The Liar

He brushed a hand over the back of hers. “I’ll help you straighten it out.”

“Because that’s what you do?”

“That, and because I’ve got a thing for you that just keeps getting bigger. And you’ve got one for me.”

“You’re sure of that?”

He only smiled. “I’m looking at you, Red.”

“I’ve got no business having a thing for you,” she muttered. Then as she had on Callie’s laugh, she let it go. “But maybe I do.” Her smile was pure temptation as she rose. “Just maybe I do.” She trailed a fingertip down his arm, felt the low vibration. She’d forgotten how heady that small, simple power could be. “You enjoy the show now.”

She went back into the kitchen, which was utter chaos, slipped into the broom closet of an office to take a breath.

Tansy rushed in. “Oh sweet God, Shelby, we’re slammed. Derrick’s pitching in behind the bar so we can keep up. How are you? Are you ready? I’m half sick with nerves.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “And you look cucumber cool. You’re not nervous?”

“Not about this. There’s so much else I have to be nervous about, so this? It’s like sliding into an old pair of slippers. I’ll do good for you, Tansy.”

“I know you will. I’m going out in just a few minutes, quiet them down and announce you.”

She pulled a ragged strip of paper from her pocket. “My checklist. I do better with one. Okay. The machine’s all set up just the way you wanted, and you know what to do there.”

“I do.”

“If anything goes wrong with it—”

“I’ll wing it,” Shelby assured her. “Thanks for saving that table for my parents.”

“Are you kidding? Of course we saved them a front-row seat—absolutely top of the checklist. And it stays reserved when they leave until your grandparents get here. I’ve got to go check on a few things, then we’ll go for it. You need anything?”

“I’ve got it all.”

Since she wanted it to be easy, natural, she went out early, chatted with a few people she knew at the bar. Got herself a bottle of water.

She knew her mother tended to get worked up before she performed—or always had—so she didn’t go to her parents’ table but sent them a smile. And another for Matt and Emma Kate. One more for Griff as Tansy stepped onto the little stage.

When Tansy spoke into the mic the clattering, scraping and voices quieted some. “Welcome to our first Friday Nights. We’re traveling on back to the forties tonight at Bootlegger’s, so sit back and enjoy those martinis and highballs while we bring you tonight’s entertainment. Most of y’all know Shelby, and most have heard her sing. Those who haven’t are in for a treat. Derrick and I are pleased and proud to have her here, on our stage, tonight. Now y’all give a Rendezvous Ridge welcome to our own Shelby Pomeroy.”

Shelby walked onto the stage, faced the room, the applause. “I want to thank y’all for coming out tonight. I’m so glad to be back in the Ridge, hearing familiar voices, breathing that good mountain air. This first number puts me in mind of what it was like to be away.”

She started with “I’ll Be Seeing You.”

And here she felt like herself. Shelby Pomeroy doing her best thing.

“She’s just great,” Griff murmured. “Sensation.”

“Always was. You’ve got stars in your eyes.” Emma Kate patted his arm.

“That’s okay, I can see fine through them. They just brighten things up.”

She sailed through the first set, pleased to see people come in, crowd at the bar or at tables. When she took her break Clay walked straight up to her, lifted her off her feet.

“So proud of you,” he whispered in her ear.

“It felt good. Really good.”

“Wish we could stay, but I’ve got to get Gilly home.”

“She okay?”

“Just tired. It’s the first night in a month she’s made it past nine.” He laughed, squeezed Shelby again. “Come on over before we leave.”

She glanced over, saw Matt and Griff pushing the tables together so her family, her friends made one unit.

Maybe she’d had a rough start to the day, she thought, but it was turning into a perfect night.

She spent some time with them, then went back to the bar for more water.

It didn’t hurt her feelings when she noticed Arlo and his friends leaving. She’d lose that mild discomfort from having him stare at her.

He’d often stared at her, just like that, when they were teenagers. And, she recalled, had tried to get her to take a ride on his motorcycle or sneak off for a beer.

She’d never done either.

And she found it downright creepy that years later, he’d still just stare at her, unblinking as a lizard.

Griff slipped up to the bar beside her, and made her think of much more pleasant companionship.

“Go out with me tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I—”

“Give a guy a break, Shelby. I really want some time with you. Just you.”

She turned, looked straight into his eyes—bold, green, clever. Absolutely nothing about those eyes made her uncomfortable.

“I think I want that, too, but I don’t feel right leaving Callie two nights running, and asking my parents to sit her again.”

“Okay. Pick a night next week. Any night, and anywhere you want to go.”

“Ah . . . Tuesday would probably be best.”

“Tuesday. Where do you want to go?”