A Brand New Ending (Page 69)

Ophelia sighed. “Somehow, some idiot posted my karaoke on YouTube, and it went viral. Albert asked me to sing at his restaurant a night or two a week. I promised Kyle I’d think about it, so I’m still considering.”

Mia dropped her fork and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She looked pissed. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for a while, but Ethan said you’re sensitive about the subject so I backed off. Now I regret it, because some things need to be said.”

She frowned, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“For starters, I’m the idiot who uploaded the video to YouTube.”

Ophelia gasped. Shook her head. “No! You wouldn’t do that to me!”

“Do what? Show off the amazing talent God gave you? I wanted to upload it the night you sang, but I decided to back off. Then I overheard some people in town raving about your singing, and how they wish you’d do more appearances. So I just did it. Within hours, the stats went crazy. Last time I checked it had a bajillion views. Yet you still stubbornly hide yourself away and pretend you don’t want to sing.”

Uneasiness flared. Kyle’s words had been haunting her, but she’d pushed them aside for a while, choosing not to think about it.

“I like to keep my singing private. That video opened up a whole bunch of chaos and questions for me. I get stopped in town and asked if I’m going to record some songs, or if I’m singing locally. It makes things awkward.”

“Why?” Mia demanded. “What are you so afraid of?”

She stiffened. “I don’t want to deal with anything like what happened in California. I dropped out of a reality show because they were making me feel more like a piece of meat than a singer. They judged me and disapproved of me and poked me to see what they could do to make me look better, act better, be liked more. It was about everything but the singing.”

Mia tilted her head. “You never told me about this.”

Ophelia sighed. “I know. It’s just that, after I quit, everything blew up. There was a ton of gossip about me and I was written up in all the magazines. It was so humiliating. They called me a diva and tore me to shreds.”

Mia gasped. “That’s terrible! Dammit, if I had been your PR rep at the time, I would’ve beaten them at their own game!”

Ophelia smiled. “I would’ve loved that. Anyway, I swore I’d never sing in public again. It’s not about fear, Mia. I just don’t need that kind of stress in my life ever again. It made me question myself and my singing.”

“But this is an entirely different situation. This happened when you were young, in California, pursuing stardom.” Mia sighed. “You’re so stubborn. Just like Ethan.”

“Am not!”

“Listen up. You stopped singing to protect yourself from the crap being thrown at you. I totally get that it was necessary at first, but now you’ve closed the door to any future opportunities, too. Why are you denying people the chance to enjoy your voice? Taking care of people is part of your calling, Ophelia, and your singing uplifts everyone. I don’t think you’ll ever be truly whole without expressing that love for singing to the world. But it doesn’t have to be on television or Broadway. It can be done quietly, right here, where you belong.”

She stared at Mia, hearing Kyle’s voice echoing over and over with the same mantra. She’d been fighting public singing for so long, thinking it was the road to ruin, she’d never allowed herself to think outside the boundaries.

She remembered the amazing freedom and pride she’d felt after singing karaoke; the flush of pleasure she’d gained from the audience’s enthusiastic response.

She imagined herself at Crystal’s, in front of the piano. Singing songs she chose, the way she wanted, for the people she loved. In her mind, there would be no judgments or opinions. Just a quiet evening to share her voice.

“You’re right,” she said slowly. “You and Kyle are both right.”

“Of course we’re right. Just try it once. If you hate it, I won’t push you again. But I think you may find a piece of yourself that’s been missing.”

“You training part time to be a shrink?” she grumbled, stuffing a cucumber in her mouth.

Mia beamed. “I’m PR, babe. I counsel people all the time to be the best versions of themselves.”

“Damn, you’re good at your job. Okay, I’ll do it. But no more videos unless I know you’re recording.”

“Fine.”

They gazed at each other and laughed.

A few hours later, Kyle called. The sound of his smooth, rich voice made her heart ache with longing.

“I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. It’s too sunny here. I never noticed how many fake tans people have—why don’t they just go outside and get a real one?”

A giggle escaped her lips. “What happened at the meeting? Did it go well?”

“They liked the script. Want to buy it. They just had some . . . tweaks.”

His hesitation spoke volumes. Immediately, her senses pricked up. “Big tweaks that change the story? Or little ones?”

“They want me to add a subplot, which is standard for the industry.” Defensiveness poured over the line. “I don’t like it, but they’re making a reasonable request.” The tension in his voice painted a picture.

Oh, he definitely wasn’t happy. Was he going to do it again? Let a bunch of studio executives tell him what his story should be about?

“Did you agree?” she asked softly.

“Yeah. I did. They’re also offering production credit. I’ve been trying for years to be listed as a producer, and now I finally have the opportunity. It would be crazy to turn it down for just a few changes.”

Sadness coursed through her. She felt like she was reliving the past, but she refused to let this define what they’d discovered again with each other. “I read the book, Kyle. It’s beautiful and gut wrenching, and I cried. It’s everything.” She didn’t tell him about the ending, not wanting to discourage him.

“I’m glad.”

Why did his voice sound so distant? As if even this phone call was perfunctory, and he was itching to get back to work?

Nausea roiled through her gut. She swallowed and tried to remind him about what they had discussed in the intimacy of their bedroom. “Remember what I said? Don’t let them take away the heart and soul of your story, no matter what they promise.”

She waited awhile for his answer. When it finally came, she closed her eyes in disappointment.

“I made the right decision. I want to see this story made, and Bell is a star director. They want to cast Liam Hemsworth! I’d be nuts to walk away.”

She closed her eyes against the anguish, but kept her voice light. “Sounds like you got exactly what you wanted. I’m glad. How long do you think you’ll be out there?”

His pause vibrated with tension. “Just a few weeks. I’ll try to fly in for a long weekend, but they’ll need me to stay close for a while as we get things moving. Maybe you can come out and visit while I’m stuck here?”

“I’m moving into high season for the spring. The inn will be booked steadily for a while.”

“Right.” Silence hummed over the line. “Well, I have to get to this party in a few hours. Don’t worry—we’ll make it work. Call you later. Love you.”