Jude’s Song (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 7) Read online

  Contents

  Jude's Song

  Copyright

  Hidden Beauty Series

  Hidden Hearts Series

  Dedication

  Chapter One Tasha

  Chapter Two Jude

  Chapter Three Tasha

  Chapter Four Jude

  Chapter Five Tasha

  Chapter Six Jude

  Chapter Seven Tasha

  Chapter Eight Jude

  Chapter Nine Tasha

  Chapter Ten Jude

  Chapter Eleven Tasha

  Chapter Twelve Jude

  Chapter Thirteen Tasha

  Chapter Fourteen Jude

  Chapter Fifteen Tasha

  Chapter Sixteen Jude

  Chapter Seventeen Tasha

  Chapter Eighteen Jude

  Chapter Nineteen Tasha

  Chapter Twenty Jude

  Chapter Twenty-One Tasha

  Chapter Twenty-Two Jude

  Chapter Twenty-Three Tasha

  Epilogue Jude

  Acknowledgements

  Other Works

  Bonus Material

  Preview of Paths Not Taken

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Jordan

  Chapter 2: Cristiano

  Preview of Love Claimed

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: Donda

  Chapter 2: Jaxson

  About the Author

  A Final Note

  COPYRIGHT

  © 2017 Mary Crawford. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its publisher, Mary Crawford and Diversity Ink Press. Copyright protection extends to all excerpts and previews by this author included in this book.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. The author or publisher is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published on March 28, 2017, by Diversity Ink Press and Mary Crawford. Author may be reached at MaryCrawfordAuthor.com.

  ISBN-10:1-945637-07-2 • ISBN-13: 978-1-945637-07-0

  • ASIN: B06VTPFRWK

  HIDDEN BEAUTY SERIES

  Until the Stars Fall from the Sky

  So the Heart Can Dance

  Joy and Tiers

  Love Naturally

  Love Seasoned

  Love Claimed

  Jude's Song

  Paths Not Taken

  Heart Wish (100% charity release)

  Related novellas:

  If You Knew Me (and other silent musings)

  The Price of Freedom

  Dreams Change (upcoming release)

  HIDDEN HEARTS SERIES

  Identity of the Heart

  Sheltered Hearts

  Hearts of Jade

  Love is More Than Skin Deep

  Tough

  Rectify

  Pieces

  Hearts Set Free

  Related novella: Port in the Storm

  Other Works:

  Vision of the Heart

  #AmWriting: A Collection of Letters to Benefit The Wayne Foundation

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to

  anyone who has had their

  dreams interrupted by life.

  Keep going because you don’t know

  how the song will end.

  This novel is also dedicated to the

  phenomenal medical personnel at

  St. Jude’s Hospital.

  Every day they make it possible for

  the dreams of someone’s child to continue

  for yet another day.

  CHAPTER ONE

  TASHA

  AS I BRING THE LAST note to a close and draw in a deep breath, a low, slow clap breaks my concentration and brings me back to earth.

  “Tasha, I swear you get stronger every time you sing. I thought you were good back in the days of ‘the show which shall not be mentioned,’ but you’re even better now. Are you sure you don’t want to extend this tour? We work well together. We could do a whole album, you know, something like Live from the Road,” Aidan O’Brien offers.

  Before I can answer him, my phone rings for about the seven billionth time. I look up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to leave it on because my grandma is in the hospital. Otherwise I’d just chuck the whole thing. It’s driving me nuts.”

  “No worries. I’ve been there. If it gets too bad, I’ll shut off my cochlear implants. I’ve got label business to do anyway.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I reply as I blush.

  “Give me a shout when you’re ready to start up again.” Aidan gets off his stool and walks toward his office.

  “Sometimes I wish I had the luxury to turn off my ears,” I mutter under my breath as my phone rings again.

  I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for what’s coming. Reluctantly, I answer the phone. “Hi, Ma.”

  “Princess, I’ve been calling for hours and hours. Do you know how long you took to answer the phone? Your grandmother could have died!”

  “I’m trying to work here; I told you I had to rehearse today. Is Nana okay?”

  “Of course she’s okay. I was calling to tell you that These Jagged Wounds is falling back down the charts. It only made it up to one hundred and ten. I thought you said Mr. O’Brien told you he was sure it would break into the Top 100. I don’t know if you should be hanging out with the likes of him. After all, he turned his back on Five-Star after all they did for him. I think being associated with him is bad for your career, but you never listen.”

  “Ma! Listen to yourself. If it weren’t for Aidan, I wouldn’t be on the charts at all. I’d still be singing in the lounge at the Hotel 6 and working weddings and bat mitzvahs on the weekends.”

  “Princess, that’s not true. You were born to be on the stage. You’ve been competing in pageants since before you could walk. You’ve been singing and dancing your little heart out for decades,” my mom argues. “If anything, he’s lucky to have you to bolster his career. He’s getting a little old and stale. He needs to freshen up his act. Who listens to piano players these days? It’s a dying art — his demographic is people in nursing homes. I think you need to dump him and get someone more hip.” My mom talks as if she’s in charge of my career like some master puppeteer. The reality is, she’s not. She wants to be, but my dad took care of that before he left.

