After her father's tragic passing, Nora Davis is forced behind the scenes, nothing more than a stepping stone for others in their journey to stardom. When an opportunity presents itself, Nora, trapped under her stepmother's heel, takes it as her cha...
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"Nora, come here," Mallory called from behind her study door.
Nora's blood pressure immediately skyrocketed. She'd barely stepped in through the front door, and Mallory somehow knew she was there.
Best not leave her hanging. Nora thought and turned on her heel. The door was open a crack, the light from within casting a slim triangle of light onto the hardwood of the hallway.
Nora peeked her head in, "Yes?"
Mallory glanced over her gold-framed reading glasses, "I said come here."
Her palms were sweaty as she entered Mallory's study and closed the door behind her. She hated this room and everything it stood for. She never wanted to spend more time than absolutely necessary in this room.
"What is it?" She pushed up on the bridge of her own glasses.
Mallory held out a sheet of paper. At first, Nora simply stared at it, knowing what Mallory wanted. Nausea curled in her stomach, both from the room itself and the thought of helping Mallory. Again.
Her stepmother stared at her, an order clear in her gaze, and lifted a single dark eyebrow.
Pressing her lips into a firm line, Nora snagged the paper and looked down at the words scribbled on it. She sat down in that same teal chair her mother used to love and read words that made her want to tear her heart from her chest. Not because of what they said, but rather, because of Mallory.
When a moment passed, and then another, without comment from Nora, Mallory leaned back in her chair. "Are you even reading it?"
"Yes."
"And?"
I don't want to do this. I don't want to be here. "I'm thinking."
Mallory slapped a hand on the desk, "Nora Leigh, you better focus. I need a finished product by tomorrow morning and what's there right now is not going to cut it."
Exasperated, Nora grumbled, "I can't just flip it on command. That's not how art works!"
"You find a way to make it work," Mallory demanded. "And you come up with something right now. Or you're not leaving this room. You hear me?" Mallory got up, rounded her desk, and made her way out, slamming the study door behind her.
Nora wasn't normally an emotional person, but as she sat in her mother's chair and stared down at the horrid piece in front of her, all she could think about was the two songs she had to complete before the end of next week. And the recording she had to do. And the profiles to maintain. And how, somehow, in the middle of all of that, she somehow had to find the time to create a demo for Daxton Cavenaugh's contest.
She had to. This contest, if she won, could skyrocket her in the songwriting world. Anyone who was anyone in Sarias knew Daxton Cavenaugh. He was one of the kingdom's most up-and-coming song producer. Having someone like him approving her skills not only validated her dreams, but it meant she was worth something.
