When in Rome
: Chapter 37

There’s a quick three-tap knock on my dressing room door, so I know it’s time.

“Come in,” I yell and the door opens.

Claire steps inside. “Ready?” she asks with a big smile and I return it because having Claire as my assistant has already been such a relief. I feel like I finally have an advocate and a friend in this business. A friend other than my mom, who is hovering around somewhere backstage, flirting with all the stagehands. Our relationship isn’t perfect yet, but it’s getting there. We’re slowly untangling the lies that Susan wove around our relationship over the years. After a little digging, I realized that my mom hasn’t even been accepting money from me the last few years. All those “requests” that came from her through Susan were actually going right into Susan’s pocket. Needless to say, Susan is going to need a really good lawyer.

I also hired a new manager, Keysha, a powerhouse woman who’s been in the business for thirty years managing some of the top artists of my time. But I’ve decided to do things a little different this go-around. I delegate most of my personal-life stuff to Claire (except for talking with my mom, which I do myself now) and leave the big-picture stuff up to Keysha. I really trust Claire. Also, she freaking loves my bangs, so take that, Susan!

The only thing that’s missing from my life right now is Noah. I miss him so much already. I miss that town. I miss his sisters. I miss his hands and his chest and his pajamas and his moody face and his smile and his absolutely everything. We talk on the phone, but not nearly as much as I’d like, and the last few times I’ve tried to call him, I’ve only gotten his answering machine. It’s possible he’s busy, but more than likely, he’s pulling away.

But tonight is the opening of the tour, and I have to focus. It starts in my very own Nashville, Tennessee, playing a sold-out show at Bridgestone Arena. After this one, we hop in the tour bus and go to Atlanta, and then Houston before hopping on an international flight to London. I’ll spend a few months on the international leg of the tour, and then have a short break before finishing with the remainder of the U.S. portion. I know that by the end of all this, I’ll be burned out and exhausted all over again and ready to escape back to Rome, Kentucky, to see my favorite people—but for now, I’m taking care of myself and enjoying the ride.

“You ready, Freddy?” says Claire because she’s sort of dorky in the most supportive kind of way. And best of all, she never calls me Rae. Firing Susan was the smartest thing I’ve ever done, second only to driving my car into Noah’s front yard.

“I’m ready.” I stand and slip on my earpiece. My short, sparkly silver dress glints in the dressing room light, and I make sure my heels are secured to my ankles.

Claire and I leave the dressing room. Will drops in line behind us, staying glued to me like he will every day of this tour. The chanting of the crowd grows louder with every step I take down the back hallway of the arena. There are tons of crew members scattered around and wishing me luck as I pass by them. I pass my mom and she squeezes me in a tight hug, telling me I’m going to be great.

No matter how many times I do this, I never fail to feel a swarm of butterflies, adrenaline, and downright fear in this moment. But in about thirty seconds, I’ll be standing dead center stage in front of fifty thousand people waiting to watch me perform, and absolute joy will take over.

Backstage my band is gathered and waiting for me. I step up into their circle and we all hold hands and say a quick prayer that no one face-plants on the stage and has to be rushed off with blood gushing out of their nose (it happened to me once and I’ll never forget it).

A crew member takes my hand then and helps me step inside the riser that’s going to lift me up where I’ll appear in the center of the stage. The roar of the crowd is so intense I feel like it’s going to lift the roof off the arena. I insert my second earbud and it quiets the noise. Shutting my eyes, I breathe in for five more seconds before the riser lifts. On an inhale, I picture myself staring straight into Noah’s woodsy eyes and on an exhale, I imagine him pulling me into his arms.

And then the floor rises. Fire shoots all around the portion of the stage I’ll be emerging from, and I know that while it’s flaming, no one can see me. I take 1.2 seconds to get in position with the mic in my hand, and then just as they are supposed to, the flames dissolve and everyone can see me. The audience erupts and I raise my chin, smiling and looking around the arena, soaking up this moment. The band starts playing and I raise the mic to my mouth.

The only thing that could have made this night better is if I knew Noah was waiting backstage to kiss me when the show is over.


“Thank you, Nashville!” I yell into the mic after finishing the last song of my encore. I take a few minutes, waving and blowing kisses to all the fans, accepting a bouquet of flowers that gets tossed onto the stage and freezing when I realize they are sunflowers in brown paper wrapping tied with a string of twine. My heart races even though I know it shouldn’t. But still, I think of Annie and her flower shop, and maybe…just maybe…I squint out at the crowd trying to see who they came from, but the lights are too bright. When three more bouquets make it onto the stage—all various types of flowers—I have convinced myself these sunflowers are not from Noah.

I give one final air kiss and bow to the crowd while clutching the bouquet to my chest and walk offstage. Immediately, a stagehand is at my side, giving me a towel for my sweaty forehead and a bottle of water. Claire is there, too, telling me how great the show went and going on about the crowd, but I’m exhausted and a little disoriented after being shocked by this bouquet of flowers.