  “I hate to interrupt this philosophical discussion about Aidan’s career, but our practice time is limited before we have to go out on tour. Does this phone call have a point, besides making me feel bad?”

  “That’s the other thing,” my mom continues, clearly on a roll. “What man in his right mind goes out on tour with a girl who is barely out of a training bra? What does his wife think of all this?”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake! Mother, as you so aptly point out, I am a professional. Aidan is, too. He and his family have been around show business forever. As far as his wife being okay with me being here, you can ask her about it when we come into town on our tour stop. She’ll be with us, along with Aidan’s niece Mindy. I can’t believe you don’t trust me to do my job. Speaking of that, Ma, I gotta get back to work. Don’t worry. You might not have to worry
about it too much longer. I’ve got other irons in the fire.”

  “Princess, what do you mean?” my mom sputters.

  “Ma, I haven’t done a pageant in years. You don’t need to call me that. I told you years ago I wasn’t interested in all that stuff.” I roll my eyes. “I’ll explain the rest of it later. Bye Ma, give Nana a kiss for me.”

  I hate it when my mom calls for no apparent reason. Well, she did have a reason — the same one as always. She called to let me know I’m never good enough. My dance moves are never crisp enough. I never hold the notes long enough. I never smile pretty enough. My hair is never teased enough. My skin is never smooth enough … The list is endless.

  Stupid me. I thought if I was able to work with Aidan and he could show me the ropes, the criticism would stop. Yet somehow, it’s more intense. Making Billboard’s Top 200 isn’t enough. Now I have to break into the Top 100 — or better yet hit the very top. It’s stupid crazy. Is it wrong of me to want to have a normal life? I mean, I never even went to regular school. My mom was so busy trying to turn me into a star, she forgot to let me live.

  Okay, there were those three years when I was little. I was fighting for my life, but I barely remember that time. I had leukemia as a kid, and I guess I almost died. My parents took me to St. Jude’s Hospital. Ma says God saved me for a purpose and my destiny is to be on stage. She’s been pushing me to be a professional singer ever since I could utter a word. She even has an old VHS tape of me in the hospital singing for the doctors and nurses all hooked up to my IV poles and everything — can I tell you I looked pathetic with a bald little head? I looked like a Q-tip … a really sad, skinny cotton swab. I’m fine now, and my mom needs to get over it. I’m fine and I’m not a baby. I’m nineteen. I want to have my life back.

  I go back to a dark corner backstage and find a heavy-duty chair. Sticking my headphones in, I do what I always do when I’m stressed. I place my leg on the back of the chair and perform some basic stretches. I locate an open area on the floor, find a focal spot, and start to spin.

  I’m startled when I catch Aidan’s wife Tara mirroring me from the corner of my eye. When I wind down my pirouette, Tara lets out a laugh of pure joy as she says, “Wow, I haven’t done that in a while. It’s fun to just let loose and spin. Let’s not mention that to Aidan, okay?”

  “Why not?” I ask, feeling a little lost.

  “Oh, we’re still doing the fertility meds and my ovaries are about the size of watermelons. I’m supposed to be taking it easy, but that was too much fun to resist.” Tara shrugs.

  “I suppose so,” I concede. “It’s my stress release.”

  “Is my husband treating you okay? He’s not picking on you, is he?”

  “Oh, Gosh no!” I exclaim, horrified she’d believe that. “He’s been nothing but patient with all the craziness in my life.”

  Tara walks over to her backpack and hands me some Skittles and Starbursts. “What’s going on?”

  I cringe when she asks me a direct question because I don’t know if I’m ready to have this conversation. On the other hand, I don’t want to lie to her.

  I sigh. “Let’s just say it’s difficult to meet all my mother’s expectations. We have very different ideas about what makes me happy.”

  Tara looks thoughtful. She sits quietly and studies me for a moment before she replies. “The path you forge for yourself is going to make you feel the strongest.”

  “That’s what I think! How do I choose without crushing everyone else’s dreams around me? My mom has me committed to engagements until I’m, like, thirty-five. She’s living her dreams through me. It seems almost cruel for me to change the plan.”

  “You know, you should really talk to Aidan’s brother Rory about this. This was his life for many years until Mother Nature threw him a curve ball. In fact, in some ways, it’s been Aidan’s story too. You know how he sometimes plays classical music on the piano? That was supposed to be his destiny as a child. When meningitis struck, he was thrown off one life path and onto another. I toured with Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien for a long time, and from what I’ve overheard of your conversations with your mother, she sounds an awful lot like the O’Briens were back in the day.”

  “Really? Mrs. O. brought us cookies the other day. She wasn’t anything like my mom. My mom resembles those bizarre stage moms you see on TV. If those reality shows would’ve been on TV when I was young, my mom would’ve signed me up for every single one of them. Aidan seems totally chill around his mom. I’m a nervous wreck every time my mom is around. She makes me forget my name.”

