She returned to her seat to wait for Brennan’s performance and stress about Hadley and Garrett. Amy and Hannah continued to act as if her appearance at their table was of little importance, and right now, Devon was happy for the reprieve. She had too many other things on her mind.
Coming to Chicago to escape her life in St. Louis wasn’t working out exactly as she had planned. Not that anything ever did. Not that she had really planned it out to begin with.
Hadley was supposed to help ground her. Garrett wasn’t supposed to take her place. Devon didn’t want to be more comfortable with him than Hadley. Brennan wasn’t supposed to be so appealing. She had too much to work out in her life without dealing with the intruding thought of Brennan’s lips against hers again. She couldn’t do that…not with everything else.
“I think he’s next,” Amy squealed.
Devon glanced over at them and noticed what she hadn’t seen before. They liked Brennan. She hadn’t paid any attention at work, but it was pretty obvious now that she was looking for it. Maybe they had heard about how she had gotten the job at Jenn’s and that was why they didn’t like her. They must think she was competition. It would explain a lot.
Well, if that was what they thought, they were wrong. After Devon had turned down Brennan, she couldn’t fathom him trying again. She had made it clear that she was off-limits. Even if he wanted to cross those lines, she wasn’t sure he would act on it again.
Ugh! She couldn’t even think about it all. It just made her head hurt.
Devon placed her palm on her forehead and tried to massage out the growing ache in her head.
“You feeling alright, Dev?”
As Devon’s head flew up in surprise, she found Garrett standing over her. “Garrett! You’re here!”
“Yeah, sorry about being so late,” he said.
She looked around, wondering where Hadley was. Was she still in the restroom? Was Devon a bad friend for not following after her? Devon hadn’t felt like it was her place to step in. Garrett and Hadley didn’t know that she had seen their argument, and they probably didn’t want her to know about it. Still, maybe she could go check on Hadley.
“Where’s Hadley?” Devon asked, knowing the answer.
If she wasn’t with him, then he had left her in the restroom.
I guess it is just going to be a guilt-ridden night, Devon thought.
Garrett took the seat Brennan had left unoccupied. “Oh, she really, really wanted to come, but she’s sick tonight. I couldn’t even drag her out of the house. Are you okay? I hope you don’t have the same thing that she has.”
Devon stared at him blankly. He was lying. He was looking her in the face, straight in the face, and lying. And he was damn good at it. She couldn’t even tell. She knew he was lying, and she couldn’t even tell that he was. He actually made her doubt what she had seen with her own two eyes earlier.
“Wha…what’s wrong with her?” Devon asked in disbelief.
“Headaches, body aches, exhaustion. She has been really moody all week, so it could just be PMS,” he said with a shrug.
PMS? He was really going to use that. Hadley had just slapped him across the face, and he was going to blame her behavior on PMS. Yeah right!
It’s more likely the amount of cocaine she is using, Devon thought.
“That sucks,” Devon said finally.
“Yeah, she really wanted to come,” he repeated.
“I’m surprised you came out at all if she wasn’t feeling well,” Devon said accusingly. Why wasn’t he chasing after her? Why was he letting her go? Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? She felt deluded about Garrett and Hadley’s relationship. She had wanted so badly for it to be as perfect as it looked from the outside.
“She told me to go. After all, I couldn’t do anything for her,” Garrett said. He leaned back into the chair, his ankle crossing over his knee.
“Of course,” Devon said, trying to hold back the sarcasm from her voice. “I sure hope she gets better soon.”
“Comes once a month. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Garrett said over the applause from the last performer.
Devon rolled her eyes and looked toward the stage. Garrett wasn’t going to give any clues as to what had happened between them. She would have to ask him later, or maybe she would have to ask Hadley. Hadley had been the one who was pissed off, so she might be more likely to spill. For all the confidence that Devon and Garrett had been entrusting each other with, she wasn’t so sure he would tell her, but maybe she would ask him about it again later anyway.
Her eyes focused in on Brennan as he walked onto the stage, carrying an acoustic guitar. Her body tensed as she stared down at him. She could hear murmurs coming from the women in the audience as he plugged in his guitar, adjusted the microphone, and sat down on the chair. Everyone was noticing what Devon had just realized moments ago. He looked great up there. He had taken off the blue button-up that he had arrived in, and now, he was just wearing a fitted green T-shirt with his dark jeans.
If she didn’t know him better, she would have thought he was completely comfortable up there. But his hands twitched as he plucked at a chord, and she watched his lips move as he muttered to himself. He had an easy, lazy look to him that helped him appear more relaxed than he was. She wished she could do something to calm his nerves.
After Brennan finished his adjustments, he leaned forward toward the microphone. “Good evening. I’m Brennan Walker. A couple of you out there might have seen me up here before. I’m sure a few of you booed me off stage the first time I tried this. Thanks for coming back and giving me another shot.”
The crowd chuckled. That was a good sign. Devon found herself rooting for him.
“For those of you who are new to the open mic routine, you picked a damn good night to be in the house. I’m playing a selection of original tunes, and I hope you like them. This first one is titled ‘Headstrong.’”
Devon wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but whatever it was could never compare to this. She knew music. She had grown up around music, dated musicians, and listened to every genre imaginable. Her heart craved music. And that was exactly what she was getting tonight.
Brennan’s voice wasn’t the best out there. He wasn’t a master on the guitar. He didn’t have the stage presence of the artists she had encountered at home. But he had a certain quality about him that seemed superior to all of that. It was like when she had tried to tease apart her feelings toward him, and all she had discovered was that she couldn’t. That was what his music was like. It was more an emotion than anything, like the way she felt when she got butterflies in her stomach, or when she rode a roller coaster, or when she caught the first glimpse of the horizon across the ocean. It was all and none of those things.
And maybe she was the only one in the room feeling that. But wasn’t that what made art so beautiful in the first place? She could stand in one place and experience the same thing as a hundred other people, and everyone would come out of it with something different. She felt like she was soaring, and the world was flying beneath her feet. Brennan’s smooth voice was music to her ears, and music brought her home.
When the song ended, Devon realized her eyes were closed, and she slowly opened them. As her vision adjusted to the dim lighting, she focused down on Brennan.