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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After spending a few hours at Dreame, Nora caught a late bus back home. Although hardly past 7 pm, stars dotted the sky. Nora's boots crunched on the small patches of ice on the concrete sidewalk as she made her way back towards her house. A wayward rush of wind curled along her chin and burrowed itself down into her shirt. She shivered, the night air nipping at her cheekbones. Ducking her head, she walked faster.
Just a few more blocks.
Nora had a lot of work in front of her. She had collected all the pieces; the research completed. Now she needed to go through it all, organize it, arrange it—similar to how she would a song.
The artists would be easy enough to take down. She simply would stop writing for them. Mallory couldn't take any pieces Nora didn't give out. And without more work, even if all else failed, the artists and Felicity would slow their trek on the charts.
It wasn't a foolproof plan. Nor was it an instantaneous victory. Right now, her plans only included ruining Mallory's reputation. And at this point, Nora wasn't sure that would be enough.
Because...then what? Where did that put Nora?
Walking past the orange glow of a streetlight, Nora turned the corner and strolled to her driveway. There, parked along the tall bushes on the street, a black SUV idled.
The hair on the back of her neck stood straight. She slowed as the door opened.
Her brain told her to run straight to her door, to make a break for it, and not look back. A dark car on the street at night? Idling? She'd seen enough thriller movies to know the signs all pointed to trouble.
She pivoted and took a step back. If she ran around the block, she could always hop the neighbor's fence and run in—
"Nora?"
All the tension left her body in one fell exhale. Nora put a hand to her chest, "oh my Creator, Eli. You scared the—"
Eli swallowed her into a hug. "Thank Creator you're okay."
Her heart thundered as Eli's cologne swallowed her whole. Eli Leonger was hugging her. Her! Despite the chill that'd worked its way into her coat and down to her bones, Eli was so warm. The kind of cozy comfort that settled her soul. She wanted to sink into that warmth. To hold it close—hold him close—and never let go.
Her fingers curled into the back of his jacket.
Then her brain clicked back on. She stepped back. "What are you doing here?" The wind played with Eli's dark hair. "And where's your hat? Your ears will get cold—"
"You lost your scholarship," Eli said. His gaze, intent in its worry, darted from her left eye to her right.
