Sorrow's Muse by Shyla Colt Read Free Book Online Page B

callous.”
    “My experience with
people says they are.”
    “You can’t really believe
that, Jay. Not with the music you write.”
    “Those songs are
concepts. They’re how I hope the world can be one day. I’m not naive enough to
believe we’re there yet.” He knew he sounded like a Danny Downer, but he had to
make Paul see where he was coming from. It wasn’t easy to put himself out there
and the last time he’d been persuaded to had been a lie. Given, Colette was
nothing like most women.
    He glanced through the
sliding door of the balcony where Colette was making an impromptu buffet for
their lunch. She lifted her head and flashed a warm smile when their gazes
locked.
    He gave a flicker of an
answering smile back before he turned to Paul. “I got so distracted with
introductions I forgot to ask you why you were here.”
    “Just seeing how the next
tracks are coming along. The artist loved the clips you’ve sent him so far.”
    “It’s almost done. It’s a
new sound, but I dig it. I’ve been really inspired lately. I can barely control
the flow of creativity. I wake up in the middle of the night and I have to write. It feels like it did when I was just starting out and trying to make
a name for myself.”
    “It looks like you have
some new inspiration in your life Jay,” Paul teased.
    “Hmmm.”
    “Well, now that I know
everything’s good here, I’m going to head back home. Gina and I have a hot date
tonight. I’m going to stick my head outside and say good-bye to Colette.”
    “Okay.” Julian followed
Paul out onto the veranda. He pondered his friend’s words. Why did he think
Colette was into him? For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine it was
true. The warm and fuzzies set in and Julian knew he was on his way to being in
deep trouble.
    “All right, I’ll see you
later, bro,” Paul said.
    “See you later, Paul.” He
turned back to Colette.
    “Our mini-feast is
ready,” she said.
    “Thanks for setting it
up.”
    “Hey, you provided the
food today, so this was the least I could do.”
    Cold cuts, sliced pieces
of wheat bread, assorted bottles of condiments and a grape, strawberry and
melon medley were lined up in square plastic Tupperware on the middle of the
patio table. Two bottles of water sat on either side of the table.
    He took the seat that put
his back to the window and she followed suit in the seat across from him.
    “Paul’s nice.”
    “Yeah, he’s been my best
friend for ages.”
    “How did you two meet?
You seem more like brothers than friends.”
    He tensed. This was the
first time their conversations had ventured into his past in such a personal
way. Up until now, it’d always been generic: What bands did you like growing
up? What did you think you wanted to do when you were in high school? He
shifted in his seat and averted his eyes. “We met in high school. We were
foster brothers from sophomore year on.”
    “No wonder you trust him
to be your manager.”
    Her easy acceptance and
obvious avoidance of asking more made him wary. This was too good to be true.
He ate a few more bites of fruit. “That’s it?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re not going to ask
me why I was in a foster home?”
    “You didn’t seem
comfortable with the conversation and I’m here to enjoy our time together, not
to pry.” She arched an eyebrow. “Did you want to talk about it?”
    “Not particularly.” He
shook his head. “You’re a strange woman, Colette Starvos.”
    “I’ll take that as a
compliment.”
    “Good, because it was
one.”
    “I was out for a walk and
I saw Thursday evenings they have a farmers’ market near the beach.”
    “Yeah, it’s been going on
for a while.”
    “Have you ever been?”
    “No.”
    “Great, then we can
experience it together for the first time.”
    “Colette...”
    “What? You’re in the
house too much. I’m an artist too, but sometimes you have to get air.”
    “You know why I stick
close to home,” he mumbled.