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able to make music again. "I don't know. We could ask ourselves
forever, but it wouldn't change." She drew back. "Dad. We have to set
it aside. Not forget, but set it aside."
"A new beginning?"
"G.o.d no." She smiled. "I wouldn't want to begin again. Not for
anything. Finally I know where I am and where I want to go. I don't
have to be afraid anymore. I don't have to wonder. And I can stop
blaming myself, because I didn't run this time."
"You were never to blame, Emma."
"None of us were. Come inside." She drew him into the light and the
warmth. In the silence, she walked to the television and switched it
on. "I want to hear them say your name."
As she watched the set, P.M. touched her arm. "Emma." Unable to find
the words, he brought her hand to his cheek.
"Here we go, mates." Johnno laid a hand on Brian's shoulder as the
nominees for Song of the Year were announced.
Emma held her breath, then let it out on a laugh when she heard Brian
McAvoy and Johnno Donovan. "Congratulations." She swung her arms around
both of them. "Oh, I wish I could have handed it to you."
"Next year," Johnno said, giving her a quick, hard kiss.
"It's a promise. It's important," she said, squeezing Brian's hand. "It
means something. Don't let what happened spoil this for you, or for
me."
"No." He relaxed, and when he smiled she watched it reach his eyes. He
threw an arm around Johnno's shoulder. "Not bad for a couple of aging
rockers."
"Mind your adjectives, Bri." Johnno winked at Emma. "Jagger's older."
He lifted a brow when he heard the knock on the door. "Ah, the call of
the gray-eyed, infatuated copper."
"Shut up, Johnno," Emma said pleasantly as she hurried to answer with
Conroy at her heels. "Michael."
"Sorry it took so long." He dragged on the dog's collar to keep him from
leaping. "Okay?"
"Sure." She leaned down, the beads of her evening dress glinting, to rub
between Conroy's ears. "We were just pa.s.sing out congratulations. Dad
and Johnno won Song of the Year."
"No, we were just leaving." Bev was already picking up her wrap. If
ever she'd seen a man who wanted to be alone with a woman, it was
Michael. "There's a pot of tea in the kitchen," she added, flicking a
glance over her shoulder to get the others moving. Before Emma could
protest, she pulled her close. "Time's too precious to waste," she
murmured. "Michael." She put her arms around him. "Thank you," she
said quietly. And pulling back, smiled. "Welcome to chaos."
They made their way out, one at a time, while a disinterested Conroy
sniffed around, then went to sleep in the corner.
"They're quite a group," Michael stated when the door finally closed.
"No pun intended."
"Yes, they are. You're not going to mind having dinner with the lot of
them tomorrow, are you?"
"No." He didn't give a hang about tomorrow. Only tonight. The way she
