Kate had toasted when it was expected of her, smiling purposely and reliving every moment through Tully’s chatter. She’d been proud of herself, truly she had, and she’d loved doing the piece and celebrating with her parents. It had been especially poignant when Mom took her aside and said, “I’m proud of you, Katie. You’re on your way now. Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up?”

But all the while, a part of her was watching the clock, thinking how slowly time was moving.

“You look terrible,” Tully said the next day, dropping a stack of tapes on Kate’s desk.

The clattering sound startled Kate. She realized she’d been staring at the clock again. “Yeah, well, your singing sucks.”

Tully laughed at that. “Everyone has something they can’t do.” She put her palms on Kate’s desk and leaned forward. “Chad and I are going to the Backstage tonight. Junior Cadillac is playing. You want to come?”

“Not tonight.”

Tully eyed her. “What in the hell is wrong with you? You’ve been moping around for more than a week. I know you’re not sleeping—I hear you up walking around in the middle of the night—and you won’t go anywhere. It’s like living with the Elephant Man.”

Kate couldn’t help glancing at Johnny’s door and then up at her friend. Longing welled up inside her, sharp and strong; if only she could tell Tully the truth: that she’d accidentally fallen in love with Johnny and now she was worried about him. It would take such a load off of her. In ten years, this was the first thing she’d ever hidden from Tully and it physically hurt to conceal it.

But her feelings for Johnny were so fragile; she knew that Tropical Storm Tully would rain all over them, ruin them.

“I’m just tired,” she said. “This producing is hard work. That’s all.”

“But you love it, don’t you?”

“Sure. It’s great. Now go on, meet Chad. I’ll close up.” After Tully left, Kate lingered in the dark, quiet office. The strange thing was, she liked being here; she felt close to him.

“You’re an idiot,” she said aloud. Truthfully, she said it to herself at least twice a day lately. She was acting like—felt like—a left-behind lover, but it was all in her imagination. At least she wasn’t so far gone that she’d forgotten that.