  Tara laughs softly as she recalls, “You know, it wasn’t always this laid-back between them. Mrs. O. used to be a fire-breathing dragon when it came to her kids. Especially Rory — he was the golden child she expected to be the shining star of the family. He was supposed to take the dance world by storm. Aidan was an afterthought who happened to play the piano, and I was merely along for the ride.”

  “So what changed her attitude?” I ask as curiosity gets the best of me. I doubt anything will change my mother, but maybe there’s hope out there somewhere.

  Tara looks lost in thought for a moment before she answers. “Mostly, I think it was time. Time and some unfortunate life circumstances.” She chuckles softly before continuing, “I don’t think grandkids hurt anything, either. They have a way of softening hard edges and putting things in perspective.”

  I know she didn’t mean to, but Tara’s words are like an arrow to my heart.

  Tara reaches out and grabs my hand. “Tasha, I’m sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I’m tired and I wasn’t paying any attention to what I was saying.”

  “How did you even know? I didn’t even say anything to you,” I whisper.

  Tara shrugs as she replies, “I’m weird that way. Before you draw any conclusions, get some more current information. The science of fertility has changed a lot since the doctors gave your mom the news when you were treated for your leukemia.”

  I have to pick my jaw up off the ground. I have no idea how she would even know any of that stuff. I’ve never told a single soul. I mean, who would I tell? I don’t even have a boyfriend — I haven’t had time for relationships. Heck, I don’t have time for a life.

  “You’re a little scary,” I blurt. Immediately, I regret my words when I realize how disrespectful they sound. This is my boss’s wife, after all.

  I am completely blown away when Tara throws her head back and laughs. When she sees my look of abject horror, she pats me on my shoulder. “Relax, you aren’t the first person or even the hundredth person to tell me that. Sometimes I freak myself out. I don’t know how I know the stuff I know. I just do.”

  I look at her with skepticism. “You can tell everybody’s future and all that crap — like those people at the fair with a crystal ball?”

  Tara smiles, but it doesn’t go all the way to her eyes. “It’s funny you should mention that — because at one point, I used to do that schtick. When I worked at the carnivals, I never used my true gift. We followed scripts when giving readings.” Tara pauses for a moment and then amends her answer. “Honestly, I added the truth every once in a while — but only if I thought it was a matter of life and death.”

  I tumble that idea around in my brain for a couple of moments as I remember all of my follow-up visits at St. Jude’s Hospital over the years and all the sick kids I met at summer camp. Any way I look at the picture, the result is the same. No wonder it sometimes looks as if Tara has the weight of the world on her shoulders; it must feel as if she does. “Wow! That is an epic amount of responsibility.” I don't know whether she’s performing some sort of parlor trick or she really can tell the future. Truth be told, I’m a little afraid to find out. “Do you get tired of knowing what’s going to happen to people?”

  Tara sighs softly. “Sometimes. There are times I wish my gift had an off switch.”

  I can see the distress on her face, so I quietly reply, “I’ll do my best not to put you on the sp
ot or in the middle as I make my decisions.”

  “Tasha, as much as I appreciate that, in this case, it sounds like you’ve already made your decision. I have to be honest with you, I know it will break my husband’s heart a little when he finds out what you need to do. I think in the end he’ll be supportive. He’s been in your shoes.”

  “Do you think he’ll hate me?” I ask with more emotion than I’m comfortable revealing.

  “No, Tasha … I don’t. I think he will miss you though. He genuinely likes you. You were supportive of him when many people were not. To him, that means the world.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  JUDE

  SOME PEOPLE HAVE ALL THE luck in the world and throw it all away. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What is she thinking? I know I’m just the equipment monkey, but I’ve been doing this a few years and I’ve heard lots of people. I’ve heard some greats like Aidan and I’ve heard some people who should never, I mean never sing — not even in the shower.

  I’m not even sure how some of these folks make it to the big stage. I don’t know if it’s money, influence, sheer determination or stupidity — but a lot of them don’t have enough talent to bleed through a Band-Aid, let alone bring folks into an auditorium. That’s not the case with Tasha. Her voice makes you stop and take notice. Tasha’s voice is sexy without trying. Lord knows, I think about it far too much.

  Right now, her voice is driving me loco. I heard Aidan offer her a shot at a live album today. If I understood the conversation I just overheard, she’s going to turn him down. Who in their right mind does that? Did she forget she was talking to Aidan O’Brien? A live album with Aidan O’Brien — the man is at the top of the charts. He’s prepared to hand her a golden ticket to fame. What the frick? It must be nice to have your life in such order you can stand to pass up the opportunity of a lifetime to go chase another. It’s total craziness. I’ve been busting my butt since I was fifteen years old. I’ve been chasing garage bands around moving equipment here and there and freakin’ everywhere trying to get a small crack at a break.