Watching Jackson leave the bar, Meghan tried to blink away tears, but the effort of keeping herself from crying made her throat tight. Instead of rich and full, her voice came out like a nail file sliding across sandpaper. And behind the bar, Steve didn’t look happy.

Sure enough, he came over as she finished the song. Swallowing hard, she put her guitar down. If only she had a handkerchief to pat her eyes dry. Wiping them with her fingers was probably smearing her mascara all over her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked, though she got the feeling he was only asking to be polite and didn’t really want to know.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in just a minute.” She willed her tears away with everything she had. If only her anger hadn’t released its grip, she would have been fine. But the feeling of loss was like a black hole had opened up inside her. After years of feeling like her career was going nowhere, to have Jackson imply she wasn’t good enough to get a recording contract on her own had shaken her. What if he was right? What if she was wasting her time?

Steve cleared his throat. “Listen, Meghan—”

She interrupted quickly. “Look, I know this is unprofessional. I’m sorry. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll get myself together and finish the set without any more drama.”

He shook his head, his mouth twisted to one side. “I said I’d give you a chance, but this isn’t working out. Sorry. You’ve got a nice voice, but it’s the wrong vibe.”

“The wrong vibe,” she repeated slowly. A polite way to say he didn’t want a bawling singer with a raspy voice making a scene in his bar. She dragged in a breath, lifted her chin, and put her hand out to shake his. “Fair enough. Thanks for the opportunity anyway. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

It wasn’t until she was safely outside that she let herself curse. Heads turned as she spat out loud expletives, but her rage turned into more tears. After convincing someone to give her a chance, she’d managed to blow it.

She should have kept her cool. Thing was, when Jackson had walked in, her heart had expanded as though it was pumped full of helium. She’d realized her delighted grin had to look goofy, but hadn’t cared. The happiness she’d felt to see him had been the only thing that mattered. And in that moment, she’d known for sure that she was in love with Jackson Brent.

Which had made his accusation even harder to bear.

As many times as she’d tried to scale the mountain, she kept sliding right back to the bottom. So, should she finally give up and admit defeat? Should she find a nice, safe office job like her mother had always wanted? Or maybe she could ride on the coattails of Trey’s success by writing his songs and helping him have the career she’d always dreamed of.

She shook her head. “Screw you,” she muttered to herself. “I’m not doing that. I’m not beaten yet.”

Only what the hell was she going to do now?

Meghan slowly sipped a glass of white wine. It had a sharp, slightly unpleasant tang, probably because Geena had bought them both a glass of the cheapest wine the bar offered.

Maybe Geena’s adult toy store wasn’t doing so well. Hadn’t she said it was having teething problems? Her friend might be trying to do a little sorrow-drowning of her own.

“You haven’t been able to get any singing jobs?” asked Geena, running one hand through her bright pink hair.

Geena was wearing a fitted green vintage dress from the fifties, and some of the bar’s other patrons had given the two women a second glance when they’d walked in together. But colorful people were everywhere in Sydney, so the glance was fleeting. Now the two of them were perched on stools at one of the bar’s high tables, and the juke box was playing Love Hurts.

Meghan was in serious danger of singing along. Loudly.

“Problem is, nobody knows me in Sydney.” She tried not to let her frustration bubble into her voice. “There are only a limited number of bars that offer live music, and they’re already booked solid with performers.”

“What about this place?” Geena jerked her head toward the jukebox. “They’ve only got canned music. A singer would be nice.”

“I asked the manager already. He wasn’t interested.” Meghan drained her glass of wine. The more she drank, the less she noticed the nasty tang. What the hell, she could probably stretch her funds to cover another glass. Call it an emergency expense.

“Actually, I’ve spoken to the manager of every decent bar in Sydney,” she added.

“So you’ll go to the indecent ones next?”

Meghan attempted a smile. It felt more like a grimace.

Geena touched her hand. “That bad, huh?”

