Page 9 of Sing Your Secrets
“Ah. Where to?”
“Atlanta.” Where I could drown myself in R&B, hip-hop, the beautiful culmination of the two, and of course, all things Petey. “I told my mom I was pursuing a bachelor of science in music, but really, I was just there dicking around. It pissed my mom off to no end. We had a huge falling out.” I was making love and singing day in, and day out, thinking I’d found nirvana. I was Petey’s sounding board. His heart. His muse. I never planned on coming home.
“How did it work out with your guy?”
I shake my head. “You know how first loves go.” I flash him a small smile. “I dropped out and came home in the middle of my sophomore year. I had to beg my mom to take me back in. She helped me transfer to a reputable school in Denver and had me pick a degree that would set me up for law school. My mom even paid for my apartment. I mean, it was peanuts. I lived with Quinn,” I say holding up the annulment paperwork, “and a few more of my closest friends.”
Eli bobs his head. “That was nice of her.”
“Sort of. The condition was she’d help me get my life sorted out, and I was to leave everything about Atlanta behind. My ex. Chasing a career in music. All of it.”
Crossing his arms, Eli settles back into his office chair as his brows cinch in confusion. “That seems a little controlling, doesn’t it?”
“She’s a corporate lawyer, what do you expect?” I widen my eyes at him and he responds with half a chuckle. “In all honesty, I think it was a chip on her shoulder. She’s still bitter about my dad and his time in the industry. He was a record producer. A damn good one too. He’s credited on two Grammy wins.”
“Really?” He raises his eyebrows. “Anything I’ve heard?”
I know for a fact Eli is a Nickelback and Imagine Dragons lover. “I doubt it.” I genuinely love all genres. My dad has more singular tastes in music. Hip hop. R&B. Soulful. Sinful. And occasionally foul words and club beats.
“So, when did your parents get divorced?”
I shake my head so hard that my long curls whip me across the face. “They didn’t. They never married. My dad was in love with music. My mom was just his mistress. I think she was terrified I was headed down the same path. And if the jealousy wasn’t enough, my dad just got out of prison a month ago...DUI.”
Eli crinkles his forehead. “Prison for a DUI?”
“It was his third. He drove right into a parked car, downtown. Pretty much totaled it. Guess who’s car?”
“Whose?”
“The freaking assistant district attorney’s car.”
Eli blows out a pained breath. “Yikes.”
“Yeah.” I cringe as I exhale. I hate describing my dad this way. He made his bed, but there’s so much brilliance in Dad outside of his reckless, emotionally bad decisions. “Not a proud moment for us. Which is why my mom wanted me to follow in her footsteps, not my dad’s.”
“Doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”
I lock onto Eli’s light eyes. “I took the LSATs my junior year of college, hungover I might add. I told my mom I got a 158.”
“That’s not a bad score,” he says, cocking his head to the side, empathetically. “It took me two tries to break 160.”
“I lied, Eli.”
“Oh. Lower?”
“I scored a 174.”
“Damn.” His jaw actually drops. “You’d easily get into Yale or Harvard with that score.”
“Stanford,” I clarify. “I applied just for shits and giggles. I declined my early admittance and I never told my mom. It would’ve sealed my fate.”
He closes his eyes and nods again, finally understanding my long-winded story. “You’re smart, and have a knack for law, but you—”
“Hate it,” I finish for him. “Wait, that’s dramatic. I don’t hate it, it just isn’t what I want to do with my life. That’s why I shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. I think the version of me that you like,” I gesture up and down to my business romper and short heels, “won’t last forever. And it sounds like you’re looking for something long-term.”
Eli opens his mouth to say something but the knock, knock, knock at his door interrupts him.
“Yes?” he enunciates.