Page 3 of Perfect Composition

Before something can happen to either of us.

PAIGE

CHAPTER ONE- TWENTY YEARS LATER

February

@BeckettMiller… you’re unbelievably awesome. And gorgeous. Ditch the blonde and marry me. I’d look good on the red carpet too! #beckettmiller #biggestfan #premier

—@LMozzo, Celebrity Fan

I’m sipping a lukewarm beer with my oldest brother after the Founders’ Day Celebration when my middle brother, Ethan, hooks his arm around my waist. He tips his longneck at the television over the bar and yells, “That’s going to be Austyn one day!”

“What is?” Immediately, he catches my attention when he mentions my daughter’s name.

“Walking down some red carpet in some sequined gown, trying not to trip all over her heels.”

I catch the long gown in question just as the artist drifts away and grin up at him. Shouting just to be heard over the noise at Rodeo Ralph’s, I reply, “Your niece wouldn’t be caught dead in something so sedate these days. Let me show you the pictures of what she wore…”

But even as my hand reaches for my phone, my voice falters because even above the crowd celebrating the founding of our town like it’s a national holiday, his face is right here.

In jumbo size.

Suffocating this room.

The closed-captioning at the bottom of the screen indicates his date for the evening is a new singer on the scene named Erzulie. And even though the volume is off, there’s no sound needed as the swarm of people go wild when he holds his hand back into the limousine to assist her out.

I blink slowly behind my glasses when the blonde emerges, her long legs encased in sequined boots. She barely looks to be a few years older than Austyn in her voluminous gown covered in floral appliqués.

He looks like a more mature version of the boy I gave my heart and soul to, even if his unbuttoned tuxedo shirt flashes skin now carrying ink from his collarbone down to his ribs—all from a life I never lived with him.

It’s only fair, I guess. Mine carries the scars from bearing the child he’s never acknowledged.

Jesse—Ethan’s and my oldest sibling—steps in front of me, blocking my personal nightmare—something few are privy to. “He doesn’t matter, Paigey.” His use of the nickname only close family and friends are allowed to use warms a gut that’s burning with a combination of alcohol and bitterness.

“Jesse’s right, sis,” Ethan insists.

I lift my drink to my lips, sucking back more ale and ignoring the huge elephant in the room as the glamorous couple makes their way up the red carpet to the movie premiere. “Think I could get another one of these?”

“Paige, there’s a guy I want you to meet. Good guy. New in town.”

I stubbornly refuse to meet my brother’s eyes, not even really hearing which one is trying to fix me up. Instead, I slide to the right to again get a better view of the big screen. The scrolling ticker at the bottom clearly indicates that at the Grammys next month, Beckett Miller is nominated for Album of the Year while his date, Erzulie, is nominated for Best New Artist.

“I hope you get everything you ever dreamed of, you lying bastard,” I whisper almost soundlessly. Finishing my beer, I turn my attention back to my concerned brothers. “I have a problem.”

“We can tell.” Ethan’s face is like the thundercloud that threatened the kids riding their bikes during the Founders’ Day Parade earlier today.

Jesse smacks him in the shoulder. “What do you need, Paigey?”

“Austyn called. She’s coming home from school.”

Both men relax. “For the weekend? That’s great news!” Jess enthuses.

I slap a patently sweet smile on my face. “So glad you think so. But you’re wrong. She’s leaving it.”

“Wait, why?” Ethan’s face becomes concerned.

“The semester’s only been back in session for a week. Nothing terrible could have happened. She’ll want to go back.” Jesse dismisses my daughter’s concern.