Then There Was You Read online

  “Okay, great.” Kellie swung her leather bag over her shoulder and gave her a smile. “I should have the tentative song list and timings in a few days. We can have a coffee to discuss them.”

  “Sure, that would be great.” Having coffee with the wannabe future wife of the guy she’d developed an irritating crush on was just what she wanted.

  She turned her attention back to her screen. Just don’t think about it. Don’t think about him.

  “So what did you think?” Josh leaned against the wall beside her, and the hair on the back of her neck rose.

  “It’s sounding great.”

  “I’m not sure about Almighty. It feels like something’s missing. Do you reckon?”

  That was one she remembered clearly because he was right. It was missing something, and she knew what. It had bugged her since she’d first heard it. The song was good, but it could be great. It had the potential to be the next Indescribable or Oceans.

  “I think you’re right.” Hopefully that would encourage him to work it out for himself. Telling him would only dredge up things she’d rather not think about it. Or reveal more than she wanted to share.

  He burrowed his hands through his hair. “I knew it. Are we doing too much? Should we strip it back? Go more acoustic?” He was talking more to himself than to her. “Maybe Kellie should take the vocal lead. Or switch Amanda to the grand.”

  “Strings.” The word was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  “Sorry, I missed that.”

  Oh, well, no backing out now. “It needs strings. Especially in the bridge. It’s a haunting kind of song. Strings will add depth to the arrangement. Like this.” She pulled up an old Planetshakers song that had always resonated with something deep inside of her. Clicked play on the sample.

  Within a few seconds of the opening measures, they started—violins, a beautiful cello, pulling the listener into the song. She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the perfect harmony roll over her.

  When she opened her eyes, Josh was staring at her. “You’re completely right. That’s exactly what it needs. How did you know?”

  Play it cool, Paige. Plenty of people learned an instrument as a child and had a rudimentary knowledge of music. She shrugged. “I used to play the violin a little.”

  Her heart clenched as she spoke so lightly of what was once an intrinsic part of her life, back when she’d had big dreams.

  Her fingers ran up her arm, fingers tracing the now familiar puckered ridges. Even though the surgeons swore it wasn’t possible, sometimes she was sure she could feel the remaining pins under the surface, holding her bones together.

  “Do you have any ideas for how it could work?”

  More than an idea. The bars had been dancing in her head for days, ever since she’d first heard it and realized what the song was missing.

  “Aren’t you the professional musician?”

  “True.” He held both palms up. “But I’ve never played a violin. Look at these fingers.” He held up his hands, spreading out fingers that were definitely on the thick side. “Imagine those trying to play a delicate instrument.”

  She shook her head, smiling.

  “Puh-lease. I know you have something. It’s written across your face.” He reached out and spun her chair to face him. “Would you like me to beg, is that it? Because I will.” He clasped his hands together. “Please, Paige, oh most wise strings guru. Please enlighten your humble servant—”

  “Stop!”

  “Not until you tell me what you’re thinking, oh magical fairy of the classical shire.”

  “Okay, okay!”

  He grinned with the glee of a little boy who had just been given a bag of candy.

  She took a breath. “I was thinking maybe something a bit like this . . .” She pressed her lips together, and hummed a few bars.

  He didn’t move, eyes closed, his face focused in concentration.

  She added a couple more. What was she doing? She’d reconciled herself to this part of her life being lost. She didn’t need a glimpse of the joy that could no longer be hers. She stopped.

  “It’s amazing.” Josh opened his eyes, capturing hers. “Could you do it? Play it against what we’ve got laid down so we can see how it works? I could source a violin for you.”

  Could she? She hadn’t played her violin in over a year. Not since it got too hard to keep going, knowing she would never be as good as she was. Her skill from years of training had vanished in the instant it took to break her arm in two places, tearing tendons from bone and pulling apart nerves.

  It wasn’t a complex melody. Nothing technically difficult. But her reticence wasn’t about a few measures of music, as much as it was about the loss that vibrated through her soul when she played. Every note could dredge up memories she spent her days trying to forget. She shook her head. “I . . . I don’t know.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “You must have people you use for this stuff. Some of your songs have string arrangements. I could write it down for your people. They’d pick it up.”

  He studied her face and nodded. “Okay, but if you change your mind, just let me know. We’re going to keep working on some of the other songs this week. There’s time.”

  Her phone trilled on the desk beside her. Thank goodness. She glanced at the screen and picked up. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Hi.” Her cousin’s voice lacked its usual verve.

  “What’s up?” She looked up. Josh had moved away to pack up some gear.

  “I thought I’d let you know that Dan is on his way over. So . . . .” A throat clear. “You might want to work late tonight.”

  “Why?”

  A sigh. “I’m going to do it. Break up with him. I’m not sure how he’ll handle it or how long it will take.”

  “Oh.” Paige absorbed what her cousin was trying to tell her. “Are you sure?”

  “A hundred per cent. And I need to do it before I leave for Chile.”

  “Okay, well good luck.” Good luck? Paige cringed at her choice of words.

  “Thanks. See you in the morning.”

