Ash met Millie Friday morning in the production company parking lot off of 18th Avenue. She wore a pressed, if ill-fitting, business suit, and he’d never seen her look so put together. Even her hair was neatly styled.

“Good morning,” she said, her smile wide. “I’m so happy you could make this meeting. I truly wouldn’t have been able to do this on my own.”

She’d have been fine, he was sure. “No problem.”

They proceeded into the building and were greeted by a male receptionist who offered them an assortment of drinks. Ash accepted a bottle of water while Millie passed.

“I’m way too nervous to drink anything,” she whispered as the man returned to his post. “I’ve never been around television people before.”

Ash had participated in a couple of locally televised programs. The first had been for charity, and the other had featured up-and-coming songwriters in town. Neither had put him in the spotlight, which was why he’d participated at all, but watching the behind-the-scenes action had been interesting.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured her. “All we have to do is listen to what they have to say.”

“Yes,” she agreed, nodding vigorously. “I can do that. But what if they want the children to wear fancy outfits? Their parents can barely afford food. I can’t ask them to spend money like that.”

That was a problem he hadn’t considered. “If they want fancy, they’ll have to pay for it. If that isn’t an option, then they’ll have to be happy with whatever the kids can put together.”

“We did black pants and white shirts for the recital last spring. Maybe that will work.” Millie squirmed on the edge of her seat. “I’m sure the center could pitch in for some sort of Christmas-y accessories. Red ties for the boys and pretty bows for the girls.”

“That’s a good idea.” Ash could already hear the boys moaning about having to wear ties, but there was no need to burst Millie’s bubble right now.

“Ms. Hopewell, Mr. Shepherd, they’re ready for you now.”

The receptionist led them into the bowels of the office, which was quieter than Ash would expect. Then again, this was the executive floor. Most activity likely took place on the lower levels. They were seated in a conference room twice the size of the one at Shooting Stars and waited several minutes before the producers joined them. The moment the suits walked into the room, Millie stopped squirming.

“Thank you again for taking the time to meet with us, Ms. Hopewell. I’m Jacob Holmes and this is Melissa Darby, who spoke to you on the phone last week.”

“I remember, yes. It’s nice to meet you both. And this is Ash Shepherd, our music director at Sunshine Academy.”

“So you’re the source of the children’s talent,” said Ms. Darby.

Ash shook his head. “The talent is all theirs. I just help them learn how to use it.” Curious, he asked, “How did you hear about the academy?”

“Samantha Walters raved about your group. She saw them perform last spring through her connection with the Kids & The Arts charity.” The friendly brunette turned to Millie. “I believe they’re a big contributor to your facility.”

“Yes, they are. We’re excited about this opportunity, but we need to make sure this is a proper venue for our students.” Millie crossed her arms, looking every bit the shrewd negotiator. “What exactly are you wanting the children to do?”

Darby and Holmes exchanged a glance that Ash read loud and clear. They hadn’t expected the mousy director to transform into a lion. Smiling, he sat back, happy to be the silent observer.

“The program will last two hours, and we’d like to feature the choir during the first hour, singing at least two traditional Christmas songs, though we can’t be sure if both performances will make the final television cut.”

“And the musicians?” Millie asked, her expression revealing nothing.

“They would appear in the second hour, and we were hoping they might play something more contemporary. Is that possible?”

Millie turned to Ash. “What do you think?”

He didn’t see why not. “If you can get the performance rights for a modern Christmas tune, the kids will play it. But we’ll need to know which songs as soon as possible so they have plenty of time to learn and practice. Will they need to play two as well?”

“Just one for the musicians,” Holmes said. “We’re packing more acts into the second hour so that limits the time allotted to each.”

Learning a three- to four-minute song in a month’s time was more than doable. “Who will they be performing behind?” he asked.

The producers exchanged another glance. “They’ll have the spotlight all to themselves.”

Confused, Ash said, “Then who is doing the singing?”

“Who did the singing in the spring?” Ms. Darby asked.

His gut dropped.

“That was Ash,” Millie replied. “He’s a wonderful singer.”

“I’m a songwriter and musician, not a singer,” he corrected. “We have plenty of talented kids in the choir who can handle this performance.”

“Singing with a choir is quite different from taking lead on national television,” Mr. Holmes pointed out. “If the kids are used to playing behind you, we should probably stick with that.”

Ash was about to argue until catching the hint of panic in Millie’s pleading gaze. This was important to her and would be equally important to the kids. His refusal to sing wasn’t likely to be a deal breaker, but if it was and they lost this opportunity, he’d never forgive himself.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But we’ll expect final approval on song choice.”

“That was always the plan since you know best what the children are capable of.” Ms. Darby slid a sheet of paper their way. “We’ve compiled a list of options for both groups and hoped we could lock in the choices today. Since, as you mentioned, we’ll need time to make sure we have all the rights we need.”

Millie accepted the list and immediately handed it over to Ash. Within minutes, three songs were chosen—two for the choir and one for the guitar troop—and the Sunshine Academy performers were locked in as official participants in the November taping of a Nashville Country Christmas.