Before Meghan could answer, her phone rang. She checked the screen. Jackson. The sight of his name made her heart lurch, but like she’d done every other time he’d called over the last couple of days, she sent it to voice mail. If she answered it, she’d want to see him. And if she saw him, she’d be tempted to run back to that romantic island with him, instead of following her plan.

Geena raised her eyebrows. “Could have been a bar owner calling to offer you a job.”

“It was Jackson.”

Her friend leaned forward, pursing her ruby-red lips. “I was just about to ask what was going on with him.”

“Tell you the truth, what went on with him is one of the reasons I’m feeling blue.”

“Oh, of course. Because men’s superpower is making women unhappy.”

“He’s even better looking than he used to be in high school. And he’s mostly the same, only he doesn’t play guitar anymore and now he has an insane lifestyle. So much luxury, it’s coming out his ears.”

“I can tell by that look in your eyes how much you like him. And he’s good-looking, smart, and super wealthy. Where’s the catch?”

“The super wealthy part is the catch.”

Geena picked up her wine glass. “I don’t follow.”

“It’s complicated. But one thing that keeps tripping me up is that he’s got all that, while I’m working out if I can afford another glass of truly awful wine.”

“It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Geena drained hers and put down the empty glass with her nose wrinkled. “Second glass will probably taste better. I’ll get us another one. My shout.” She waved off Meghan’s protest and went to the bar. When she came back with full glasses, she said, “You kept comparing yourself to Jackson?”

“Not that I was comparing myself, so much. But our problems did seem to be tied into the fact he’s got a lot of money.”

“That’s something he can’t really change.”

Meghan sighed, rubbing condensation off the side of her glass. “No.”

“So maybe you’ll have to get over it.”

Her head jerked up. “What?”

“I mean it.” Geena still sounded sympathetic, but there was steel behind her words. “Either you want to be with him or you don’t. And if you do, then why worry about how much money he has?”

“It’s not that simple. Jackson doesn’t trust me. He thought I might have tried to sell secrets to his competitor.”

“It’s been a lot of years since high school, and you only ran into him again, what, a week and a half ago?” Geena shook her head. “Remember what his family was like? He was always suspicious of people, and who can blame him? You can’t expect him to trust you again right away.” She waved her wine glass to emphasize her point, and almost spilled her drink. “Trust takes time. If you’re not willing to give him that time, it’s on you.”

Meghan swallowed. She’d thought her friend would make comforting noises and agree with everything she said. “That’s not what I expected you to say.”

“I can lie if you want and tell you the perfect relationship is easy. But there’s always going to be compromise, no matter what.” Geena grimaced. “But hey, I’m single. What do I know? Only you can decide how much Jackson means to you and how much you’re prepared to compromise to be with him.”

Meghan took a sip of her wine, swilling it around her mouth to give herself time to think. What would it be like to let all her misgivings and doubts go? She hadn’t wanted to be distracted from carrying out her plan, but she spent all her time thinking about Jackson anyway. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the day he’d run into her car.

It had gotten so bad she kept drifting off in the middle of cooking meals, showering, or brushing her teeth. Then she would come to with a jolt and realize she must have been staring off into space while her dinner burned.

“I think I might be in love with him,” she admitted. “I know it’s crazy, but that’s why I’ve got myself twisted into knots. I don’t want to be in love with anyone. Coming to Sydney was supposed to be a new start, a chance to focus on my career. In Melbourne, I let my ex and my agent drag me down, so the last thing I need is to jump into a new relationship.”

“You’ve got to do what’s right for you,” Geena agreed. “Especially if Jackson’s going to drag you down.”

“No, he doesn’t. Not Jackson.” Meghan shook her head. “I’m not explaining this very well, but that’s not what I meant. Jackson’s nothing like my ex. I feel good when I’m with him. At least, when he’s not accusing me of stealing his secrets.”

“Your ex and your agent stopped you from getting what you wanted in Melbourne. But in a way, aren’t you letting them do the same thing now? I mean, if they’re part of the reason you’re sitting here having a horrible glass of wine with me, instead of living it up with Jackson.”

