Between classes, recording, and performing, she rarely had a chance to breathe. Her life spiraled out of control while her heart plummeted to hell. Marcus teased her about her determination to finish her master’s degree. “Love, enjoy this. You can always go back to school.” “Leave her alone,” Julian retorted. “If I had a day job, I’d keep it too.” She ignored them. All of them—especially Brent. His new songs were soulful, beautiful. In her weaker moments, she allowed herself to hope, foolishly, that she might have inspired some of the music. Surely Early Morning Loving was a reference to her one experience with Brent. In my dreams. Of course the song wasn’t about her. She meant nothing to him. She complained to Darson after the recording sessions. “Fool that I am, I’d hoped he was just scared, prayed he might really care about me. Not a chance. He isn’t exactly distant with me, he’s polite.” “Oh, honey.” Her pal sounded genuinely distressed. “Polite is the kiss of death.
