"Is this seat taken?"
Trent looked up to see a beautiful blonde with long, straight hair and a gorgeous smile standing next to him, a full tray in her hands. "Uh, no." She reminded him of Bree--sort of. She wasn't quite as pretty as his friend, but the hair was similar, and she had a nice smile.
"Thanks. It's crowded in here."
The rest of the semester flew by in a blur of classes and weekend gigs. By the end of the school year, Bree and Sam were practically inseparable. They were even discussing the possibility of getting an apartment together when school started in the fall. Bree didn't know how to tell Lilly, though. They'd been roommates for three years, and she couldn't imagine leaving her their senior year.The last day of school, Bree was in their room, packing up to go home for the summer when Lilly came in, an odd look on her face. "Hey, are you okay?" Bree asked, dropping a paperba
Summer in Highview was boring. Most of the day, Bree sat in her new room and practiced the guitar. It wasn't as if it was actually her room, though. Her parents had left almost all of the belongings from her room in Shelbyville boxed up because they assumed she wouldn't be moving back in with them. With only one year of college left, she'd likely be moving out on her own, starting a new job and a new life somewhere else. So… they'd set up her bed and her dressers so the room could be a guest room. That was it. The rest of the room still looked an awful lot like Grandma's old storage room. Most of her things were in boxes stacked against one wall now instead of occupying the majority of the room, but it wasn't like it was Bree's own space.
"What the hell was that?" Heather demanded as Trent came back to where he'd left her standing in the doorway of the convenience store."That was a fist bump," he explained. "Now… if you'll excuse me… I need a Gatorade.""But… did you just stop here because you saw her car?" Heather followed him, the tone of her voice grating on his last
Summer was over in the blink of an eye, but when Bree moved back to college for the fall, she moved back into the dorms. Dating Sam was one thing; living with him was something else entirely, and she’d realized after seeing Trent at the convenience store that she didn’t want to take the chance at moving in with someone and having him break her heart halfway through the first semester. Then, she’d have nowhere to go.She’d just finished unpacking her things when her dorm room door opened. A tall woman with long dark hair and a smattering of frec
With her backpack slung over her arm, Bree hurried down the hallway to her dorm room. She’d forgotten her Chem book, and she’d need it that day for a quiz. Professor Cross always let them use their book when he gave them a quiz, and she’d need it since she’d been out late the night before playing in a local club with Sam and hadn’t had time to study.Dropping her backpack by the door, she grabbed the doorknob, thinking it should be unlocked because Melissa didn’t have class right now. When the door was locked, she was surprised but
Bright lights had Bree blinking, but that was all right. This was the biggest audience she’d ever performed in front of. Over five hundred people dotted the auditorium in front of her. It was all surreal. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She couldn’t wait to start her songs.After graduating with her degree in musical arts a few months ago, Bree had taken a chance and moved to Nashville, Tennessee, one of the most popular places in the world to live if you were a musician and/or a songwriter. She was both. Now, after a huge amount of marketing and
“Good afternoon, we are here today on Nashville Rising Star with one of the newest voices in country music, Bree Matthews. Bree, it’s nice to have you with us.”“It’s nice to be here.” Bree took a few deep breaths and tried to still her racing heart. In the last year, she’d done a ton of interviews, but this was the biggest one to date. Alice Kingston was one of the most popular journalists in Nashville, and her show had a huge following. Bree was so thankful her agent, Zelda, was able to get this booking for her.
