9781618857293WhisperSweetNothingsHunter Page 3

  "Eh, just this economy and all. Makes finding work tough and…" His voice trailed off. "I don't wanna bore you with my troubles. Everyone has troubles of their own."

  "True, but it doesn't mean we have to go it alone. Tell you what…I haven't eaten yet and am starved. Want to have dinner with me? My treat?" She gave him a wistful smile and a pout, forcing him to smile.

  "You don't have to do that, I—"

  "No, I don't, but I hate eating alone and to tell you the truth, I don't have the nerve to go in there by myself." She pointed to the club.

  "Sure, sure. Okay. Just this once and only if you promise to come over for dinner at our place one night soon?"

  "Deal." A few moments later, they were seated at a table, ordering drinks and dinner.

  "Tell me about this old dream of yours," he asked before taking a long draw of his beer.

  Laughing, she glanced around the club, her gaze settling on the stage, her hand indicating the woman about to sing. "That is my dream Joe…to sing."

  "Can you sing?"

  She laughed. "Yes, I think so, but I've never really done so in front of anyone before. Unless my grandmother counts?"

  "What's stoppin' you?"

  She shrugged her shoulders, taking a sip of red wine, staring into the ruby liquid a few moments before responding. "Nerves. Fear. I don't know. My friend, Sam, knows the owner and keeps pushing me to ask for an audition." The word friend slid quite easily over her lips.

  "Ya got one foot in the door. Why don't you do it?"

  "I can't, Joe. I have Grandma to look after and real-life responsibilities. There's no room for dreams right now."

  "Bullshit!" he snapped, standing up. "Excuse me, waiter…I want to see the owner immediately."

  Sarah sat in stunned silence. "Oh my God, Joe! What the hell?" Fear coiled in her stomach and all she wanted to do was run.

  "If you ain't gonna do something for yourself, I will."

  "Joe, no don't…please," she argued, wondering if it was too late to slip out unseen.

  Seconds later, the owner appeared at the table. "I'm the owner. What can I do for you?" he asked, looking them both over as though trying to decide who he was going to throw out first.

  "Your friend Sam suggested you might be interested in the lovely Sarah here."

  The well-dressed man raised his brows curiously.

  "To sing…interested in me to sing…here," she stammered, mortified by the possible misunderstanding of their intentions.

  "Well, Sarah…any friend of Sam's is a friend of mine. Let's see what you've got."

  After glaring at Joe, she chanced a glance up at the owner who gave her an expectant smile while waiting for a reply.

  Joe leaned forward. "Sarah, you're too young to give up on your dreams. We rarely get do-overs in this life. Go for it. What do ya have to lose? Do it for your friend Sam. He believes in you…believe in yourself."

  Any anger she felt towards him melted away and she crinkled her nose. "You are in big trouble, mister."

  "What are you going to sing for us tonight Sarah?"

  She surprised herself by answering his question. "Do they know the Bruno Mars song, Just the Way You Are?"

  "Sure. Come see me after dinner. I'll get you set up."

  An hour later, in an almost surreal twist of fate, Sarah found herself up on stage. The crowd cheered, the music started and to her horror, she found herself mute.

  Joe stood and started clapping in time with the music, singing the first few words of the song.

  As if of its own volition, tired of waiting for her to face age-old fears, her voice stepped onto the stage with her. The crowd joined in, cheering her along, and with each passing moment, her confidence grew.

  In her mind's eye, she conjured up the image of Sam, putting him in the front row of the audience. With this simple inspiration, she sang as she never had before, her voice fierce with a passion drawn from her very soul.

  When done, a moment of silence and then the crowd erupted in cheers, clapping their way to a standing ovation.

  As a fierce blush crept over her cheeks, she took a quick bow and rushed off stage. Joe stood at the door, a knowing smile on his face before he slipped into the night, obviously intent on escaping her promised wrath.

  Later that night, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush of singing—and the offer of a regular night at the club—she wrote Sam a long letter, stopping just short of telling him about Crossroads, partly afraid of jinxing the first glimpse at realizing her dream, but mostly afraid he'd find out the truth about her.

