Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig

Eva

Iwake up to the sound of muffled cursing, the bed next to me empty. I sit straight up, a jolt of fear piercing the sleepy haze of waking up. Where’s Will? Please God, I think, don’t let it have all been a dream.

Then I hear that muffled cursing again and I sag back into the mattress in relief. He’s still here. And a moment later the bedroom door opens, revealing Will standing on the other side, a tray in his hands. He’s wearing just his boxer shorts, broad chest full of tattoos on full display. He sees me sitting up and the grin that stretches his face sends a flock of butterflies erupting in my belly. I wonder if that reaction will ever go away. I kind of hope not.

“Morning, sleepy girl.”

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Nearly ten.”

I gape at him. “Seriously?”

He smirks, bringing the tray over to the bed. “I wore you out last night.”

I snort. “I think it was the D&D marathon that wore me out.” I pull myself up to my knees. “What you got there?”

“French toast. But now that you’ve insulted my sexual prowess, I’m not sure I should share it with you.” His eyes widen as he takes in my expression. “Are you crying? I’m just joking! Of course I’ll share—”

A watery laugh bursts through my lips and I wipe my eyes reaching for him. “You made me breakfast in bed. No one has ever made me breakfast in bed.”

Will sets the tray on the mattress and pulls me into his arms. “I’ll make you breakfast in bed every day if you promise never to cry again. I can’t stand it.”

I laugh against his chest. “They’re happy tears.”

“Still don’t like it.”

I pull back to look up into his face and see that his expression is completely serious. “I’m going to cry sometimes, Will. That’s just life.”

He frowns. “Then I promise to always be around to wipe away your tears.”

My heart melts all over again. “For such a big tough guy, you’re awfully sweet, tattoo-boy.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” he admonishes, kissing the tip of my nose.

“Let me have some of that French toast and your secret is safe with me.”

I gape at the plate Will sets on my lap. Slices of thick French toast encrusted with candied walnuts and swimming in syrup sit next to plump sausages. The breakfast tray still holds two cups of coffee and a plate of fresh fruit.

“This is a Vega Ransome special,” he informs me. “Cream-cheese stuffed walnut French toast. You’ll love it.”

“Where in the hell did you find all this food? There’s no way this was all in my fridge.”

Will rolls his eyes. “There was nothing in your fridge. Seriously, Eva, don’t you ever cook?”

“Why would I cook when take-out is a thing?”

He looks pained. “You need real food. I had groceries delivered first thing.”

I look up from cutting into gooey toast. “How long have you been up?”

“Couple hours.”

“Will! You should have woken me up.”

He shrugs. “I was enjoying watching you sleep.” He looks up at me. “Wait, does that sound creepy or sweet? ’Cause if it’s creepy, I totally wasn’t doing that at all.”

I laugh, happiness swelling in my chest. I love this man so much. “Let’s go with sweet.” Then I take a bite of the toast and all I can do is whimper. “Oh my God. Can Vega come and live with me? I’ll pay her to be my personal chef. This is amazing.”

“Actually, she just got a really cool offer.” He tells me about the invitation for her to participate in the cooking competition, pride shining in his eyes.

“That’s amazing, Will. Please tell her I said congratulations.”

“You can tell her yourself the next time you see her,” he says easily, like it’s no big deal. Like it’s a given that I’ll be spending time with his family.

I force myself not to start blubbering again and ask him how the rest of the family is doing. He tells me about CeCe’s last soccer game, and taking his younger siblings out for ice cream, and spending time with Rose and River.

“What about you?” he asks once I’m caught up on all things Ransome. “What’d you, um, get up to the last week?” He winces at the question, at the reminder that we spent the last week apart and not talking.

I could tell him the truth—that I spent most of the last week crying and not sleeping or eating—but I can already see the guilt in his eyes over what happened. So instead I tell him a different part of the truth. “Well, I fired Dennis.”

It’s comical, the way he freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“You were right about the doctor. Total quack. He was just going to pump me full of drugs so I could delay the surgery and start performing.”

Will is halfway off the bed before I’m even done talking. “I’m going to kill that asshole.”

I grab his arm, attempting to pull him back. “It’s okay, Will.”

“Like hell it is! He’s not going to get away with—”

“I fired him, baby,” I cut in, tugging at his arm. “You don’t have to worry about it.” I look down at my now empty plate, embarrassment coursing through me. “Turns out he was a much bigger asshole than I thought. He, um, is the one who outed us. To the press.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

I nod, unable to look at him. He hated having those photographers hounding him at home and at work. And it was my asshole manager who made that happen. “I saw his phone. The day after…you know… you left.” God even saying those words hurts. “He was tipping off a reporter about the break up.”