Sitting down at her laptop, Bree did a quick search for a getaway she might be able to fit into her schedule while she had the week off. The more she thought about going to the beach, the better it sounded. How long had it been since she had a real vacation? The cabin trip back in college definitely didn’t count. She imagined herself sitting by the ocean, sipping a drink, letting her toes sift the sand as seagulls circled overhead and the sound of the waves soothed her to sleep.“That’s it… I’m going to the beach!” Bree decided, do
Two weeks later…. Bree sat on the beach, a drink one hand, Trent’s fingers interlaced with her other where it lay in the sand. The ocean waves rolled in, wetting the sand near their toes, the sun baking down on their tan skin as it dried from their first dip in the ocean. There would be plenty more.&nbs
The sound of the gavel echoed throughout the courtroom. No one said a word for what seemed like the longest few seconds Bree could ever remember. Then, the people around her came back to life, and she found air in her lungs again. “Are you okay?” Trent asked. He was always asking her that, checking on her, making sure she was all right. Bree nodded. She was all right. She was going to continue to be all right, too. It seemed like a nightmare that had lasted almost two years was finally over.&nb
Yet again, Bree found herself speaking to a police officer. This time, she wasn’t the one lying in a hospital bed, though. Instead, after they’d pieced together enough of the story to know that the maintenance man had been trying to make it so that the pipe above her head would move down, Bree and her bandmates had been asked to come to the police station. The others were sitting outside, or maybe one or two of them were being interviewed by other officers now. All she knew was the man sitting across from her, Detective Coop Wellington, didn’t look like the sort of person one kept information from. “We know Monica and this&helli
“All right--Bree Matthews!” a stagehand shouted, coming over with a clipboard and a microphone on his head. “Are you ready?” “We are ready!” Bree said for all of them, bouncing on her heels. “Then, head to your spots.” He signaled for them to approach their section of the stage. The band had been prepped on how this would work before the show. They headed to the places they’d been told to earli
Sitting in a chair, staring at a runway, brought back way too many uncomfortable memories for Trent. Had it really just been a little over a year since he’d spent at least one or two days a week sitting in just such a chair, waiting for Monica to come down the stage? It seemed so strange now. He tried not to fidget, but his leg was bouncing up and down so quickly, he was glad he wasn’t outside because he might manage to start a fire with the right kindling--and like Bree, he’d had enough of fire for one lifetime. “Are you all right?” Celia asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You’re making me nervous, an
Anxiety bubbled up in Bree as she stood in the staging area, getting ready for the big show. All around her, models and bands were putting the finishing touches on their makeup and hair, the models getting into their first outfits so that they’d be fully prepared to grace the runway as soon as it was their turn to take the walk and show off the newest fashions to an invigorated audience. From what Bree could tell, this wasn’t actually one of those fashion shows where the clothing was practical and might be bought by the average housewife. No, it was mostly lingerie, and it was mostly, well, ridiculous, in her point of view. None of it was s
The sound of voices from the television met Bree’s ear as she walked through the apartment door. She checked the time on her phone. It was only a little past 3:00. What was Trent doing home? She had to assume it was him watching the television because it sounded like the news channel, and if the housekeeper had turned it on, it would’ve been a soap opera or court show. Hanging her purse by the door, and placing her keys where she could find them, she went into the adjoining room to investigate. Trent was sitting on the couch with his laptop open on his lap, his stocking feet on the coffee table, typing away. She almost didn’t want to
Meeting Monica at the event center where the Nashville Nights concert was to be held was intimidating, even though Bree had her bandmates with her. She had insisted Trent go to work; it was a Thursday afternoon, after all, just after lunch, and there was no reason for him to miss work to walk with her through the building where she’d be playing in a couple of nights, not when she had three capable men and Shawna with her to give her moral support.Trent had protested, saying he’d feel much more comfortable if Bree allowed him to go along, that the rest of the band wasn’t aware of how Monica could be. It had almost led to an argument. Bree had insisted she wasn&
“This is a horrible idea. The worst one ever. In the entire history of the world, I cannot imagine one idea worse than this one.” Celia sat across from Trent in his office, her arms folded, her legs crossed, her face puckered.At the moment, he couldn’t even allow himself to snicker at her exaggeration. While he agreed that what he was about to do was a terrible idea, he could think of lots of other ideas that were worse, many of them involving wars that had killed thousands or millions of people. Or spread disease. Or polluted the environment. But she was right--of all of the decisions he’d been directly involved in, this one was pretty awful.