Liz sat back in the chair and crossed her arms. “We’ll be the judges of that. Get your pretty ass up there and sing for us.”
Jenna laughed. “I have to wait my turn. Which reminds me, I have to put my card in with the deejay.”
She wrote down what she wanted to sing and ran it up to the stage, then came back, her throat suddenly so dry she had to flag down the waitress and ask for a bottled water.
“That’s why you brought us here tonight, isn’t it?” Liz asked.
“Maybe. I wanted you two to hear me. If I could get up enough nerve to do this. I figured you would be honest and tell me if I sucked.”
“You’re not going to suck,” Tara said.
“Did you sing when you and Ty came here?” Liz asked.
She looked down at her hands. “Yeah. Once or twice.”
“Oh. My. God. Our girl has been keeping secrets from us, Tara.”
Tara shook her head. “I’m shocked and appalled.”
“Stop it, you two. Mom and Dad don’t even know I sing.”
“Shut the front door again,” Liz said. “Are you serious?”
“I am. I’ve never sung in front of anyone. Well, that’s not true. I sang in Europe. But I hadn’t sung again. Until Ty.”
Liz slanted a glance at Tara before turning it back on Jenna. “Reallllly.”
“Yes, and don’t read anything into that. He found the guitar and songs I wrote—”
“Oh, my God, you write songs, too?” Tara asked.
“What else don’t we know about you, Miss Riley?” Liz asked. “Do you put on a superhero costume and fight crime at night in the metropolis?”
“Yes, but only between three and five a.m.”
“Oooh, aren’t you the smart-ass.” Liz cocked her head to the side and studied her. “There are new sides to you I’m just beginning to discover.”
“I think you’re going to be really disappointed when you realize I’m just an average singer who doesn’t wear a cape and tights.”
“Too bad. That would have been a great angle to promote you.” Liz spread her hand in front of her, mimicking an arcing rainbow. “The Superhero Singer. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “And you’re in the business to promote your players? The poor guys.”
Tara snickered. “Mick will be jealous he didn’t get a superhero name.”
Jenna laid her hand on Tara’s. “I don’t want Mick or Gavin to know anything about this. I just want the two of you to give me a listen and tell me what you think.”
Tara frowned. “But—”
“Please.”
“Okay.”
A couple singers came up after the band, then the deejay called her name.
Jenna looked at Tara and Liz. “This is it.”
“Kick some ass up there, sweetie,” Liz said.
Nausea swelled in her stomach, but she grabbed her guitar and stepped up on the stage.
“Hey, Jenna,” the deejay said. “Nice to see you again.”
Surprised that he remembered her from so long ago, she nodded and smiled back at him. “Thanks.”
“Gonna sing your own song tonight, I see.”
“Yeah. Going to give it a try.”
“Break a leg, sister.”
She swallowed and headed out to the mic, grabbed the metal stool, and perched on the edge. She did her best to not look like she might throw up or pass out at any minute. She scanned the crowd and found Liz and Tara, who both grinned and clapped loudly for her.
Taking a deep breath, she settled in and began to strum the guitar, falling into the music she’d written. It was a mournful love song about a breakup, about hurt and pain and what happens when you thought you were in love, but it didn’t work out, and how you found the strength to go on from there. She hoped a few people in the audience could connect with it.
She could always get lost in music, so she let it flow through her fingertips and through her voice, letting the words and the meaning pour through her soul to everyone who’d ever had love and lost it.
When she finished, she looked up, and no one moved, spoke, or said a word.
Oh, shit. She sucked.
But then everyone leaped to their feet, thunderous applause and claps and foot stomps springing tears to her eyes. She slid off the barstool and bowed, grinned, and left the stage.
The deejay stopped her. “Oh, no, honey. They want more.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah. Give them another.”
She turned around and went back, stunned to hear the whistles and hollers and clapping as she took her seat on the stool once again. This time she gave them a song more happy and upbeat, about finding your first love in the middle of summer, when everything is sweet and innocent, the kind of love that could never be forgotten. It was a fun song, something they could stand and clap their hands to.
At the end, they cheered for her just as loud and she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face.
“They love you,” the deejay said. “Don’t leave. I’m sure you’re going to want to play more tonight.”
“Okay, sure,” she said with a laugh.
She got stopped along the way back to her table for congratulations and pats on the back.