team members exited the theater, Drew sidled forward, holding Kassidy's gaze. “You still game for that coffee and dessert you mentioned earlier?”

“Of course.”

“Good, because I touched base with the hotel concierge. He told me there's a place called Cleo's that serves incredible handmade pies, and they're open twenty-four-seven.”

He had taken the lead. Like a suitor. How chivalrous and charming. “That sounds perfect. Thanks for the effort. After the calories I expended during tonight's show, I've earned the right to indulge, no matter what Elizabeth Portier might think.”

Drew took her hand, tucked it into the crook of his arm. Kassidy synched her footfalls to his while they strode from the performance facility.

“Have I discovered the one person on earth who strikes fear into the heart of Kassidy Cartwright?”

Kassidy nodded in earnest. “Absolutely.”

His answering laugh tickled her tummy, made her smile just because the sound was so delicious. Following a short walk, they entered a quaint, brightly lit bistro-style eatery. The shop specialized in sweet treats accompanied by gourmet coffees and teas. The aromas alone left Kassidy to sigh with bliss. Warmth inside chased away every trace of autumn's wind-swept arrival through the streets of Denver.

Drew seated her at a round, wooden table for two. “What's your favorite pie?”

Kassidy slipped out of her jacket and unwound a long, fluffy scarf of Kelly green from around her neck. “It's a toss-up, really. Strawberry and peach.” She smiled into his eyes. “Surprise me.”

“That can be arranged, KC.”

The teasing rejoinder, the smooth timber of his voice combined to give Kassidy a case of goose bumps that had nothing to do with the chilly temps they had just left behind. Additionally, his inaugural use of her nickname both charmed and piqued.

He returned carrying a tray outfitted with two decaf French vanilla lattes, a slice of strawberry crème and a slice of peach. The scoundrel.

“We'll mix and match.” He dropped into the chair across from hers. He scooted a bit closer, so they were side-by-side rather than face to face. He leaned against the table, watching while she took a sip of her beverage and claimed the first bite of peach.

The intensity of his regard left her tingling—delightfully off balance. “What? Do I already have a whipped-cream mustache or something?”

“No. It's just…I like watching you. Sorry.”

“Don't apologize. I'm flattered. Disconcerted, but flattered.”

“Disconcerted?” Drew met her gaze straight on. “Join the club.”

She propped an elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her hand. She itched to reach out and caress the curve of his chin, to dance her fingertips against his cheek. As adrenaline drained away and exhaustion escalated, her defenses became weak.

After an inhale and an exhale, she moved slightly away from temptation. “I'm always so wired after a show. It feels good to unwind. Thanks for this.”

“Thanks for suggesting it. How were the radio interviews this afternoon?”

“The one at KJCD was awesome. They're the Christian station in town, and they've been playing three selections off the album—Friends, The Story of Us, and El Shaddai. The DJ told us El Shaddai is climbing their weekly countdown at a fast clip.”

“I'm not at all surprised, but that's fantastic confirmation.”

“The one at KWWF was OK, but nothing to write home about. Both stations played our cover of Friends while we visited, so the exposure was nice.” Kassidy sipped through a thick layer of foam that painted the top of her latte. “I meant to tell you before I left how much I admire the way you took care of the kids at rehearsal today. It made all the difference in how they approached the performance.”

“They were great, weren't they?” Drew's shoulder brushed against hers as he leaned forward and forked himself a chunk of strawberry crème pie. He smiled wide and sweet; a shiver stirred. “The kids simply followed your advice. I was just doing my job.”

Kassidy ingested another soothing sip of coffee then nibbled a piece of peach pie. It was outstanding. “You did far more than just a job, Drew. You have a fantastic way with kids. You didn't single out Tony, or make him feel bad, even though he was the worst offender when it came to pre-performance jitters.”

Drew shrugged, wiping his lips with a napkin. “Why would I do that? In one way or another, they all suffered from nerves. How could they not? It was a huge venue, with a spectacular set and orchestration—plus four dazzling women.” He winked, which made Kassidy giggle—and blush. “It's understandable they'd be intimidated.”

The words gave her pause. Caging her emotions toward Drew didn't work any longer. The barriers weren't strong enough to withstand Kassidy's ongoing discovery of the man. She leaned close once again, this time ready to reach out—to communicate affection in a soft, gliding touch, a—

“Excuse me, umm, Kassidy? Kassidy Cartwright?”

Kassidy froze, refraining from the impulse to snuggle just a tiny bit closer to Drew as a young lady and her mom approached their table. She greeted the pair with a wide, inviting smile. “Yes?”