Ash still wasn’t happy with the role he’d agreed to play, but there was no way around it. In the end, Millie was happy, and the kids were going to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience. That was really all that mattered.

Burger Republic was already packed with the Friday lunch crowd, but that was typical of this part of town. The Gulch, a development just off the downtown business district that had once been a railroad yard, was currently the trendiest neighborhood in town. In fact, Jesse would trade all of her fancy outfits to live in one of the high-end condos with their modern décor and endless amenities.

Not only were they insanely pricey, but they were harder to get into than Harvard Law School. The waiting lists had waiting lists. You had to know someone who knew someone or dream on. Since Jesse lacked the right connections, dream on it would be.

“Look at it this way,” Dana said as the hostess led them to their table, “That’s less tourists milling about outside your metaphorical front door.”

A stretch for a silver lining, but Jesse would take it. She’d scheduled three apartment viewings for the next day, but one had only been available to see this morning, which had worked out well with Ash off at his meeting with Millie. Unfortunately, the studio apartment had been less than attractive and during their short tour, Jesse had heard voices through the walls on both sides. That meant option number one got a hard pass.

“Here you go,” the brunette said with a smile, indicating a booth against the back wall. “Deonne is your server, and he’ll be right with you.”

“Thanks,” Jesse said, sliding into the seat and not bothering to open the menu. The sliders were her regular order, and she saw no reason to change things up.

“I always say I’m going to get one of these spiked milkshakes, but I never do.” Dana scanned the list of boozy concoctions. “Ooh, there’s a new one called Kentucky Thunder.”

That sounded dangerous. “What’s in it?”

“Stout, bourbon, and chocolate ice cream.” She looked up with a wiggle of her brow. “We should do it.”

Tempting but Jesse really wanted to make her solo debut at least twenty pounds lighter than she currently was. “I better not. I’ve eaten enough conciliatory ice cream this week to gain back the five pounds I managed to get off last month.” Five pounds in a month was nothing to brag about, but Jesse had never dropped weight easily. The passing on of her mother’s non-moving metabolism had been a cruel twist of fate.

“You look great,” Dana assured her as an attractive black man approached the table.

“Hello, ladies. How are we doing today?”

“Good,” they said in unison.

“All right. My name is Deonne, and I’ll be your server today. Have y’all been here before?”

“Many times,” Jesse replied.

“Cool. I’ll get your drink order in and give you a little time to peruse our menu. What are we having?”

Dana ordered first. “I’ll take a Diet Coke.”

“Same for me,” Jesse said. As Deonne left the table, she said, “What happened to the Kentucky Thunder?”

“You reminded me that the Thunder would go directly to my thighs.”

The bass player was taller than Jesse—though who wasn’t?—but of a similar size.

“When we celebrate our first number one, we’ll come back for the Thunder and say screw the extra calories.”

“That’s a deal.”

Crossing her arms on the table, Jesse glanced up to catch a headline scroll across the bottom of the screen on a mounted television. “Another hurricane. This season needs to freaking end.”

“Oh, shit,” Dana muttered, pulling Jesse’s attention from the impending storm.

“What?”

Chin low, she whispered, “Don’t look now, but Taylor is headed this way.”

Jesse had no time to prepare before her former duet partner stepped up to the table.

“Hi,” Taylor said as if they were still the best of friends.

“Hi,” Jesse echoed, stomach roiling. She wanted to throw a punch, burst into tears, and puke on Taylor’s fancy boots all at the same time.

“How’s it going, Taylor?” Dana asked, thankfully taking the traitor’s attention away from Jesse.

“It’s good,” the blonde replied. “Different, but good. How about you guys?”

“We’re great,” her bass player answered. “We’re going into the studio on Monday. Shooting Stars has lined up a great team for the album. Only the best for their newest star.”

Dana won herself a job for life with that response.

“Oh.” Taylor’s voice cracked. “That’s good to hear. With Jesse’s talent, I’m sure the album will be great.”

“Really?” Jesse said. “If I’m so talented, why did you ditch me like I was some loser sidekick you couldn’t wait to get rid of?”

Taylor looked stunned as a hush fell over the tables around them. With more warning, Jesse might have curtailed the outburst, but the rage that had been building for months, combined with the simmering anger at Ryan’s infidelity, merged into a perfect storm, unleashing Hurricane Jesse.

“Maybe we should discuss this outside,” Dana suggested, but Taylor found her voice.

“I didn’t ditch you, Jesse. This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

“We had opportunities,” she reminded her. “Like the tour we should be on right now. You remember that?”

“Everyone can hear you,” Dana muttered.

Taylor’s eyes lowered. “I didn’t come over here to cause a scene. I just wanted to say that I miss you. And I’m sorry about you and Ryan.”

Jesse was on her feet in an instant. “What do you know about me and Ryan?”

“Just that you broke up,” she said, taking a step back.

Stupid gossips. “That’s my business, not yours. And you don’t get to say that you miss me.” Jesse poked her in the shoulder. “Not after what you did.”

