Take a Bow, page 19
Mimi counted heads again. “Wait, you didn’t come with Crosby, did you?”
“We’re here together. As friends,” Trevor said.
“Since when are you friends with Spencer Crosby?” Mimi asked.
“Since that night at your house. He’s a sweet guy.”
“Sweet?” Mimi had always thought Crosby was the best actor of the bunch, because he seemed nothing like the passionately clueless character he played on Sawyer’s Cove. But she’d been wrong before.
“Well, awesome,” she said brightly.
“And what about you? How are things going with Mr. Actor Guy?” Trevor said slyly.
“You two are clearly speaking again,” Pauline noted.
Trevor’s jaw dropped. “What? You were fighting? What about?”
“We weren’t fighting. Exactly. And none of your business.” She’d filled Pauline in on the bare bones of their disagreement. “We’re okay. I don’t want you guys to worry about me. This night is about celebrating all our hard work over the past year.”
“And raising a lot of money,” Pauline reminded her.
“True.” In all the drama, Mimi had almost forgotten she was supposed to make some remarks to the crowd. Jay had volunteered a while back to emcee the event, and he was climbing onto the stage right on schedule to announce the opening of the dinner buffet.
As people made their way to the buffet lines, the noise level rose. Nash came back with a glass of bubbly for Mimi, which she drank without tasting. Colin handed Pauline a beer, and Crosby handed Trevor something dark in a lowball glass. Mimi and Pauline had earlier planned to split up so they could keep their eyes on everyone and make sure there were library employees scattered around if people had questions, so they broke up their small party and went their separate ways. Trevor and Crosby floated over to a group of Sawyer’s Cove-affiliated people, including the showrunner herself.
“Hey.”
Mimi dragged her eyes to Nash.
“Everything’s going great. You can relax.”
“I’ll relax when it’s over,” Mimi responded.
But his words helped. She managed to eat some of the really yummy dips, and she got through her thank you speech without bungling it. She reminded everyone to get their bids in by the end of the musical performance, as they needed time to close the auction before the end of the event.
“And I want to announce a change to our program,” Mimi said. “Alabaster Poppy, unfortunately, couldn’t make it tonight, but a good friend of mine, and a good friend to not only the library, but to Misty Harbor itself, has graciously agreed to perform some songs from his album. Nash Speedwell will be performing for us in a few minutes.”
A huge swell of applause and some cheering from the Sawyer’s Cove tables overpowered her as she turned off the mic and sat down. Nash was smiling calmly, as if he did this every day, but when she brushed her hand over his, he grabbed on tightly.
“It’s going to be great,” she said under her breath. “We’re an easy crowd. And your songs are beautiful.”
“They are?” He sounded as if he genuinely didn’t believe her.
“Of course, Nash. You write some of the most beautiful poetry I’ve ever heard.”
“Poetry?”
“I’m a librarian. I’ve read a lot of words. I know what I’m talking about. You are a poet.”
He laughed, rich and full, and even if he thought she was making fun of him, he seemed slightly more relaxed than he did a moment before.
Then he sobered up. “What if I forget the words halfway through?”
“Then look at me, and I’ll mouth them to you.” She knew at that moment her pride was secondary to making him believe he could do this. “I know your entire album back to front and upside down.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“You did pick all my favorites,” he said, pulling out his phone and looking at the set list. “How did you know?”
“Those are my favorites, too.” She brought his hand up to her mouth, kissed the back of it briefly. “You’re going to be awesome.”
Jay had been sitting at a different table. He came over now, clapped Nash reassuringly on the shoulder. “Ready to go, Champ?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Nash said.
“Break a leg,” Mimi said. “Does that expression work for music?”
“I hope so.” He squeezed her hand hard, just once, then let it go. He climbed the stairs, and Jay and Jerry worked the sound system, helping Nash get set up. The buzz of conversation quieted as he tapped the microphone, and a hint of feedback screeched before subsiding.
Mimi held her breath as Nash started to sing.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Pick up my glass, buy a stranger a drink.
Gonna drown my sorrows; damn jukebox on the blink.
“Stranger,” The Nash Speedwell Experience
The only way he could get through the first shaky chords of “Stranger” was to keep his eyes half-closed so he could pretend he was sitting in his living room, totally alone. But once he started feeling the song and could tell his voice sounded all right over the speakers, he loosened up enough to lift his eyelids a tad. Mimi had suggested starting with an up-tempo song, one that immediately got people’s feet tapping.
He saw them respond almost right away—they might not know the song, but they could appreciate the beat and semi-humorous lyrics about a lonely Hollywood star drowning his sorrows in a glass of whiskey in a Sunset Strip bar.
His eyes were completely open by the time he finished the song, and he took in the room in its entirety, the round tables filled with faces tilted toward him, some of them friends, some of them strangers. All of them seemed to be having a decent time.
He relaxed a fraction more when he spotted Jay at the edge of the stage, swaying along to the music and standing by to make sure all the tech stuff stayed in place. Jay had his back.