  Paige set down her phone. Poor Dan was about to get his heart broken. He was going to cry. She just knew it. Guys fell for Kat hard. Yet Kat never seemed to make the leap from a-lot-of-like to love.

  Paige sneaked another peek at Josh. His long lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones as he wound up some cords. He was humming the melody she’d suggested for Almighty, his rich tenor giving the notes extra depth.

  Why couldn’t she bring herself to do this for him? It would take half an hour, tops. Just enough time to see if her idea worked, and lay down a demo for the strings players if it did.

  No. It wasn’t her responsibility. She was here to be a logistics manager, not a musician.

  She turned her attention back to her spreadsheet, staring at the cells as if they could magically re-arrange themselves and solve the logistics problems created by new health and safety regulations.

  “What are you working on?”

  She waved her hand at her laptop. “Feeding, watering, and bathrooming a gazillion women at the same time. I feel like I’m planning the church equivalent of the Normandy invasion.”

  Josh pulled the chair out from the desk beside her, spun it around and sat down. Paige shifted her chair over as he leaned forward and peered at the screen.

  “What am I looking at?”

  His arm brushed hers as he leaned forward, his minty breath wafting across her face.

  “Um.” She forced her attention back to her screen. Just pretend it’s Emily. Or Janine. Anyone except him. “Well, this is the layout of the main arena.” She pulled up the next image. “This is the layout of how everything is looking around the exterior. I’m trying to work out how to get Section B through to coffee and the bathrooms without having to funnel them through merchandizing area C.”

  “We don’t want them to go through merchandizing?”

  “It’s deb
atable, but my experience has been that forcing people to go through something like that ends up being counter-productive. Some people will want to buy stuff, but most of them will be fighting to get somewhere else, and they’ll be swimming against the people who want to get in.”

  “Hmm,” Josh peered at the screen. “What if—nope.” He cut himself off. “That won’t work. Maybe, if we—nope.” Leaning back in his chair he stretched his arms out and looked at the screen again. “I’ve got it!”

  “You have?” Paige wasn’t sure if it would be great or humiliating if Josh could solve in minutes the problem she’d been wrestling with for days.

  “Yup.” His hand reached out, and he slapped the laptop closed. “It’s time to go home. This doesn’t need to be solved tonight, unlike my need for dinner.”

  Was he about to—

  “Besides, my mother would have my hide if she knew I’d left a woman alone here this late at night. I’ll walk you out.”

  Paige felt her hopes deflate. No, he wasn’t. Which was fine. She could run over to the supermarket, pick up a few things, and come back. There were always things going on here until late at night, so she wouldn’t have any problem getting back into the main office.

  Standing, she made a show of gathering her stuff and shrugging on her jacket. Some takeout and a few snacks would do it. She had plenty of work to occupy her for the next few hours.

  They walked in silence down the dim hallway toward the main doors. “After you,” Josh held one of the doors open for her to slip through. “I’ll just be a couple of seconds—need to set the alarm.” He stepped back and a few seconds later a series of electronic beeps sounded.

  Outside, evening was well and truly upon them. She’d completely lost track of time in the studio. It wasn’t pitch black, but had darkened enough that the lamps lining the paths shed welcome light.

  Staring across the campus, she realized the main building was also shrouded in uncommon darkness. Great, of all nights, tonight had to be the night there was nothing scheduled. And she didn’t have the alarm codes.

  Josh stepped through the door beside her, then turned around, using his master key to lock it. He looked at her, then paused. “You okay? You look a little . . . lost.”

  She peered up at him. His gray eyes glittered under the lamps that lined the main path. “Kat’s breaking up with her boyfriend.”

  His face stayed blank.

  “My cousin, who’s my roommate. She’s breaking up with her boyfriend. He’s a nice guy who probably wants to marry her. But she . . .It’s going to be . . .” She did a weird gesture with both hands.

  Josh winced. “Ouch. Poor guy.”

  “That was her on the phone. Suggesting I might not want to come home for a few hours. I was going to get some snacks from the supermarket and come back and do some more work, but . . .” She waved a hand toward the main auditorium. “Tonight is the one night there’s nothing going on.”

  Josh grinned at her. “So I get to rescue a damsel in distress?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “Come back to our place for some dinner. There’s always heaps of food. I have to go do a songwriting session a bit later but even if no one else is home . . .” He gestured toward her laptop. “You’re welcome to take a corner of a couch and do more work or watch some TV, find a book, whatever, until it’s safe to return home.”

  She looked at him. There was no hint of mocking in his gaze, just earnestness.

  “Please. My mother will shoot me if she was to ever find out I abandoned you to go solo dine at Hungry Jacks or something equally tragic.”

  “I would hate to have the death of Christendom’s most illustrious worship leader on my head. In that case, thanks.”

  His gaze flickered for a second, then stilled. “Where are you parked?”

  “Oh.” She waved her hand across the campus. “In the lot behind the community center.”

  “Seriously? We must be able to get you a better park than that.”