“That’s enough.” Dana put herself between the two women. “Taylor, go back to your table.”

“What’s going on over here?” growled Dennis Kohlman as he approached the table.

“Nothing,” Taylor replied. “I was just leaving.”

“Because that’s what you do best,” Jesse snarled.

Keeping Jesse behind her, Dana nodded toward the exit. “Go on.”

“Come on, baby,” Dennis mumbled, taking his client by the elbow. “I told you she wasn’t worth your time.”

Jesse lunged as they walked away, but Dana pressed her back into the booth and spun to face her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered.

“She—”

“She nothing. You know half this place is filled with industry people. How could you let her get to you like that?”

So much for loyalty. “Are you serious right now? She acted like nothing happened.”

“And now everyone in this restaurant knows exactly what happened. Is that what you wanted?”

The message hit Jesse like a runaway bus. What had been only gossip before had just been confirmed. By Jesse. She was the one left behind. And now she was the crazy one attacking Taylor in a restaurant.

“I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, dropping her forehead onto the table.

“Let’s just get out of here.” Dana grabbed her jacket off the seat. “Come on.”

Jesse followed blindly, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons as they marched toward the exit, but the hum of whispers couldn’t be ignored. If Jesse hadn’t been the most pathetic artist in town already, she definitely was now.

And this time, she had only herself to blame.

“Mr. Shepherd, could I speak to you a moment?”

Ms. Darby’s request took Ash by surprise. Anything she wanted to discuss about the academy should include Millie.

“Do you have more questions about the kids’ performances?”

She shook her head, and dark waves twirled around her face. “No, I wanted to ask about something else.”

Millie cut him a sly smile. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” With that, she left the pair alone as Mr. Holmes had already departed.

“Okay, Ms. Darby. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve heard you’re working with Jesse Gold.”

Not sure where this was going, he replied, “Yes. I’m producing her debut album.”

The television producer stepped to the door, looked both ways down the hall, and then closed them in. “Do you think she might be interested in being part of the Christmas show?”

Would she? Making her solo television debut before Taylor would not only help Jesse’s career, but quite possibly make her year.

“I don’t see why not. Have you contacted her manager, Silas Fillmore?”

She made a sour face. “Jacob scratched her off the invite list. In fact, he’s scratched off nearly every female artist I suggested.” Ash sensed a revolt in the air. “Most of them weren’t likely to accept anyway, but I met Jesse when the Honkytonk Daisies first came out, and I really liked her. With the rumors floating around, I don’t think she’s getting a fair shake.”

If Ms. Darby was looking for allies for her mutiny, she’d just found one.

“I can almost guarantee that Jesse would accept if she was asked, but will your Mr. Holmes let that happen?” The last thing he would tolerate was Jesse receiving an invitation only to have it revoked in short order.

Green eyes twinkled as a dark brow arched. “I’ll handle Mr. Holmes, if you’ll put in a good word with Jesse.”

Extending a hand, Ash said, “Consider it done.”

Instead of the quick shake he’d expected, Ms. Darby held on. “Now for a more personal question. Would you like to have dinner sometime?”

So this is what Millie’s smile had been about. Somehow Ash had missed the signs and was caught off guard. Melissa Darby was pretty, with a nice smile and emerald eyes that sparkled as she held his gaze. The tailored suit accentuated shapely curves, and more importantly, she’d displayed intelligence, ambition, and excellent instincts where Jesse was concerned. He’d be an idiot to turn her down.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Ash heard himself say, watching the green eyes dim. “But I appreciate the offer.”

Ms. Darby didn’t ask for a reason, which he appreciated since Ash didn’t have one.

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Whipping a business card from her pocket, she pressed it into his hand. “In case you change your mind.”

Ash nodded as he slipped the card into his back pocket. “You’ll be the first to know if I do,” he muttered lamely.

She flashed an attractive smile as she opened the door. “Until next time, then.”

A bit befuddled, he replied, “Until next time.”

He found Millie waiting in the reception area, and she pressed the button for the elevator as he approached. The doors slid open, and they stepped on together. As they closed, she said, “So?”

“So what?” he asked, still trying to figure out why he’d turned down the invite.

“What did Ms. Darby want?”

“To know if Jesse Gold would be interesting in participating in the show.” Ash saw no reason to share the other part.

Millie looked confused. “Jesse Gold?”

“You met her last Saturday at the center. I brought her in to play with the kids.”

“Oh, yes. That pretty little redhead you’re working with.” The director tilted her head. “Is that all she wanted?”

Ash ignored the obvious suggestion in her tone. Millie knew what Ms. Darby had really wanted, but he had no plans to confirm her suspicions.

“Yep. That was it.”

“I could have sworn…” she whispered more to herself than to him.

Which provided Ash the perfect opportunity to embrace his right to remain silent until they reached the parking lot and went their separate ways. The duration of the drive home was spent pondering his unexpected response. Why not go to dinner with a beautiful, successful woman? No answer came until he pulled into his drive to find Jesse waiting on his front steps.

“Right,” he mumbled to himself. “That’s why.”