He wrapped up the first song, and the sound of the applause and whistles was overwhelming. The blood had been roaring too loud in his ears earlier when Mimi had announced him, but now he could fully appreciate the audience’s reaction. He thought he heard someone yell, “Go, Nash!” When the clapping died down, he spoke into the mic.
“Thanks for having me here tonight.” More applause. He grinned. This was kind of fun. He let a little more drawl slip through his voice. He loved the old country performers, how they told stories through their songs, and how they portrayed a world-weary effortlessness. He relaxed his posture, wished he had his cowboy hat. Maybe next time.
Wait.
“You sure are a beautiful crowd,” he told the audience, trying to stay in the moment. “We’re here tonight to raise money for a place close to all our hearts.”
He found Mimi’s face in the crowd. She was smiling so hard, it looked like it might hurt. He realized with a rush he was making her proud, and it felt better than cutting an enormous check to Rainbow Canyon, or writing the perfect rhyming couplet, or nailing an emotional acting scene. It felt better than anything.
“The Misty Harbor Library is more than a place to check out books. It’s a place to belong. So make sure you do your part, so its mission can continue.”
He took a deep breath, waited for the audience to settle, and launched into his next song.
* * *
Nash was sweating through his shirt, had long since loosened his tie, much to the delight of certain audience members, who’d felt free to catcall him. He’d winked back, and the calls had gotten louder. He didn’t know if this was helping the library raise money, but at least everyone was having a good time. Shockingly, including him.
Mimi had suggested he close with “Puzzle Piece,” which was the first song on the album, and she’d chosen well. But he also wanted to play his new song, the one he’d written for the charity album. As the chords died away on “Puzzle Piece,” he spoke.
“One more, then I’ll let you all get to your dessert. I wrote this song for an upcoming charity album to benefit a great organization called Rainbow Canyon, but I think the message is universal. And I want to dedicate this one to Mimi Orlando. Y’all are incredibly lucky to have her guiding this place and working on your team. She made this song better; she makes this town better. She makes me better, to tell you the truth.”
He looked straight at her. Her cheeks were flaming pink, but she didn’t look away when he tipped an imaginary hat toward her. Someone hooted—it might have been Jay—and then Nash began to play. By the end of the song, folks were up on their feet, swaying and clapping along with the chorus. It was hard to get super intense with acoustic, but Nash played as hard as he could. He finished the song, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
He sort of didn’t know what to do after that, but Jay, perhaps sensing his discomfort, jumped onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “Nash Speedwell, everybody!”
Nash stood and Jay pulled him into a hug.
“You did it, man,” Jay said into his ear.
“Huh.” Nash wasn’t ready to declare his stage fright completely conquered, but he had to admit, he could see the appeal of singing to a bunch of adoring fans once in a while.
“Thanks, Nash. Now, grab dessert courtesy of Misty Harbor Bakeshop, and then you have exactly fifteen minutes to finish bidding on the silent auction items before we announce the winners.”
There was a mad scramble. Everyone knew how delicious Bakeshop desserts were, and Nash liked to think he’d riled up the crowd’s energy to encourage bidding up the auction items.
Now that the attention was off him, Nash sagged a little. He was hot and sweaty, and he needed a gallon of water. He hadn’t sung like that since he'd recorded the album, and his voice was out of shape. Still, the rasp he’d acquired by the end of the set sounded okay, complemented the music even.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jay said.
“Sure.” He was dazed and felt the adrenaline coursing through him like a drug. “That was awesome.”
Jay laughed and patted his shoulder. “It sure was.”
He looked around, trying to see Mimi amongst the crowds of people at the dessert bar or heading to the silent auction room, but she seemed nowhere to be found.
“Come on,” Jay said, leading him to the door behind the stage he’d gone through earlier that evening. There was a little changing room back there, and Jay had presciently suggested he bring an extra shirt to change into. He knew he should take a breather, make himself presentable, but he was so high from the performance, he just wanted to see Mimi and kiss the daylights out of her.
But he followed Jay obediently. There’d be time for kissing later.
“Hey, could you grab me a water?” Nash asked once he and Jay were backstage. He took off his jacket and hung it up.
“Here you go,” a familiar voice said.
He whipped his head around. Mimi was there, holding out a water bottle. He drank her in first, from her elegant eyebrows to her painted red smile. He took the bottle gratefully, without losing eye contact.
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’m gonna scoot,” Jay said quickly as Nash just stared at Mimi and Mimi stared back.
“Bye, Jay,” Mimi said distantly.
“Yeah. Bye,” Nash echoed. There was fire in Mimi’s hazel eyes, and he couldn’t look away.
“Oh, my God. Okay. See you later.”
Jay slammed the door on his way out, but Nash barely registered anything but the beautiful woman standing in front of him.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Mimi said finally. “It was amazing. You’re amazing.”
“I wasn’t sure I was capable of it, to be honest. But I’m glad I did.”
“Me, too,” Mimi said. “And I hope this won’t be the last time The Nash Speedwell Experience performs live.”
“I’m not making any promises, but I hope not.”
“But why did you do it? Did Jay blackmail you or something?” Mimi asked.
