The Auction (Club Indulgence Duet, #1)(74)

The notes turn slower. She softens her tone, and a full river of tears rolls over her cheekbones. "And you make me invisible." Another set of only notes passes. She adds, "Invisibly broken." She continues playing, lowers her voice, and sings, "Yet I still love you."

The music stops, her glistening eyes stay pinned on me, and deafening silence ensues.

Ears claps loudly, pulling me out of my trance. He turns to the sound tech, "Tell me you got it recorded."

"All of it," he replies.

"Fuck me," one of the agents mutters.

"She's the next Nora Jones," another one declares.

"Told you I wouldn't waste your time," Ears states, then flips on the microphone. He gushes, "That's a hit, superstar."

Blakley wipes her face, lifts her chin, and squares her shoulders. She redirects her focus on Ears. "Thank you."

"Are your other songs all on the piano?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Let's do a round with only the piano, then. Take a break, guys," he orders the musicians.

They leave the room and disappear.

For six hours, Blakely sings, stating she doesn't need a break. Food arrives, but she doesn't eat, nor do I. She drinks water between songs, insisting she doesn't need to rest.

She hurls everything she thinks about me, along with how much I've hurt her, never singing without her sad, sometimes angry, blues pinned on mine and voice to match.

Nothing's ever felt so painful. It's like taking a hammer and hitting me over the head without any mercy. As the day goes on, they bring the musicians in, attempting the songs with different instruments.

It doesn't matter how many times I hear the lyrics. The words always feel like the first time I'm hearing them, as if they're a scab and Blakely's ripping it off me.

"You got any other material?" Ears asks.

She states, "I'm in the process of writing something, but it's not done."

"You mind singing what you've got so far?" he questions.

"If you want."

"I do," he proclaims, then once again clears the recording box. "Take another break, boys."

"Three, two, one," the sound tech directs.

"This one's called 'The End,'" Blakely announces, then moves her fingers over the keys. She belts out more revelations.

This time, it's about how she's on borrowed time, how she's not wanted forever, and how she'll be tossed away.

Every note is heartbreaking. Every blast of her voice, soul crushing. And the constant stare into my eyes supplies a steady stream of chaos to my blood.

"We're not forever, our days fade before us, and it's all okay to you," she blasts.

Is that what she thinks?

She continues, "There's no love from you." Another tear drips down her cheek.

The air turns stale in my lungs.

She stops playing and says, "That's all I have for that one."

"How long until you can finish it?" Ears questions.

She shrugs. "A few days."

"Good. Do that. I think we have enough for today. Can you come back next week?" Ears asks.

"Of course," she responds.

He declares, "That's a wrap, then."

The room erupts in applause, but Blakely doesn't beam as she should. She forces a smile and leaves the recording box.

Agents swarm her, introducing themselves and handing her their business cards. Anxiety appears in her expression again, and it's clear she's overwhelmed.

I take the business cards from her and interject, "Thank you for your enthusiasm. We'll schedule meetings with those of you we're interested in dealing with. Now, if you'll excuse us, Blakely's had a long day." I steer her out of the room.

"Riggs," Ears calls after me.

I spin us, arching my eyebrows.

He steps in front of us and nods at Blakely, a huge grin overpowering him. He asserts, "You got the goods, girl."

For the first time all day, she beams. "You really think so?"

He chuckles. "When those agents fight over you, you got the world by the balls."

She glances at me.

I tug her closer, still shaken by her songs and processing it all while having no clue how to deal with the damage I've done.

"Get some rest, Blakely Fox. Your name is about to go global," Ears claims. He pats me on the back.

"I'll call you tomorrow," I inform him, then lead Blakely to the Porsche. I open the door.

She gets in.

I shut the door, go around to my side, take a deep breath, and slide onto the driver's seat. A few minutes pass, and I turn to her, trying to figure out what to say. But everything is jumbled.

She slowly meets my gaze.

I finally just admit, "You were amazing."

She says nothing and stares out the window.

I open my mouth, then snap it shut. What am I trying to say anyway?

I turn on the engine and pull out into traffic. We drive in silence, but time doesn't help my thoughts. All I know is I need to get my shit together and do better. For the first time ever in the history of my relationships, I'm not looking for an out. Yet I'm unsure what that means for either of us.