Chapter 15

 

Ry kept his eyes glued on Claire. The joy of a few moments ago had been wiped from her expression.

Like him, Meg and Cassidy had instantly picked up on Claire’s distress and were hovering over her, their eyes darting back and forth. A moment later, evidently having picked up the gist of the problem, Cassidy stamped her foot and let fly a couple of sailor-worthy curses.

When Claire got off the phone, her two friends huddled around her. The emotional bond Ry saw between the three women gave him a weird, unfamiliar feeling, like he wanted to be part of their circle of comfort.

Don’t be stupid, bro.

“That is the worst freaking luck of all time,” Cassidy moaned. “I mean, obviously it’s totally terrible for Cole and his band, and we really shouldn’t be thinking about ourselves at a time like this. But people are going to be so disappointed that he can’t make it.”

Shit. What the hell had happened to Cole?

Claire and the gang had been so over the moon after Ry talked Cole into coming to the festival, but now something had clearly gone wrong. Badly wrong, from the sound of it.

Meg shrugged. “We gotta be Zen about it, guys. It is what it is.”

Ry closed in on the women. “What’s going on? Cole’s not coming?”

Claire nodded. “He can’t. His bus was in a pretty bad accident on the Interstate, just north of Portland.”

“Crap. Is everyone all right?”

“Cole said he’s just a wee bit banged up, but three of the guys in his band had to be taken to hospital by ambulance. He was on the way to see them when he called.”

Cole and his band were tight, and Ry had gotten friendly with some of the guys too. “Did he give you any idea how bad the injuries are?”

“He said there were some broken bones, but he was in a rush so I didn’t push him for details. Under the circumstances, I’m impressed that he’d call me himself instead of having his assistant do it.”

“He’s a really good dude,” Ry said. “I’ll give him a call later, after he’s had a chance to get updates on his guys.”

“Again, not to be insensitive, but what the heck are we going to do about tonight’s concert?” Cassidy asked. “It’s not going to be much of a show without our star act.”

“We’ll manage somehow.” Claire had switched into coordinator mode, and he was glad to see she’d gotten some of her color back. She’d blanched during the call.

“Maybe we could stretch out the other three performances,” she added. “Ordinarily, in a pinch, I’d ask you to step into the headline spot, Cass, but…”

“But she’s croaking like Kermit the Frog,” Meg finished.

Cassidy had cancelled out of the concert yesterday on account of a stubborn cough.

“Even aside from my throat problem, I’m no headliner,” Cassidy said. “Just imagine the announcement you’d have to make, Claire. Folks, Cole Ford can’t be here, but instead we’ve got good old Cassidy LaRue. People would lob rotten tomatoes at me. Probably at you too.”

“Don’t be crazy, people adore you. But I think we’re just going to have to ask each of the other performers to add fifteen minutes to their sets. Either that or we’ll have to end the evening awfully early.”

“The mayor would run you out of town if you cut the concert that short,” Meg said. “She’s always banging on about how it’s the highlight of the whole festival.”

“You’re right. Unfortunately, I don’t have any better ideas.”

“I have one,” Ry said.

The women startled, as if they’d forgotten him. “Okay, superstar, let’s hear it,” Meg said.

The solution was so obvious that he didn’t get why the others hadn’t already figured it out.

“Claire should do a long set in the headliner’s spot,” he said. “She’s a fantastic singer, and we all know she packs them in every week at the Red Dory.”

Meg started to say something but then clamped her mouth shut.

Claire looked appalled. “Uh, that’s really nice of you to say, but seriously—”

“Seriously, the praise is totally deserved,” he interjected.

She shook her head. “People around here get to see me all the time. Having me pretend to be the evening’s star act would be ludicrous.”

“I disagree. I figure people would think you’re a total trouper for stepping into the breach. So what if some of them have seen you a few times? That doesn’t mean they wouldn’t enjoy hearing you tonight. And don’t forget how many out-of-towners will be here. Lots of people will never have heard you before. It’ll be great exposure for you.”

“Superstar has a point,” Meg said.

“See?” Ry said. “Besides, who would want to hear a bunch of dragged out sets from the bottom end of the bill?”

“Yeah, like no one ever,” Cassidy chimed in.

Claire frowned, rubbing a temple and clearly thinking hard. When she finally gave Meg a pointed look, Meg’s response was to glance at him, then look back at Claire while waggling her hand as if to say, maybe.

Whatever their girl telepathy had just come up with, he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.