“Claire,” I ask, stopping abruptly in the middle of the hallway, forcing her to stop and face me. “Did you happen to see who threw these flowers?”

She shakes her head. “No, sorry. There were tons of people throwing bouquets tonight. Do you want me to have them all brought onto your tour bus?”

I shake my head and hand her the sunflowers. “Just these. Thank you.”

“Okay,” she says sweetly. “Why don’t you go rest for a few minutes in your dressing room?”

I’m already unfastening my heels and then carrying them with me as I walk toward the dressing room. Currently, I’m wearing my last costume of the night—a floor-length, gauzy dress in dark purple. It has lots of layers that fly all around me as a stage fan blows. It’s my favorite costume of the entire concert, but right now, I’m sweating so hard all I want to do is drop it to the floor the second I step into my dressing room.

As we walk down the hallway, everyone I pass offers congratulations on an epic tour opener, and I feel grateful to be back here, doing this another year. When we arrive at my dressing room, Claire opens it for me and then smiles wide. Too wide. Suspiciously wide.

“Why do you look like that? Did you booby-trap my dressing room or something? Is a bucket of water going to drop on me the second I walk in?”

Her smile only grows. “Find out for yourself.”

I cringe as I step through the door, bracing for any and all kinds of impact. Water, slime, a burst of feathers—I’m ready for it. I never could have braced myself for the impact of Noah’s presence, though. Well, Noah’s and my mom’s since she’s currently releasing him from a big hug. She pats the side of his arm and walks to me, whispering, “He’s cute! I like him,” before leaving and shutting the door behind her.

We’re alone now and my breath catches as my eyes collide with his. Greenest green as intense as an avalanche. He’s here. In this room with me, and all I can think is Dear Lord, please don’t let me be severely dehydrated and seeing things that aren’t really there. Namely, Noah Walker.

“You’re…here,” I say, still having trouble formulating words.

A slow smile unfurls over his lips and he steps toward me. His eyes track the length of my body and then to my face again. “I am. And you are stunning. Your concert was incredib—Oof!” I slam my body into his before he can finish his sentence and crash my mouth into his. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, so he gets the message that I’m never letting go. I hope he doesn’t have stage fright because I’m going to have to perform like this from now on.

He laughs and encircles my waist, holding me tightly to him.

“You were out there!” I say once I finally stop kissing him. “Did you throw flowers from Annie’s shop?”

He nods. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant this week.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he says as his face shifts into a frown. “Emily stopped by the shop yesterday and pointed out that I’ve had my head up my ass.” I laugh because I can perfectly picture Emily giving Noah a dressing-down. “Turns out, I’ve been distancing myself from you because I worried this wouldn’t work between us.”

“I figured when my third call went to your answering machine.”

He grimaces. “I’m so sorry. But you have my word that I’m all in from now on. No more playing it safe. I want to give this relationship everything I’ve got. And to prove it…” Noah’s hand dives into his pocket and then pulls out an iPhone. He takes my hand, turning it over and placing the phone in my palm.

“You got a cell phone?” My voice is pure awe. Tears are clinging to my lashes. For most people this wouldn’t mean much, but for Noah, adjusting to modern technology is on par with changing religions.

“And Wi-Fi is being installed in my house as we speak. If I have to be apart from you for months on end, I at least want to be able to see your pretty smile on FaceTime.”

“You really are getting internet installed at your house?”

“Yep. And I’m going to need you to show me how to use this damn thing. Why are there so many little pictures on the screen?”

“Those are called apps.”

He grunts. “I don’t like them.”

“We’ll delete all of them except for the ones you need.”

“I still don’t love it.”

I smile and toss his phone onto the dressing room couch so I can wrap my arms around him again. “I’m all in, too, just so you know.”

“Good, because there’s more.” He runs his fingers across the fringe of my bangs and then down the back of my hair like he’s savoring me. “If your offer still stands, I’d like to join you on tour more often. I don’t want to spend these entire nine months without you.”

A happy sigh escapes my ear-to-ear smile. “Really? What about your grandma and The Pie Shop?”

“I worked it out with my sisters. They were happy to adjust the schedule to where they take more days visiting Grandma. And I already have someone who works weekends for me who said she’d be happy to cover for me while I’m gone.”

I give him a quick peck on his mouth again like I’m proving his frown doesn’t exist now. “What about this week? Could you take off and come with me to the next two shows?”

He bends and kisses my cheek. And then my jaw. And then my neck. “I was really hoping you were going to offer that because Claire already had my bag taken to your tour bus.”

A joyful laugh spills out of me. Along with an embarrassing amount of happy tears. “Are you kidding? We are going to play so much Scrabble now!”

His kisses turn hotter—blazing one after another up the line of my throat while his big hand cups my backside and squeezes playfully. “I don’t know…I was thinking of something else we could do that would be more fun.”

I give a delighted hum, telling him just how much I approve of that idea.

He pulls away long enough to give me a slanted smile. “Finish the book we were reading together, obviously…what did you think I was meaning?”

I kiss him. Slowly and tenderly. “Oh, me, too. Reading for sure.”

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