“Hi, I'm Jennifer Wilson.” The girl—a budding teenager perhaps—took the lead, not one bit shy about stepping forward. “I was at your show tonight. I want to tell you how cool it was. Sisters in Spirit is amazing. My mom and I listen to your music all the time and we're such big fans.”

Kassidy gave Jennifer's mom a grateful smile. “I appreciate that very much. And it's nice to meet you both. I'm so glad you enjoyed the show. We're grateful you were there.”

Emboldened and pink-cheeked, Jennifer held out a white paper napkin and a pen. “Could I please have your autograph? My friends at school won't even believe I got to see you face-to-face, and I really hate to bother you when you're eating and everything, but I just couldn't leave without saying hello.”

How Kassidy kept from melting into a puddle was beyond her comprehension.

“I see your mom has her phone handy.” Drew interjected. “Would you like me to take a few pictures?”

“Oh, my gosh. Could you? Would you? Seriously?”

“My pleasure.” While Drew claimed the cellphone, Kassidy curved an arm around Jennifer's waist. “You might think I made your night, sweetheart, but in all honesty, it's you who've made mine. Thank you.”

They exchanged a heartfelt, candid look and a camera flash left Kassidy to realize Drew had captured the moment. Next, Jennifer and her mom settled in for a formal shot, along with a two-shot of Kassidy and Jennifer before the ladies took their leave.

Dazed, Kassidy blew out a shaky breath. “I'm so not used to that, but”—she giggled and gave Drew's arm a squeeze—“it's
so cool
. She's touched by our music, Drew. She's a young girl who listens to our songs. She's absorbing our message—with her mom! What a miracle.”

For a few seconds, Kassidy closed her eyes and went still, offering a silent, spontaneous prayer of gratitude. When her eyes came open, she found Drew studying her.

“You're a rare breed, KC.”

Still glowing, she polished off the last bite of strawberry pie. “How so?”

“This whole odyssey isn't about being noticed. It's not about earning fame and the limelight.”

“Nope. Never has been.”

“I respect that about you. Working with your group has made me realize how much I wish more entertainers would adopt that kind of mindset.”

The unexpected praise stirred her heart. “You're a true gentleman, Drew, and I'm impressed by you all over again. Not to mention grateful.”

He pushed back from the table, fingering the now empty dessert plates. Once again, his deflective, self-effacing behavior ignited lush fire against the fine hairs of her arms.

“Why grateful? That's why we do this, right? To touch lives, to create an imprint with the message we want to deliver.”

“True, but tonight we were sharing a quiet moment together. In instances like that, it's easy to forget about graciousness and understanding. We endured a long, tiring day but you stepped up and made that girl's night, even though a private date was interrupted.”

“You and the Sisters team must be rubbing off on me.”

He smiled off the praise but Kassidy saw through Drew's polished mask.

“You guys play for the good team,” he continued. “You operate on a different plane and you're amazing. You're inspiring, and I mean that.”

Kassidy's restless fingertips fiddled with the handle of her coffee cup. “Don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Please don't hold me or any the rest of us up to an ideal that's impossible to maintain. We're far from perfect. Aileen is insecure. Maeve has a temper. Siobhan is so sensitive to the ones she loves that seeing to their happiness sometimes sacrifices her own.”

He pondered that, it seemed. “And what's your kryptonite, KC?”

“I'm not sure of my place.” The answer burst free, pushing through her mind. It was a point she had never broached, even with her closest friends. Not giving herself time to reconsider, Kassidy looked into his eyes. “In the group I mean.”

She spoke quietly, with uncertainty. Drew's features revealed nothing in the way of a reaction. His stillness, his waiting posture, prompted her onward.

“Maeve is the performer. Siobhan is the dancer. Aileen is the lead, the angel voice. Let's just say I'm uncertain of my niche.”

“I think I might be able to help you with that.”

“Really?” Kassidy cast him a teasing look, masking the insecurity that nipped at her heels whenever she looked at her life in comparison to her friends.

“Don't you get it, Kassidy? You're the perfect blend of all three. You're the hybrid. You have incredible stage presence, and you're a wonderful singer. You move with beauty and grace. Your niche is your ability to combine many talents into one amazing package. You're a natural. Plus, you've got magnetism. Charisma.”

She kept quiet, drawing the conversation to a stop. Meanwhile, she fought to recover from the beautiful words, the praise. She didn't want Drew's opinions to sway her into dangerous territory. Like ego. Like falling hard for a complex, difficult man.

Just as quickly, though, the essence of his truest character filled her heart—the man full of gentleness, thoughtful care, and passions that ran deep and strong. More restraining walls blew; more of her emotions broke free.

“You could be describing someone else I know. You.”

Now it was Drew who looked away. Was he off balance, she wondered. Searching, just like her?