“Guys,” Claire said, “would you mind giving Ry and me a chance to talk for a minute?”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to like it.

“No problem.” Meg and Cassidy each gave him a significant glance that apparently he was supposed to somehow understand. Then they moved off toward the crowd that had surrounded a juggler a little farther down from the art ring.

“What’s up, Claire?”

Her sweet, slightly anxious smile sent him to high alert.

“Well, your idea got me thinking,” she said. “I’m warming to it, but it needs some serious tweaking.”

* * *

Cole Ford was the biggest name they’d ever booked for the Lobster Festival. His scheduled appearance had doubled the normal number of festivalgoers for the music event. So Claire had to figure this problem out fast or face some pissed-off ticket holders.

At least there hadn’t been any life-threatening injuries as a result of the bus crash. As long as everyone was going to be okay, she didn’t really care if people got angry with her. The music program was her responsibility, and she was prepared to take whatever heat came her way.

Still, she didn’t want the festival’s reputation to take too big a hit.

Ry’s idea wasn’t the worst she’d ever heard. Claire was pretty sure she could pull it off—with his help.

“Do I want to know what you mean by tweaking?” he asked suspiciously.

“Can’t you guess?”

Despite his Oakleys, she could tell he was glaring at her.

“Yeah, but I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”

“But you were awesome at the wedding. People went crazy over your playing.”

“That was different and you know it.” His voice had sunk to a near growl.

“Okay, it was shorter and in front of fewer people. But you were so well received, and I’m sure you’d find it wouldn’t be much different tonight. Plus, this time you’d be up there with me, not on your own. You could even hide behind me if you wanted to.”

She was working hard to sound encouraging and enthusiastic, not desperate.

He stubbornly shook his head. “You’re the singer. You’re the one people want to hear.”

Now she officially began to feel desperate. “Don’t you see? If I go out there alone, it’ll be just another meh event. On the other hand, if local hero Ry Griffin were to perform, showcasing his awesome talent on guitar, then it might even end up being an evening to remember.”

He pushed his sunglasses up and shot her a get real look.

She grimaced in sympathy. “Ry, you totally count as a celebrity in Brides Bay. It’s a small town, remember? We don’t need to have a Taylor Swift or a Jason Aldean on stage to impress people.”

“Clearly not, if all it would take is a retired hockey player who fools around on guitar,” he said drily.

“No, it would take a retired hockey player who plays the hell out of his guitar.”

“Too bad there’s nobody like that around here.”

“Fortunately, there is. He’s standing right in front of little old me right now.”

He stared over the top of her head into the distance, keeping silent for several fraught moments. Claire had to remind herself to breathe.

Finally, he met her gaze. “Claire, I’m sorry. I don’t like to disappoint you. I’ve tried to be there for you every time you’ve needed me.”

She deflated. “I know, and I really appreciate it.”

“You’ll do just fine without me. You’re a fantastic singer.”

Instinctively, she knew her performance wouldn’t be enough. She had a mental image of pissed off festivalgoers demanding their money back—something that would be bad news both for the festival and the local charities that benefited from donations raised by the events.

She gave it one more shot. “All I can say is that it would mean a lot to the festival and to the town. And to me—more than you can know.”

Way to ladle on the guilt, Claire.

Hating herself for being so pushy, she stared up into his rigid features. She would let it go now, no matter what answer he gave her. He’d already done so much, and she couldn’t bring herself to pressure him any more than she already had.

She was about to apologize when he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I have to get back to the tournament. I’ll call you or come see you later, okay?”

“No worries.” She was trying hard to take it with good grace.

“Congratulations again on winning the contest. Remember, no matter what happens tonight, you’ve already had a hell of a day.”

“Thanks.” She gave him two thumbs up as he backed away. “Let’s hope it’s onward and upward from here.”

As soon as he strode off, Claire went in search of Meg. Her friend, who was watching a busker juggle flaming wands, saw her coming and hurried to meet her.

“From the look on your face, it didn’t go well,” Meg said. “What happened?”

“I think I just did something epically stupid.”

“You asked him to play tonight and he said no.”

Claire gave a helpless shrug.

“Well, I guess that was predictable,” her pal said.

“I practically begged the guy. He refused emphatically, but then he said he had to get back to the tournament and would talk to me later. I’m not quite sure what to make of that.”

“I’m sure,” Meg said indignantly. “He’s a typical man, leaving you hanging on a hook. And it sucks, especially after you were brave enough to put it all out there.” She put her arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Sorry, sweetie.”

