Love Songs & Other Lies(82)

“You’re not?” She looks confused, and it may be the optimist in me—because I will ask her to move in with me someday—but I think I see a little disappointment, too.

“I’m not.” I squeeze her shoulders and take her hand again, as I turn her chair back around.

Nonni smiles at me. “I like this one.”

“See, she likes me.” I give Vee a cocky smile.

“She’s always liked you,” she says, matter-of-factly.

“She just met me.”

Vee raises her eyebrows at me and Nonni laughs. “I might be old, but I remember a face when I see it every day. And you spent a whole lot of time lurking behind that curtain while this one”—she nods toward Vee—“was visiting with me.”

I open my mouth to speak, but don’t know what to say. Vee bursts into laughter beside me.

“I always joked about you stalking me, but really”—she’s trying not to smile and failing—“at a nursing home?”

“What can I say?” I raise one of her hands to my lips. “The two people I love most spend a lot of time at nursing homes.”

The air around us feels charged, and I’m acutely aware of the fact that we are sandwiched between our grandmothers. In a nursing home. I clear my throat dramatically. “So, about the job hunt.” My eyes settle on Nonni, hoping that bringing this up in front of her is the good decision I had hoped it would be. “We actually found you one.”

“Who exactly is ‘we’?”

“Logan and I. Well, the whole band, really.” Vee pulls her hand out of mine, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’ve told you both a hundred times, I’m not qualified to manage the band.” She sighs, and I think she wishes it weren’t the truth. “Especially now that you’re going to be negotiating the record deal, and planning a major tour. There’s all sorts of legal issues. You need someone professional.”

“Right,” I say. “We actually hired a manager a few days ago. Should be finalizing the paperwork next week,” I say.

“Oh.”

“We were thinking you could be involved in a different way, actually. Play a bigger role with the new record and the tour.”

“A bigger role than manager?” She rolls her eyes at me again, and I know I should just spit it out and tell her, but I’m having fun riling her up. “Seriously, Cam, I’m not qualified to be your publicist, either. I’m not qualified to do anything for the band anymore.” She punches me gently in the shoulder. “Face it. You’re a big deal now.” She’s so adorably proud of us, I can’t help but kiss her. After a quick peck she pushes me away, darting her eyes at Nonni. Right. Still in a nursing home.

“We’re going to need help when everything starts up again. Recording the album, working out the tour details, writing new songs—we’re going to need you there.”

“Of course. You know I’ll help,” she says.

“Yeah, you will. You’ll have to, actually. Because we were thinking you could go on tour with us.” I wait a second for it to sink in. “Definitely not as our official groupie.” She’s still silent. “A co-headlining tour, Vee. We’d play songs separately and together.”

I’m waiting patiently for her to say something, but she just stares at me like I told her I was going to cut my arms off and let Anders use them as an oversized set of drumsticks. I’m not sure if it’s a good-silent or bad-silent. I’m hoping she’s just in shock, overcome with emotion. She’s still staring at my shirt, not meeting my eyes, when tears start to run down her cheeks.

“Vee?” I tilt her head up to look at me, and swipe my thumbs across her cheeks. “Are these happy tears or sad tears? Because I’ll be honest, I’m worried you and I have too many sad tears.” She laughs and looks over at Nonni, who is beaming at her, her own eyes glistening. Maybe it’s genetic.

“Everyone is okay with this? Anders and Reese, too? You’re not just trying to find an excuse to take me on tour with you?”

“It was actually Jenn’s idea, but she told me I could pitch it. It’s an official offer from the label, but the band is definitely on board. Reese hopes to use you as a wing-woman on tour, just so you know.” She looks between me and Nonni, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. I do want her on tour. But more than anything, I want her to have everything she wants. I want the world to see how amazing she is. And yes, I want to be able to see how amazing she is every single day. Even if it’s on a stuffy, cramped tour bus.

“So what do you say, are you ready to officially become a rock star?”

Vee looks at Nonni then me, and she smiles. “Can I really say no?”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The list of those who made this book possible is long and filled with people I could never gift with enough hugs.

A gigantic I Love You to the likely suspects: my husband, for letting me obsess for a year, and not trying to peek over my shoulder. My sweet, wonderful Rory, for loving me back “big time,” despite some missed bedtimes while editing. To my mom, for believing I was a writer way before I ever did, and my dad, for being unbelievably proud. Thank you for raising me to be a dreamer, and to always believe those dreams are within reach.