  “It’s fine. I enjoy the walk.” During the day, that was. Not right now, as she tried to match his pace under the canopy of shadowed gum trees. It would be just her luck to be attacked by a drop bear in front of Josh. She cast her gaze up into the branches.

  “Do you think we should—”

  “So, how did you enjoy your flight to Australia?”

  “What?” She hadn’t seen that coming.

  “You know.” He shrugged. “It’s a long flight. People cope in different ways. A lot of the time, they drink too much.”

  This was one truly weird conversational shift, but whatever. She’d go with it. “Can’t say I noticed.” She’d been so busy breathing into a paper bag for most of the thirteen hours that the entire cast of Riverdance could have busted out a tap dancing, leg-flinging storm in the aisles and she wouldn’t have seen it.

  “I see.”

  She couldn’t see his face, but there was edge to his tone that compelled her to continue. “I hate flying. On the Chicago-LA leg, I took something that was supposed to put me out of my misery but instead turned me into a woozy disaster. I basically survived the next leg by blowing in and out of a paper bag for thirteen hours with my knees up to my chin. So, no, unless you count the guy next to me spilling half his bourbon and coke on me, I wasn’t paying any attention to what other people were drinking.”

  Josh had stopped dead in his tracks. “You took something?”

  The way he asked the question made her defensive. Apparently for him, flying was as natural as breathing. Well, good for him.

  “Yes, Mr. Professional Flier, I took a sedative my mother gave me in case I needed something because I hadn’t flown since—” She caught herself in time and clamped her mouth shut.

  “Watch out!”

  She heard the yell a split second before something slammed into her shoulder.

  “Argh! Get off me!” Throwing herself on the ground, she rolled over and over, her face smashing into leaves as she tumbled. She had not come half way around the world to be killed by a freaking tree bear.

  “Paige? Paige!”

  “Is it gone?” Her shoulder hurt but there didn’t seem to be anything on her.

  “Is what gone?”

  She peered up at Josh who was standing above her looking confused but not concerned. “The drop bear!”

  “The drop bear?”

  “That just attacked me.” She sat up.

  He crouched down, looking at her. “Seriously?”

  “What?”

  His lips twitched. “You got hit by a remote-control helicopter.” He held up a small, mangled device. “Or rather it was.”

  A boy who looked to be elementary-age and a woman ran up to them. “Oh my gosh, we are so sorry. It just got away on us. I knew it had gotten too dark to do this. Are you okay?”

  Josh stood up, offered her a hand, and pulled her to her feet. “She’s all good. Just got a fright.” He handed the helicopter back to the boy. “Sorry, I can’t say the same for your toy, buddy.”

  The kid took a look at his broken toy, then straightened his shoulders. “That’s all right. I’m glad she’s okay. From the way she dropped, I thought we’d really hurt her.”

  Josh’s lips started twitching again. Paige didn’t get what was so funny. Sure, it was just a toy. But if it had been a drop bear she could have been mangled, even killed.

  “Okay, well then, if you’re sure.” The mom still looked doubtful.

  “I’m sure.” Paige managed to conjure up a smile. “It’s fine.”

  She waited until they were about twenty feet away before she turned on Josh. “What is so funny?” She hissed the words between clenched teeth.

  Josh was laughing so hard, he was doubled over. “Emily . . .Emily . . .”

  She gave him a shove. “What about Emily?”

  “Emily is going to be devastated she missed this.”

  “Missed what?”

  He finally managed to pull himself together enough to stand up. “
Drop bears.”

  “What about them?”

  “There’s no such thing. They’re a joke people play on tourists.”

  “They’re . . .” She struggled to understand what he was saying. “There’s no drop bears?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “I’ve been walking around staring up at gum trees for months for no reason?”

  “I wouldn’t say that. We still have some spectacular native flora and fauna for your admiration.”

  “I just rolled on the ground like a . . . a lunatic, for no reason.” In front of him. Again. Always him! Even in the ever-increasing darkness she could see his wide smile.

  “So it would seem.”

  New mom or not, Emily had some serious revenge coming her way.

  Josh could almost see the cogs turning in Paige’s mind as she stared at him.

  Top teeth pinched her bottom lip, her lashes fluttering. She was going to cry. Oh, Lord, she was going to cry. Why? It was only a joke. And one that lots of people got pulled on them. Though, he had to admit, she was the first he’d met who had taken the drop bear threat so seriously.

  He pressed his lips together to suppress laughter as the image of her tumbling across the ground replayed in his mind.

  She drew in a shuddering breath, and he clenched his arms at his side to stop himself from giving her a hug. He was a heel for finding it funny. Obviously, it had scared the living daylights out of her. Paige was in a different country—one that did have some dangerous wildlife. How was she supposed to suspect Emily was pulling her leg?

  “Look . . .” He stretched out a hand, which landed on her shoulder with all the finesses of a teenage boy taking a girl to their first dance. “You weren’t—”

  He stopped talking as she bent almost double with the force of her shoulders shaking.

  He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping to his knees beside her, he peered up. The growing darkness made it almost impossible to see her face. “Look, I’m sorry, I know Emily didn’t mean to upset you.”