Dreamland

“She should be. You’re all great. Had I known about you, I would have followed you like the other gazillion people.”

Just then, a flash of headlights appeared, signaling the arrival of the girls’ Uber. I saw Holly glancing at her phone and the car’s license plate, confirming the match as they headed toward the car even before it came to a stop.

“If you’d like, I can give you a ride back to the hotel.”

“I’m going to ride with my friends, but thanks.” Then, after a beat, “I’m glad you had a chance to get to know them.”

“For sure.”

She stood there for a second more, apparently reluctant to leave. “I should probably go.”

“Probably.”

“We might come to your next show.”

“I’d like that.”

“And if you write another song, I want to be the first to hear it.”

“I can do that.” I had the sense we were both stalling. The next words came almost automatically. “Have you ever been kayaking?”

“Excuse me?”

“My friend Ray told me about this place where you can rent kayaks and paddle through the mangroves. He said it was a pretty cool thing to do.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to go with me. Tomorrow, since you don’t have anything officially planned, I mean.”

It wasn’t the smoothest way to ask a girl out, but in that moment it was all I could muster.

She put her hands on her hips. “What time are you thinking?”

“Nine or so? That way you can be back in time for the Dalí or the pool or whatever.”

“Can you make it ten? Because of rehearsal?”

“Sure. How about we meet in the lobby?”

She touched my arm again, her gaze meeting mine. “I can’t wait.”





If anyone had told me before I came here that I’d go on a date when I was in St. Pete Beach, I would have laughed. But as I watched Morgan leave, I couldn’t help feeling pleased, even as I wondered what I was getting myself into.

There was something…charismatic about her. The word popped into my head as they drove away, and the more I thought about it, the more apt the description became. While much of what I’d learned about her amplified the differences between us, it struck me that I was the only one who seemed concerned about it. Somehow the fact that we both loved music was common ground enough for her. For now, anyway. Or at least enough for a first date.

But where was it leading? That was the part I couldn’t figure out. Was it a serious first step, or were we moving toward a simple fling? I’m sure a lot of guys would have been happy with the latter, and with anyone else, I might have been. But I was drawn to Morgan in ways that felt deeper than that.

I liked her, I thought, then suddenly shook my head, knowing that wasn’t quite right.

I liked her a lot.





I don’t think it was nerves, but whatever the reason, I woke at dawn and couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I went for an early-morning run, then tidied up the condo. After my shower, I swung by the grocery store to replenish the snacks and drinks in my cooler.

Assuming I’d get wet, I threw shorts on over a bathing suit, grabbed a spare T-shirt, and wiggled into my flip-flops. By then it was half past nine and I started for the hotel.

The lobby of the hotel was as grand as the rest of the pink palace, bustling in the morning sunlight. Checking my phone, I noted a text from Ray informing me that I’d be starting at four tomorrow instead of five, which meant I’d be playing an extra hour—no big deal; I responded that I’d be there on time. When Morgan finally appeared, she was dressed casually, a turquoise bikini peeking out beneath a white halter and faded denim shorts. She had a Gucci beach tote slung over her shoulder and a pair of expensive sunglasses perched in her hair.

“Hey there,” she said. “Sorry I’m a little late, but I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

“I think you’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Do you have everything?”

When she nodded, I swept my arm toward the door, and a minute later we were rolling down the long, ramped drive.

“How did rehearsal go?”

“Same as always. Just when I think we’re almost there, Maria notices something else we still need to work on.”

“Where do you rehearse? I haven’t seen you on the beach in the mornings when I’m out for my run.”

“We use one of the conference rooms on the main floor. We’re probably not supposed to, but no one at the hotel has complained yet.”

“So, you’re saying you’re a rule breaker?”

“Sometimes,” she offered. “Isn’t everyone?”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“There’s still a lot about me that you don’t know.”

“Care to share?”

“Only if you ask the right questions.”

“All right.” I pretended to ponder the possibilities. “Tell me about your previous boyfriend.”

“I never told you that I had a boyfriend.”

“Then consider me a good guesser.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. What was he like? How long did you go out?”

She sighed. “He was pre-law, two years older than me, and we met during my freshman year. But I was very involved with music and dance and my classes, and I wanted to hang with my friends, too. He had trouble understanding that. He’d get upset when I wasn’t able to spend as much time with him as he wanted, or he’d suggest that I blow off piano practice or whatever, and it began to irritate me. So after a couple of months I ended it, and that was that. How about you? Tell me about your ex-girlfriend. Or maybe it’s just…girlfriend?” She gave me a sidelong look.

“Definitely an ex,” I assured her, before giving her the brief rundown on Michelle, our incompatible schedules, and her eventual move out of town. While listening, Morgan absently polished the lenses of her sunglasses with her halter, her expression serious.

“Do you regret that it didn’t work out?”

“Maybe a little, at first. Not so much anymore.”

“I never regretted breaking it off,” she said.

“It’s good to know you can dump someone without a care in the world.”

“He deserved it.”

“It was his loss.”

She smiled. “By the way, my friends approve of you. They think you’re nice, even if they’re still not a hundred percent sure it was a good idea for me to join you today.”

“They could have tagged along.”

“It’s not that they’re afraid you’re going to do anything,” she explained. “It’s just that I’m the youngest, and sometimes I think they feel they have to watch out for me.”

“Like your parents?”

“Exactly. According to them, I’ve led a sheltered life, which makes me a bit na?ve.”

“Are they right?”

“Probably a little,” she admitted with a laugh. “But I think most people in college are na?ve. It sort of goes with the territory, especially if you grew up in a nice neighborhood and had a good family. What do any of us really know about the real world, right? Of course, if I said that to my friends, they would add that I’m also being defensive.”

I glanced over at her. “For what it’s worth, you don’t strike me as na?ve,” I said. “You carry Mace, after all.”

“I think they’re talking about my emotions.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so instead, I steered the conversation to easier topics. We talked about movies and songs we liked, and after I explained how my uncle had taught me to play the guitar, she told me that she knew the words to practically every song in half a dozen Disney movies even before she started school. She talked to me about her years in dance and the concerts she’d performed and raved about her private vocal coach in Chicago. Even in college, she’d traveled to see him every other week, despite the other time-consuming requirements of her major. When she finally mentioned the names of the managers she would meet in Nashville and the singers they represented—as well as their strengths and weaknesses—along with the vagaries of the music business in general, I thought again that Morgan was a lot more than a pretty face. There was a sophistication to her that I’d never seen in someone so young, and I was struck by the realization that my own attempts at chasing my dream had paled in comparison. While she’d been thoughtfully building her skills one step at a time and laying the groundwork for later success, I’d just been having fun.

Strangely, I wasn’t jealous about that, nor was I jealous that she’d had advantages and opportunities that I didn’t. Instead, I was happy for her, mainly because I remembered how much the dream had once meant to me. I also simply liked listening to her talk, and I realized the more I learned about her, the more I wanted to know.

When we reached Fort De Soto Park, I followed the signs and parked in a gravel lot near a wooden shack that offered kayaks for rent. Both of us got out of the truck and headed toward the attendant, who took the cash and handed each of us a paddle and a life preserver.