“He’s been so good about helping with the festival that I thought he might be okay with this too.”

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Meg raised a skeptical eyebrow. “As I recall, you didn’t give him a lot of choice about volunteering.”

“My point is that he’s made some real effort to get involved in the community. I figured that if he went on with me tonight and enjoyed it…”

“That’s a pretty big if, sister.”

“Sure, but you saw how good he was at Derek and Jane’s wedding. Besides, he’s our local celebrity. Seeing him play would be something special for the crowd. And maybe it would even help him realize how much people here want him to be part of our lives.”

Meg crossed her arms and gave her the once-over. “My, how times have changed. When he first got here, you were hoping he’d sell the house soon so you might have another chance at buying it. Now you’re practically standing on your head to get him to stick around.”

Claire bristled. “As if I could ever raise the money to buy the house. There’s no point indulging myself with that fantasy any longer. My rose-colored glasses are now permanently off.”

“Except when it comes to a certain hockey player.”

“Dammit, Meg—”

Her friend gave her a quick hug. “Let’s just forget about that totally clueless man for now. We’ve got to get you ready for tonight. It’s show time, baby.”

Forget Ry Griffin? Fat chance.

But she’d have to try. What choice did she have?

* * *

From the front of the stage, Claire watched Cassidy check out the sound setup with the guys who’d hauled the equipment up from Portland. Thank God for Cassidy, who was always there to lend a hand with whatever was needed.

As soon as Claire and Meg had the chance to work out the best timing, they would be asking her to join them at Brides Bay Concierges as a partner. There was sometimes too much work for two people to handle already, and with all the new construction on Promise Island, the likelihood of snagging more high-end clients was growing every day. Not that Cassidy would automatically say yes to their proposal. She already had a part-time job at the Blue Horizon Inn and made some money on the side as a talented weaver.

She gazed out over the crowd that almost filled the outdoor amphitheater overlooking the bay. When she told the festival committee she’d be replacing Cole as the headline act, they’d greeted the news with obvious dismay before managing to muster some tepid enthusiasm so as not to hurt her feelings. Of course she hadn’t said a word about the remote possibility that Ry might accompany her on guitar.

She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to do something he clearly hated. And she was ashamed to have put him in the position of having to refuse. Worse yet, she’d made it personal by saying it would mean a lot to her. It might have even sounded as if she thought he somehow owed her, when the exact opposite was true.

She’d be lucky if he didn’t can her sorry ass as his concierge the next time he saw her.

Suddenly, Cassidy jerked upright from the soundboard and pointed a finger over her head. Taking the cue, Claire glanced over her shoulder and saw Ry coming up behind her at a quick pace.

She almost fell off the edge of the stage.

“Careful,” he said, making a grab for her.

“Oh, thanks,” she said weakly. “You startled me.”

“Sorry. Everything going okay here?” He took off his baseball cap and swiped a forearm across his damp brow. He’d been standing out in the sun most of the day at the ball diamond. Sweaty or not, he was amazing—big, brawny, and uber-masculine. He always looked like he could handle any problem that came his way.

“So far, so good. Cassidy will make sure everything’s working right before anybody goes on stage.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to hearing you sing.”

Dammit. He was going to leave her on her own.

“We’ll see. I’m just hoping people don’t throw things at me when I start plucking away lamely on my guitar.” She smiled to let him know she was joking. Sort of.

“Well, you could even leave your guitar at home if you wanted to.” He gave her a sardonic smile. “You won’t really need it.”

She grabbed his arm. “Oh, my God, seriously? You’re saying you’ll back me up?”

Ry nodded.

“That’s awesome, and I’m so grateful, but I need you to be really, really sure. I felt like a total asshat for pressuring you so hard. It wasn’t very nice of me to ask you to get up on stage when you don’t want to.”

“Relax, I’m used to pressure. I’ve played hockey in front of some of the toughest crowds imaginable. These folks can’t be any worse. At least I sure hope not.”

She managed a laugh. “I hope not too. ”

“Your confidence in that regard is inspiring. Not,” he said with a grin.

“Well, in any case, I owe you,” she said. “Big time.”

His gaze slowly took on a dark, smoldering expression—the thrilling, slightly scary one she hadn’t seen since that eventful guitar lesson at her apartment. All she could do was stare back at him as she tried to get her lungs working again.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said in a husky rumble. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to think of a way to even things up.”