“The new contract would mean another full album by summer. A world tour to promote it.” The manager looked like he’d swallowed something made of spikes. “We’ve been traveling on a bus until now, but the new contract would mean private jets. No more questionable motels or small venues. It’s the next level. And since we’re free agents at the moment, so to speak, they’ve quadrupled their offer to make us sign.”
If the ground cracked in half and sucked her in just then, Jasmine would have gone happily. A host of emotions fought for precedence inside her. Disgust at herself for considering asking Sarge to remain in Hook, thus relinquishing the multitude of opportunities yet to come. Gratefulness to James for being honest with her, because Jasmine knew—without a doubt—Sarge never would have told her the facts. Lastly, she felt a freezing shower of sorrow and loss, soaking her down to the skin. “I can’t let him pass that up,” she managed. “The whole band would lose out, too.”
“If I may make a suggestion?” When she nodded, James swiped a hand down his jaw. “Just make him a part of the decision. Don’t cut him out.”
Jasmine watched the manager stride away with a mixture of dread and shock. Don’t cut him out. But what choice did she have? She’d let her newfound confidence make her selfish, let it blind her to what would matter to Sarge. Oh God, it would kill her to let him leave, especially after deciding to give their relationship a chance, but it was the right thing. She’d gotten stuck in Hook, but no way in hell would she be the reason for Sarge doing the same. It had to end. It had to be tonight, before she gave him any false hope.
Sarge had brought some children up on stage to dance, but his gaze cut to hers swiftly, making Jasmine wonder if she’d called his name out loud. Her sinking heart must have been obvious, because his indulgent smile slipped in response. Unable to stand being this close to him and knowing what was to come, Jasmine wove through the crowd and beelined for the ladies’ room.
After seeing—feeling—the light go out of Jasmine’s eyes from across the room, their set could not have ended fast enough for Sarge. Something was wrong. He needed to find her. Now. Needed to figure out how to fix it. In the parking lot before the show, there hadn’t been a sense of loss jackhammering him in the neck. There hadn’t been a driving urgency to get Jasmine in a corner and demand to know every thought in her head. Right now, it was all he could think about.
Unfortunately, about forty people were lined up to take photos with him and shake his hand. Lita and James were speaking in hushed tones behind the makeshift stage, leaving him to work the crowd alone. Any attempts to escape were thwarted, though, as he received unnecessary gratitude for putting on the show, for bringing presents for the children. He mumbled his way through it, scribbling his signature on everything from baseball caps to church programs. When he finally managed to break free, he strode for the back hallway where he’d seen Jasmine disappear during their third song, but his progress ground to a halt when his sister, River, snagged his attention.
River looked…distressed. In a way he’d never seen her. And when she directed it straight at him, Sarge knew exactly what it was about. It only took a few seconds for them to meet halfway in a quiet corner of the hall, but it took her twice as long to start speaking. It alarmed him, the way she couldn’t seem to draw a decent breath. “Riv—”
“How could you do that, Sarge?” She covered her mouth with a cupped palm. “You shouldn’t have. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”
River pulled away when Sarge tried to lay a hand on her arm, so he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What happened?”
“Vaughn. He left me a voicemail. At the church with Adeline, since he doesn’t have my home number anymore.” She paused, as if replaying the message in her head. “It was short, but he said you overnighted him a letter.”
God, had it only been a couple days since he’d sent that letter? It felt like a month had passed. “When things ended between you and Vaughn… River, he didn’t even know you were pregnant.”
“It didn’t matter. I still doesn’t. Do you think I want to be with someone who doesn’t want me?” River’s gaze found Marcy across the room where she stood, watching the big kids test out tambourines. “I was going to do right by Marcy with or without Vaughn—and I have. I’ve done the best I can.”
Sarge grasped her shoulders. “You’ve done unbelievable, Riv. Marcy is just…she’s everything.” He dipped down so their eyes were level. “But we’ve known Vaughn a long time. Or we used to. The guy I remember would want to know you were struggling. He would be sick knowing you were doing this all alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she said, visibly upset by his words. “I have friends. Good people around me who love my daughter and help when they can.”
It hurt when River didn’t mention him, but he camouflaged it. “The money I send you goes straight into a college fund. You don’t even use it.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “You shouldn’t have to work two jobs. You shouldn’t be so exhausted.”
She twisted away on an uncharacteristic curse, then came back. “Who told you all this? About the night job?”