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here I could just talk to—”
    “Ah,” he grinned, looking past me at the doorway I’d come through.  “Good timing.  Here’s the department secretary.  She’ll get you all sorted out.”
    I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, a grey-haired lady in a business suit was walking towards us. 
    “So who are you?” I asked, my eyes narrowing at the guy who’d obviously been messing with me for the past few minutes. 
    He grinned.  “ I liked how you put it — I’m the Cheshire Cat.”  He turned to the woman, who was just in hearing range of the desk.  “Barb, take good care of this girl — she was just telling me she wanted to sign up for piano lessons.”
    He caught my eyes with a smirk as he walked off down the hall, in the same direction that the woman had come from. 
    I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at his back as he left.
    “Of course, dear, let me see.  Piano lessons, hmmm…”
    I sighed, and turned back to the woman.  “Sorry, He must have gotten confused.  Not piano.  I want to learn the guitar.”

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    That night of the show, the cold was so brutal that it felt like it hit your bones.  Every cab in the city was taken, and the unheated subway tunnels didn’t provide much protection.  I was bundled up in a huge jacket, with my cute jeans and tee shirt underneath for once I got to the venue. 
    It was a night to curl up with a book and a fire.  The exact opposite of what I planned to do.
    Before I’d left, I’d told Darby where I was going.  I didn’t have much of a choice — as soon as she saw me putting on makeup, she knew something had to be up.  I didn’t want to jinx the plan, so I just told her I was going to see Liv’s band again.
    “Is Blake going to be there?” She ’d asked, looking a little nervous for the answer.  I hadn’t said much about Blake since getting back from California, but it was pretty much impossible to hide the fact that he wasn’t speaking to me.  Even from a roommate who hadn’t been speaking to me either.
    “I think so,” I’d told her, feeling my stomach contract with nerves.  I felt the way I had months ago, when the idea of talking to Blake Parker was more than I could have dreamed about.
    “Well,” she’d smiled at me, looking appraisingly over my outfit.  “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do?”
    I tried not to laugh — the icy silence between us seemed to have thawed, at least for the moment.  For a second, I even considered inviting her along.
    There were a few people clustered outside the door as I walked up, tilting my head down so that no one would recognize me.  I didn’t see any photographers, but there was always the chance that someone would get wind of Blake playing with Liv’s band and show up to cover it.  I hoped we could keep everything under wraps — the surest way to scare Blake away was to turn this into a paparazzi event.
    Opening up the door , I peeled off my coat almost instantly — there were enough people inside that the room was already warm, and I stood on my tiptoes to look around. 
    My first instinct was to look for Liv, but I knew she’d probably be getting Blake prepped until the moment they went onstage. 
    I didn’t want to surprise him with my presence until the absolute last minute possible — mostly to ensure that he didn’t turn around and leave.
    So until then, I had to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.  I looked towards the bar, so that my face was away from the rest of the club and mostly hidden by my jacket.  When the guy behind the bar finally noticed me, I ordered a diet coke. 
    The bartender looked at me skeptically.  “You want rum in that?”
    No, I definitely did not.  I wanted to keep my mind as sharp as possible.  “Just plain,” I said, resisting the urge to tell him I was pregnant or an alcoholic, just for fun.  Those were the stories that made it to the tabloids, I was learning, no matter how utterly false they