“Jesus,” Will mutters. Then he shocks me by pulling me into his lap, wrapping strong arms around me. “Honey, I’m so sorry he did that. I know that you worked with him for a long time. That must have hurt, to know he betrayed you like that.”

I nestle into him, relishing the feel of his strength wrapped around me, his warm bare skin pressed against my cheek. “Honestly, I was too pissed off to feel hurt. I wanted to kick his ass.”

I feel the rumble of his soft laugh through his chest. “I would have liked to have seen that. I bet Marissa was ready to cut off his balls.”

“Oh, my God, yes. She was spitting fire.”

“She’s kind of terrifying, isn’t she?”

I laugh. “She really is. I’m so lucky to have her on my side.”

We sit there like that for several long minutes, just holding each other. I’d missed this so much. “So, what are you going to do now?” he finally asks. “About management.”

I pull back enough to peer up at his face. I know this is a touchy subject for him, my going back to work. And after everything he told me last night, I finally understand why. “I’m not sure,” I tell him. “Marissa is calling around. Dennis is making a huge fuss, threatening to sue, but my lawyers are pretty confident he doesn’t have a shot.”

Will studies me. “There’s something else,” he says slowly. “What are you leaving out?”

I fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt I slept in. “The lawyers took a look at my contract, too. Apparently, there’s some weird clauses in there. They think they might be able to get me out of it, if I want to try to find a new label.”

“Are you happy with your label?”

“Will, we don’t have to talk about this,” I say quickly. “I know it’s not your favorite topic.”

“Hey.” He cups my chin with his big palm, tilting my head back so I have to look at him. “I know you’re going to work eventually, Eva. I wouldn’t have come back if I couldn’t handle that.”

“But—”

“It’s your life, honey. I want to know about it. Want to help you make your decisions.” He sucks in a breath, steeling himself. “The worst thing about the way things went down with Skye is that she didn’t talk to me. She was always sneaking around, lying to me, keeping shit from me. It’s important to me that we talk to each other. I couldn’t handle if I felt that distance between us, you know?”

Once again, my heart melts for this man. I lean up to kiss him. “I don’t want distance either. I love you, Will.”

He breathes in deeply, like he’s trying to take in my scent. “I love you, too. Now tell me about your label.”

He listens while I try to sort my way through my feelings about the label that changed my life by signing me, how indebted to them I feel. At the same time, they pushed me in a direction I wasn’t crazy about, molding me into a bleached-blonde, dancing, sparkly-leotard-wearing pop star when that was never who I really was.

“So basically, I have no idea what I want to do,” I tell him. “And being without management is making it kind of hard to navigate, you know? I know so little about contracts and what labels might be interested or how the business part of this works.”

He nods, looking deep in thought. “You need someone who knows the industry front and back and also has your best interests at heart.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “So Marissa has been making calls, trying to find me a new manager, but that’s not really her wheel-house, either. Before me, she mostly worked with actors. She doesn’t have a ton of music industry contacts. And Luke is in the musical theater world, which is a totally different thing.”

Suddenly Will moves to the edge of the bed and stands, bringing me with him. “Get dressed,” he says, setting my feet on the floor. “I know just who we should talk to.”

* * *

Less than an hour later,Will pulls his truck to the curb in front of a sprawling brick house. Actually, house is too small a word for the massiveness of the building. I’d thought the lodge in Tennessee was big, but it has nothing on this place. Cash Ransome’s house is a freaking mansion.

“You grew up here?” I can’t help but gasp out.

Will gives me a sheepish look. “It’s over the top, I know. My dad’s kind of a show-off. And when Reed bought his house, Dad just had to make sure ours was bigger. Which is why we ended up in a ten-bedroom house—Reed’s has eight.”

I manage a laugh, even as I continue to gape at the house. It’s easy to forget what a big deal the Ransome family is when they’re all so down to earth.

Will hops out of the truck, coming around to open my door the way he always does, and helps me climb down. “Are you sure about this?” I ask him for at least the tenth time since he told me where we were going. After the way Will reacted to his little brother’s band, I’m having a hard time believing he actually wants to talk to his dad about my career. But when we get inside, I realize it isn’t just his dad—all three of his uncles are sitting in the living room, plus Levi, Haylee, and Will’s grandfather. I stop in the entryway, gaping at them.