“That’s not why I’m here with you. I’ve been looking forward to catching up.”

“So have I. But you’re not yourself. You look sad.” Geena dropped her chin to give her a stern look. “What would make you happy?”

“Getting a regular gig in a bar and finishing some new demo tracks.” Meghan sighed. “And being with Jackson,” she admitted. “But it needs to be in that order. Otherwise I feel like I’m letting myself down.”

“So once you’ve got your career going, you’ll give Jackson a chance? How successful do you have to be? Superstar status, or just working enough that you can cover your bills?”

“Cover my bills.” It slipped out quickly, before she had time to think about it. Meghan had to laugh at herself. Maybe Geena was right and she was making this harder than it needed to be. One foot on the mountain was all she needed. As nice as superstar status would be, she didn’t have to wait that long. Knowing she was on her way would make all the difference.

Geena lifted her glass. “Talent as big as yours, that won’t take long. Let’s drink to it, shall we? First a job, then you give your heart free reign.” She grinned. “And the parts lower than your heart. Let’s drink to letting them loose too.”

Meghan picked up her own glass and clinked it against Geena’s. “Cheers,” she said whole-heartedly. “And thanks. You’ve made me feel a whole lot better about everything.”

“What are friends for?”

“Speaking of friends, how’s Ally?” asked Meghan. “I’ve been dying to hear more about her dominatrix job.”

Geena winced. “You don’t want to know. The entire thing has turned into a shit-storm.”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I wish I could tell you. I’m sorry, it’s totally not fair for me to get tight-lipped when in your shoes I’d be dying to know. But I promised I wouldn’t say a word.”

“You can’t leave it hanging—”

“I know.” Geena held up both hands, shaking her head and making her pink hair bob around her shoulders. “I’m a terrible person. But the guy she was with? He’s Hollywood-level famous, and Ally’s gone and fallen for him when I specifically warned her not to. It’s an impossible situation.” She picked up her glass again to take a sip, realized it was empty, frowned and put it down. “See why I can’t tell you about it?”

“Poor Ally.” Meghan sighed. “I know how she feels, falling for someone who’s larger than life. Sounds like she’s in the same boat as I am.”

“Way worse.” Geena shook her head. “At least you have a plan.”

“I should call her—” Meghan’s phone rang, interrupting her. This time it was an unknown number.

Geena nodded to it. “It’s a bar owner offering you a job. You’d better answer it, so you can call Jackson back and tell him you’re on your way over.”

She shook her head doubtfully, but answered the call. “Meghan Paige speaking.”

“Hi.” It was a woman’s voice. “I need live music for an event I’m planning, and I got your number from your website. The band we’d booked cancelled at the last minute. Are you available on Wednesday night?”

Meghan pressed the phone harder against her ear and widened her eyes at Geena. Could her luck be changing at last? Grabbing her handbag, she pulled out her notebook. “I can do it. Wait a minute, let me grab a pen to take down the details.”

When she had it all written down and agreed, she hung up and grinned. “I got a job. Just one night, so I haven’t got my foot on the mountain yet. But still, it’s a whole lot better than nothing.”

“This calls for more drinks.” Geena slid out of her chair. “I’ll get them. Unless you’re planning to rush to Jackson’s now?”

Meghan shook her head. “Not after one job. I still have a long way to go.”

“Don’t wait too long,” warned Geena. “Life is short and full of surprises. Carpe diem, and all that.”

“Seize the fish,” said Meghan with a smile.

Geena shot her a puzzled frown for a moment, then laughed. “You seize the hell out of that fish, Meg. Same wine again? I’m sure the third glass will be better. I mean it’s got to be, right?”

“A glass of water for me, please. I need to draw up a set list and start practicing.”

Geena headed for the bar and Meghan sucked in a deep breath. “Carpe diem,” she repeated softly.

Maybe she could have everything she wanted. If there was even the smallest chance, she’d grab hold of it with both hands. And the first step would be rocking the event she’d just been booked for.