  * * * *

  "How is my little songbird doing tonight?" Donovan asked as she went over the set with the house band. After a few months, she'd earned her place as the opening act for Friday and Saturday nights, warming the crowd up before the headliners, but he'd called and asked her to come in tonight, telling her to dress nicely.

  Sarah laughed. "Not too bad, boss. How about you?"

  "You've been good for business, darlin', so I can't complain." He gave her his million-dollar smile and she laughed again. Donovan Church was quite the character, reminding her of the actor from the Criminal Minds series, Shemar Moore.

  "The place looks fantastic tonight. Anything special going on?"

  "Maybe." He gave her a sexy, mischievous grin.

  Usually a man of many words, his silence piqued her curiosity, but she decided not to push. As she did every week for the last three months, she asked the same question. "Have you heard anything about Sam?"

  Week after week he'd given her the same response, tonight being no different. "No, nothing, darlin'. You'll be the first to know when I do. I'll let you get back to work."

  Trying not to let her imagination run wild, she failed miserably and all manners of horrible scenarios stormed through her mind. Please let him be safe, she prayed. She'd be the first to admit she missed him, surprised by how much he'd come to mean to her.

  For a Thursday night the club was packed, all tables either taken or reserved. Each time she went on stage, her confidence grew. She'd even had Rachel come down and videotape the set so she could show her grandmother, who, as it turned out, was her biggest fan to date.

  She could hear Donovan on the stage, running through his introductions and bantering with the crowd.

  "Tonight we have a special guest in our midst…a true hero in every sense of the word. Having him home safe and sound, it's an honor to have him here tonight. Please...a big round of applause for my good friend, Lt. Samuel Meade."

  Sarah nearly tripped over her own feet when she heard the name, certain her mind was playing tricks on her.

  The crowd erupted in applause and Sarah stood at the foot of the stage, frozen in fear, struggling with conflicting emotions. First and foremost, she was thrilled to know Sam was safe after having feared the worst for all these months. But what they had over the phone and through letters kept their relationship undefined and…safe.

  Having him here—seeing him face to face—changed everything. Knowing what he looked like didn't help either as waves of self-consciousness came over her in relentless succession. What if he'd conjured up an unrealistic image and she fell far short of the girl he thought he had this crazy, idealistic crush on?

  Reality struck like a fist slamming into her gut. He wasn't here to see her—Sarah. He didn't even know who she was. He knew Sherry, the phone sex operator who'd nursed him emotionally through his deployment.

  At the sound of her name, she looked to Donovan, shaking her head. This is crazy. She couldn't do it. Taking a step back, she was instantly filled with fear and shame.

  "Seems our songbird has a little stage fright tonight…let's see if we can remedy that…" He nodded to the band and they started to play, taking the immediate attention from the situation.

  "Sarah! What the hell is going on? Every damned week you ask me about Sam and here he is, in the flesh and you don't want to see him?"

  Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry. "It's…it
's complicated. There are things I haven't told you and…"

  He cut her off. "Then they are none of my business. What is my business is the boy out there who has been through hell and back. Do you have any idea what it took for me to get him here? This is the first time he's been out since he came home and…Sarah—he needs this. Trust me."

  Swallowing hard, she struggled with the urge to run like hell or stay and do the right thing. This was Sam, her Sam. If he'd called her at WSN, she would never have turned him away. Why should she tonight?

  Because he doesn't even know who you are.

  "So are you going out there or what?"

  Nodding, she watched him walk back on stage, fidgeting uncharacteristically with the long, red dress she'd worn tonight.

  "Ladies and gentlemen…for your listening pleasure…Sarah Cole." The lights dimmed as he walked off the stage.

  Again, the crowd erupted in applause, the audience filled with the regulars—familiar faces who frequented Crossroads.

  Walking onto the stage, her gaze moved over the crowd, searching for Sam, filled with both trepidation and joy at the prospect of actually seeing him.