“You really called in the cavalry, didn’t you?” I whisper.

Will grins at me. “As annoying as my family can sometimes be, there aren’t many people who know the industry better. They can help.”

It’s such a huge one eighty from where he’s been that I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it, but I allow him to pull me into the living room.

“Eva,” Cash says, standing. “It’s so good to see you again.” He surprises me by pulling me into a tight hug.

“You’ll get used to it,” Will says from behind us.

“Cash is a sappy bastard,” Reed calls from the couch.

“Huge hugger,” Daltrey adds, grinning. “It’s annoying as hell.”

In spite of their teasing, I’m more than a little touched by Cash Ransome’s welcome. And when he whispers, “thank you for giving him another chance,” into my ear, I have a hard time keeping from crying.

“What’s up, Will?” Lennon asks once we’ve taken our seats on the loveseat across from Will’s uncles.

“Eva fired her manager,” he says without preamble. “And her lawyers think they might be able to get her out of her current contract.”

Levi’s eyebrows go up. “That’s very unusual,” he says. “Recording contracts are notoriously difficult to break.”

Will nods. “Her PA is going to send the contracts over. I thought maybe your lawyers could take a look as well.” He looks over at me. “More importantly, Eva needs a new manager before she can even think about signing with anyone.” He glances around at the assembled family. “I was hoping you guys could help her with that.”

There’s a long stretch of silence, every face in the room wearing a matching expression of surprise. I have no idea what he told them to get them to agree to drop everything and meet with us, but they clearly hadn’t been expecting this.

“You…you want our help?” Reed finally asks, eyes wide.

Will makes eye-contact with him before nodding. “I do.” He swallows hard, the first sign that this might be difficult for him, but he barrels ahead. “Eva’s first manager was an asshole who was willing to jeopardize her health to get her back in a recording studio. He’s the only person she’s ever worked with.” His eyes meet mine. “She needs someone we can trust.” Then he looks back to his uncles, scanning each face before landing on his dad’s. “And there’s no one I trust more than the people in this room.”

There’s another long stretch of silence, and I’m pretty sure I see a few sets of wet eyes around the room. This is big, him coming to them. Him trusting them. I’m sure, to the very depths of my soul, that Will Ransome is in love with me. For him to trust his family to help me means a lot. And I can tell that everyone in this room understands that.

“Well,” Levi says, breaking the silence. “Let’s take a look at this contract then.” He turns to Will Sr., brow furrowing. “What about Kyle Hendricks? Is he still managing?”

Will’s grandfather looks thoughtful. “I think so. And Flight Risk hasn’t recorded an album in at least four years, so he might have some extra time on his hands.”

“There’s Miranda Grisham, too,” Levi says. “She might be a good fit.”

“See?” Will murmurs in my ear. “They know everyone.”

But his uncles and his dad still haven’t said a word. They’re all still staring at Will, like they can’t be sure he’s really there.

“Fuck,” Reed finally mutters, running a hand over his face. “I guess Cash isn’t the only sappy bastard in this family.”

“Damn, kid,” Daltrey laughs, but it sounds a little shaky. “You sure do know how to tug on the heartstrings, don’t you?”

Will rolls his eyes at their display of emotion, but I can see the fondness in his eyes. This is a big deal for him, too. “Get it all out,” he chides. “Have your little weep fest. Then we can get to work.”

Cash laughs. “We can definitely do that.”

“Hey,” Lennon cuts in suddenly. “You know who has a lot of free time on his hands?” He points at their father. “Dad makes a pretty damn good manager.”

Reed’s eyes narrow. “That’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“He’s tough, Eva,” Daltrey adds. “Strict as hell. But he’s damn good.”

Will Sr. laughs, shaking his head. “Pretty sure I’m too damn old to be managing anyone.” Then he looks at me. “But I promise we’ll find you someone.”

“And we’ll figure out the contract stuff, too,” Reed says, typing away on his phone. “I’ll get the lawyers on it now.”

“I…I…” I have no idea what to say. I look up at Will, calmed a little by his steady, warm eyes. I’ve never had much family before, and the way they’ve all agreed to step up to help me, just like that, is more than a little overwhelming.

Will gives me a little nod of encouragement and I take a deep breath, turning back to his family. “That would be really great. Thank you.”

“It’s our pleasure, Eva,” Cash says, and I know he really means it.

Will squeezes my hand before turning to his family, and, together, we get to work.