The answer came out of his mouth before he could shove the words down. “I did it because I’m in love with you.”
“Oh.” Mimi’s eyes closed.
No, no. Nash needed them open. He needed to know what she was feeling. He needed that window to her emotions just in case she started shutting herself off from him.
“Mimi, that doesn’t have to change anything. I love you, but I’m not asking for anything other than what we have,” he said hurriedly.
Her eyes opened. A sheen of tears covered the multicolored irises. Happy tears? Sad tears? Angry tears? Nash didn’t know how to interpret them.
“Well, maybe you should.” She spoke slowly, deliberately.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been giving me so much space, you’ve been so careful not to ask me to change, but I think I’m starting to want to change. I was right when I said being in this relationship is changing me, changing us, and I finally realized that’s not a bad thing. I’ve made this comfortable life for myself, but I accidentally made a wall around it, limiting myself to Misty Harbor and what I could have here because I was scared to ask for more. Scared if I really made myself vulnerable to someone, they’d reject me, just like my father’s family. I’m happy here. But you’ve opened my world and made me see even if my life works, it could be so much bigger, richer. You brought that to me. And I’m so grateful.”
“You’ve made a great life for yourself, Mimi. I love it here, with you. I don’t need us to go traipsing across the globe to feel fulfilled.”
“But your life is so much bigger than mine. It’s not exactly easy to be a superhero from Misty Harbor.”
“You do it every day,” Nash said. “You’re a hero to every kid who walks into the library looking for a place to belong, to every adult looking to make their life better, to every grandparent who wants to share a moment with their grandchild. You are a hero.”
“That’s sweet. But we’re talking about you. About that role. And I think if you want to do it, we could figure something out. Long distance. You wouldn’t have to be there all the time, I could come visit on the weekends, stuff like that?”
The uncertainty in Mimi’s voice made him hopeful. “But tell me, is that what you’d choose? What if I turned them down? What if I spent more time on music and less on acting?”
Mimi’s eyes grew wide. “Is that an option?”
“I just want to know your honest, unvarnished feelings. Not what you think. Not what practical solutions you can come up with. I want to know what you feel.”
“I don’t know—”
“Please. Tell me.”
“I want to be with you. I want you to stay in Misty Harbor, with me. I—I love you, too.”
Nash’s breath caught in his throat, and he felt suspiciously like tears were welling up. He schooled himself, managing a full breath before he gathered her close, heedless of her beautiful dress and his sweaty shirt.
“Hearing that makes me so happy.”
She pulled back to look at him sternly. “But that’s not a good enough reason to turn down an opportunity like the one you’ve been offered.”
“Maybe it is,” he said. He didn’t care about the superhero franchise—he already felt like he could fly. Mimi loved him back. Everything else was a distant second. “We’ll figure it out later.”
“Okay.” She sounded slightly doubtful, but she met him halfway in a scorching kiss that left them both breathless.
“I should get back. I have to announce the silent auction totals,” she said a minute later. She touched the tip of her finger to his bottom lip. “You have a little lipstick here.”
He grinned. “I’m a mess. I’ll clean up and meet you in a minute, okay?”
“Okay.” She smiled at him. “You were really great out there, Nash.”
He’d almost forgotten about his performer’s high, in the rush of hearing Mimi say she loved him.
“Thanks.”
After she’d gone, he quickly changed shirts, not bothering to redo his tie or don his jacket. He did take a minute to wipe the lipstick off his mouth and fix his hair. His heart felt like it was full of helium.
Mimi loved him.
Chapter Thirty
We don’t have to touch, we don’t have to tease.
We don’t have to kiss, we just have to breathe.
“Sleep With Me,” The Nash Speedwell Experience
Mimi looked at the number the silent auction coordinator had given her. That couldn’t be right. She looked up, and Delia nodded at her.
“Seriously? We made this much on the silent auction alone?”
“There was a bidding war on that Sawyer’s Cove set day experience, so I asked Camille if she’d donate two packages to the two highest bidders, and she said she’d do three, if all three matched the top price.”
“Wow.” Mimi had high expectations for the fundraiser, but the number she’d envisioned as a successful haul was a fraction of the number that would encompass the silent auction, the ticket sales, and direct donations. Not only would they make their goal, they might have enough to endow a second complete scholarship in Mr. Russell’s name.
“This is incredible,” Mimi said.
“You did it,” Delia said. “You should be so proud of yourself.”
Mimi didn’t want to take all the credit, but she allowed herself a moment to take pride in a hard job well-done. “Thank you. I better go make the final announcement before everyone takes off.”
“Oh, I think you’re going to have a hard time getting rid of everyone,” Pauline said, materializing from somewhere. “Jay put on an eighties mix, and there’s some serious boogying down going on.”
“Oh, cool.” She smoothed her dress. “Okay.”
Pauline wasn’t wrong. It looked like every single one of the nearly three hundred guests was on the dance floor, hopping around to the B52s. A glance at the depleted dessert bar led her to conclude they were all high on sugar. She waited until “Love Shack” was over to pause the music and grab the mic.