  Then she caught sight of a gorgeous man—jet hair and familiar blue eyes. Sam. God, he looked so much older, as if he had been to hell and back just as Donovan had said.

  His gaze moved over her appreciatively, an easy smile on his face, but she caught what appeared to be a glint of disappointment in his eyes. Was it that he didn't like what he saw or had he been expecting someone else?

  To hell with it. She was here to sing and sing she would. Starting her set, she put everything she had into each song. With her cover of Cage the Elephant's, Ain't No Rest for the Wicked, she had the audience on their feet and singing every chorus with her. She loved performing this song in particular, tossing in mild theatrics to draw the crowd into the scene she painted with the lyrics, lyrics rather true to real life.

  All the while, she felt his eyes on her, but each time she looked at him he seemed uncertain yet expectant, as if still waiting for someone else.

  She wanted to scream. It's me, damn it! The real me! But she kept her features schooled and put on the show of a lifetime.

  Just before leaving the stage, she took a bow, thanking the crowd and the band before announcing the headliner for the night. One last time, her gaze found his and for a moment, she searched those blue eyes, giving him a sad smile before turning to go.

  Halfway down the second step, she stopped. Chances were once he talked to Donovan, the truth would be revealed and she might be out of a job. Worse, though, he'd never know what he'd given her, even if he wasn't interested in pursuing their friendship…or whatever the hell this was…once he discovered the truth. He deserved to know.

  Marching back onto the stage, she whispered to the house band before stepping forward. "As mentioned earlier, we have a special guest with us tonight. I think the occasion calls for a special song…my gift to him for the sacrifices he's made for all of us. What do you say? One more?"

  The crowd roared and Sarah began to sing the song she sang for him on the phone that night so many months ago. The crowd fell silent. Her gaze held his, watching as blue eyes widen in surprise and then—recognition. He sat up straight, never looking away, even as the last strains of Dido's, Here with Me left her lips.

  Tears filled her eyes as the audience stood. If she could do this every night of her life, she would be the happiest woman alive. Taking a final bow, she nearly ran off the stage, planning to leave before he could find her. She heard someone calling her name, but kept moving through the crowd.

  "Sarah? Please…wait!" The voice came from right behind her and she turned, watching as Sam struggled to catch up, a seemingly painful limp making the task difficult.

  Warring with the need to leave and the desire to stay, the decision quickly became obvious—she couldn't leave him…not like this. Unable to resist the urge, a hopeful smile slipped from her wary façade.

  Just a few steps away now, he stopped to catch his breath, a brilliant smile lighting his face.

  Time seemed to stand still as the fantasy of finally meeting face to face became reality.

  An instant later, chaos erupted around them. "Gun!"

  One word elicited terrified screams and Sarah found herself caught in a stampede toward the front doors, nearly falling several times as the crowd dragged her along. The sound of Sam's voice shouting her name faded in the din. Finally knocked to her knees, she grasped the back of a chair, looking up to find Joe holding a gun on the bartender.

  "Oh, God…Joe?" she managed to say, her voice barely a whisper, but the sound enough to draw his attention in the now nearly empty club.

  "What the hell are you doing here tonight? You weren't supposed to be here!"

  "Joe, don't…put the gun down before you hurt someone." On shaky legs, she stood to face him.

  "Sarah, get away from him damn it!" Donovan shouted, charging towards her protectively.

  She shook her head, her gaze never leaving Joe. "Please…"

  Security quickly surrounded them both and one burly guard surprised her by drawing a gun, training it on Joe.

  "I don't want to hurt anyone." Joe's voice cracked, the gun unsteady in his trembling hands.

  "I know," she said calmly. Taking a deep breath, she leveled her gaze on his. "This isn't like you. Come on…talk to me."

  "They're gonna take my kids, Sarah. I can't let that happen. They're all I got left…just give me the money and I'll go." His desperation was palpable, as was his obvious lack of judgment.

