Michelle Mankin: Irresistible Refrain

“Yes.” I gulped, my stomach doing a little nauseating side shimmy.

“Where are you staying?’

“A hostel on Pender Street.”

Mary frowned. “That’s not a very good part of town.” That was a total understatement. The place made the Avenue look like Disneyworld. She opened up her desk drawer, pulled out a couple of business cards, and handed them to me. “One of those is for a driver I keep on call. The other is for the manager at Sutton Place. I don’t want you wasting what little free time you’re going to have on public transportation, and I want you sleeping in a safe place.”

“Ok,” I managed, trying to take it all in.

“You’ll like the Sutton. It’s convenient and in a nice neighborhood only a couple of blocks from your school.” My deer in the headlights look must’ve registered with her. Her face softened.

Why hadn’t I ever noticed how beautiful she was before?

“I’m not going to sugar coat it. Working out this schedule is going to be a challenge, but one I think you can handle.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen a lot in this business, but I’ve never seen anyone quite like you. Showing up at my office three weeks in a row (so she had known) shows you have courage and mental toughness. Bringing the money back and owning up to your mistakes demonstrates integrity on your part.” She stood and held out her hand. I grasped it. “You have talent, too. I’m really looking forward to seeing what you do next.”

Holding the guitar by the neck, I slammed it into the wall, grunting with satisfaction when it splintered apart in my hands. Letting go where it joined the body, I watched it drop to the carpet, ruined like my life without her.

I’ve done all the waiting I’m gonna do .

What an arrogant ass I’d been.

I swiped my beer off the table and sagged into the chair. I drained it, settled back, and closed my eyes. Alone with my thoughts, and they were all of her.

What was she doing? And who was she with?

I felt completely empty without her, a brittle burned out husk. It was all wrong. Nothing made sense anymore.

“Bry? Are you ok? I heard a noise.”

“Yeah, Mom.” I turned to see her stick her head into the doorway to the garage which I had converted into a studio. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Sure.” I ran a hand through my hair. “You don’t have to ask. This is your house. I bought it for you. I just put the studio in so I had somewhere to practice whenever I’m around.”

“I know.” She pulled out a chair and sat beside me. Concerned eyes flicked to the broken guitar before they scanned my face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t.”

“Bryan Hunter Jackson. I’m your mother. That’s not an option.” Her hands went to her hips. “I want to know when you’re planning to stop moping around and take charge of your life again.”

I didn’t respond because I knew she was right.

She scooted her chair closer, smoothing out the apron she wore over her scrubs. She must’ve just gotten home from work. Her hand dropped down on top of mine. “What are you going to do about Warren?”

“What can I do, Mom?”

“You’ve been friends a long time.”

“I know.” For all his faults, I couldn’t just turn off how I felt. I was worried about him. It was like missing a limb not to have him around anymore. “I tried to smooth things over before he quit the band. When War shuts you out though, you’re out. He’s very black and white about things. You’re either with him or you’re against him.”

“Hmm.” She folded her hands under her chin and looked thoughtful. I had a feeling where she was going before she spoke, and I wasn’t wrong. “Do you remember what I told you when you first got back from Orlando?”

“I remember,” I whispered, thinking she was going to reiterate all the reasons that ending things with Lace made sense. In my mind those reasons still had some merit, but in my heart it felt all fucked up.

“I’m afraid that maybe I gave you some bad advice.”

Surprise widened my eyes as I looked at her.

A frown creased her brow. “I think I’ve let my history with your father color my judgment. So many times he made promises. So many times he broke them. But I kept taking him back, hoping each time that things would be different.”

“I know.”

“I saw that same pattern developing between you and Lace. I’m afraid you love her too much and that she’ll hurt you like your dad hurt me.” Her voice caught.

“He hurt all of us,” I admitted softly.

She nodded.

“Lace isn’t like him.”

“I don’t know that for sure. But I realize now that’s not for me to decide. That’s up to you.”

I was silent for a moment, letting that sink in.

“I told you once that sometimes love means letting go. Maybe that was just my old bitterness welling up. I was trying to protect you, Bryan, when I should have been encouraging you to make your own decisions and live your own life. Take risks even.”

My mom was right. Damn right. Lace was worth the risk. My pride had blinded me from seeing that. I should have admired her strength and how brave it was of her to want to prove herself before we moved forward together.

Instead all I saw was that she was rejecting the glass slipper without even trying it on. Rejecting me. Putting up one more barrier between us. Anger made me throw the past back in her face. Selfishness kept me from agreeing to what was best for her. And sheer stupidity caused me to walk away from the only woman who had ever really mattered to me.

I put my arm around my mom’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “The two of you are a lot alike. Both so beautiful. Both so resilient.”

She smiled softly and laid her palm against my cheek. I covered her hand with my own. “I love you, son.” Tears sparkled in her eyes as she looked at me. “You’re a good man. You’ll figure it out. And whatever you decide, I’m behind you.”

I heard the haunting acoustic melody as soon as I passed Black Cat’s reception desk on my way in to work. I walked a little faster, trying to balance the backpack on my shoulder and my coffee without spilling it. The somber sound compelled me forward directly toward its source.

In studio six, I found him. His auburn head lifted. Gorgeous emerald eyes that I felt certain I’d seen before stared into mine. Comprehension dawned. No doubt about it. This was Avery’s twin. The physical similarities were striking.

My heart rate kicked into a higher gear as he gazed curiously back at me. He was really good looking if you were into beautifully handsome men, like Michelangelo’s David. Dark and dangerous were more my speed, but I shouldn’t go there. I clamped my mind shut to keep his memory out.

“Don’t stop on my account.” I stepped into the small ten by twelve room. My eyes slid to his guitar with the hummingbird pick guard. “That’s a nice guitar. Really sweet tone. And you play it very well.”

“Thanks.” He slid off his stool with a grin, full lips around a flash of white teeth. “Justin Jones.” He held out his hand.

Duh , I thought, dropping my backpack and moving my coffee to my left hand so I could take it. “Lace Lowell.” I returned his infectious grin, his callouses rough against my skin as our hands touched. If I hadn’t already heard him play, that alone would have clued me into the fact that Avery’s brother wasn’t a casual musician. “We’ve both got the alliteration thing going on with our names, haven’t we?” I laughed.