Rise - Part One (Rise #1)(21)

It's an easy explanation for a very complicated path. I first knew that I had a natural talent for drawing interest to events when I was with Ansel. We forged a plan in my dorm room one night of how to get him the attention he needed to launch his music career. Videos of him performing his own songs online were the first step, but we both knew that it would take much more than that to get him noticed. We launched a series of mini events at high schools, shopping malls and bowling alleys. Any place where we could get a few moments of time, in a strategical position within the venue, we would take.

Ansel would perform with just his guitar and I'd record it all. I'd upload the performances to his social media sites and tag other singers, music producers and even friends of the friends of people who worked at radio stations.

By the time we announced a free concert for Ansel during a block party one summer evening, interest was already growing. The local news showed up, girls flocked to see him and within weeks the views of his videos online climbed into the tens of thousands.

"You're serious about being an event planner because you just wanted to work for yourself?" Landon repeats the question, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"My dad always told me that if you can be your own boss, you should do it." I tap my fingers against his chest. "He told my brothers and sister the same thing."

"You have brothers and a sister?" He moves his head slightly. "How big is your family?"

I push a hair off my forehead as I look at him. "I have three siblings. I come from a big family."

"I'll say." He raises both brows. "Are you close to all of them?"

"I'm the youngest," I confess. "They're scattered all over the country, but I talk to them pretty regularly."

He nods as if that appeases his curiosity enough for the moment. "I talk to my brother more now. We weren't close for a long time."

"Was that because of your dad's death?"

He shifts his legs and I feel instantly bereft when he pulls his arm away from me. "He was close to my dad. He missed him a lot. I did too."

"Death is hard," I say with little experience. The only person that has died in my family was my Aunt Grace. She's Ivy's mom and she died before I was even born. Even though I never met her I still sense her loss each time I look at Ivy's face. There's a fleeting sadness in her eyes sometimes when she talks about the mother she never knew.

"My mom took it hard too." He pauses to look down at his hand. "She still wears the wedding ring my father gave her."

It's romantic in a way that's tragic. "She never fell in love again?"

"She never dated again," he corrects me. "She devoted herself to volunteering and helping Dane deal with my father's drowning. Dane is my brother."

I nod. I know that because of what I read online about that day. "You said he lives here, in New York?"

"He does. He's been in Paris with his fiancé, but they're coming back here soon." He rubs his hand over his shoulder, his fingers skimming across his tattoo. "He's a fireman."

I smile at the thought of that. "Your mother must be proud of both of you."

"For the most part I think she is." He half shrugs as he slides to the edge of the bed. "We've both let her down at times, but she still sees the good in us."

"She's sounds like an amazing person."

His eyes drop to the floor. "She's a saint. She's the most forgiving person I've ever met. My father did things that were inexcusable. There were things we didn't know about until after he was gone. Things that hurt a lot of people and she stood by his memory and the love she had for him. I don't know how a person does that."

I don't know either and as he stands up to pull on his clothes, I have to turn over to fight the urge to ask him what secrets his father kept hidden from everyone he loved.





Chapter 18


"When I got home from work yesterday Lilly was streaming music louder than should be legally allowed." Clive smiles as he looks across his desk at me. "Guess who she was listening to?"

If I was a detective hired to solve this mystery, I wouldn't get paid for more than two minutes of my time. I know the answer to that question. Ironically, his question answers mine about why he asked me to meet him here, at his office, instead of at his condo. "You know."

"I know. Lilly doesn't know."

I've never told Lilly about my relationship with Ansel Rinaldi. It was over before I met her and when I went to Milan my intention was to use that trip as an opportunity to cut off contact with him for good. Telling her about him would have only complicated my friendship with her. I know she adores him. I've heard her humming some of his songs when we've walked down the street together. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Tell me why it's such a big secret, Tess." He taps the tip of his pen against the edge of his laptop. "I thought you and my wife shared everything."

There's a subtle challenge woven into that statement. I've never seen a man more protective of his wife than Clive Parker is. He cherishes her, not only because he loves her more than anything, but because of her past. Lilly lived through a horrific event when she was a child. She told me about it one evening over dinner with the promise that I wouldn't bring it up ever again. I haven't. She lost her entire family when her father's depression became too much for him to bear. Lilly had survived and had to build a new life on her own. She did and now with a loving husband and child, she's flourishing.