  "This isn't the way. You have my word I will help you. But if you do this, your kids are going to family services and you…you're going to jail. For the love of God…put the gun down."

  A long moment passed before he finally put the gun down on the bar. "It's not loaded." He dropped to his knees and quickly, she went to him, hugging him tightly, shielding him from security.

  "Don't hurt him! He didn't mean to do this."

  "Sarah…let me take care of this." Donovan stood over them, reaching a hand down towards her.

  "Promise me you won't hurt him. He's a good man and he loves his kids. He just needs a little help and…"

  "No one will hurt him. You're family now…any friend of yours is a friend of mine." He echoed his sentiment from the first night they'd met. "Trust me."

  Taking his hand, she stood, watching as his men took Joe to the back.

  Oh, God. "Sam! Where is he?" Frantically, her gaze searched the club, looking for any sign of him. A small group had gathered near the stage and she pushed her way through, unsure what to expect.

  Huddled in the corner, Sam had his hands around his head, as if shielding himself from some unseen attack.

  "He's suffering from PTSD," Donovan whispered, standing behind her. "We have to get him out of here."

  She'd seen a few cases of PTSD at the nursing home, a devastating consequence of wars old and new. Without a second thought, she went to him. "Sam…hey, it's me."

  "Sherry?" His voice broke.

  "Sherry. Sarah. It's still me."

  "I'm…sorry."

  "There's nothing to be sorry for…come on…take my hand. I don't know about you, but I need some fresh air."

  The moment Sam put his hand in hers, a wave of soul-deep awareness tore through her, shaking her to the very core. Speechless, she worked on steadying the erratic beat of her heart while helping him to stand.

  Walking towards the front door, she stopped long enough to let one of the girls retrieve her bag from the back room. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she turned to find Donovan looking at her worriedly.

  "Thank you. What about Joe?"

  "You take care of Sam and I'll take care of Joe. We'll get him in a cab and have him taken home. We can talk tomorrow, all right?"

  Nodding, she reached out to hug him before leaving with Sam.

  The cool night air rushed over the heated flesh of her face, a welcome reprieve from the confines
of the club. Nearly midnight, the streets were quiet. "Oh…this feels much better. How are you doing?"

  "Better."

  "Do you want me to take you somewhere?"

  He looked at her with those haunted blue eyes and her heart skipped a beat. "I don't want to be alone. I…"

  "After what happened in there, neither do I. Would you like to come home with me for a little while?" The fear of rejection sent her fragile heart pounding.

  "I don't want to be any trouble."

  "You've been trouble since the first night we met," she teased and he laughed.

  The ride back to her apartment was quiet, both unsure what to say.

  "Well, here we are. Be it ever so humble." Once inside, she showed him to the sofa, making sure he was comfortable. "Want something to drink?"

  "A beer if you have one."

  Nodding, she went to the kitchen and pulled two beers from the refrigerator, turning in time to catch him looking at her backside. He blushed then smiled sheepishly.

  "You weren't lying…you do have a nice ass," he teased and she laughed, remembering their first call at WSN.

  "As do you, lieutenant." Handing him the beer, she sat on a chair opposite the couch.

  "Yeah, well if you like one with a dozen or so scars, then I'm your man. Those IED's are murder on a guy's ass, you know."

  "Is that why I haven't heard from you? I've been worried. I asked Donovan about you every week and…"

  "I returned stateside a little while ago but…I don't know. I have been dealing with some stuff."

  "I understand but…not knowing if you were alive or not…it was hard." She tried to keep any judgment from her voice.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd want—" He cut himself off before finishing. "So your real name is Sarah?"

  Nodding, she took a sip of beer. "Sherry is my stage name so to speak. You had to know I wasn't likely using my real name, right?"

  "Yeah, I guess I did but to me…you were Sherry…my Sherry. Are you still there?"

  A moment passed before she answered. You have nothing to be ashamed of Sarah. "Yes, I am. Not as much these days since I've been opening at Crossroads on Friday and Saturday nights but…" she hesitated when a look of disappointment crept over his face.