The Comeback (BWWM Interracial Romance Book 7) Read Online Free PDF Page A

material would get any better a reception than the old. If David didn’t like the new material, then Amber wasn’t sure what she would do.
    She brushed her hands over her clothes, straightening them. Amber smiled to herself wryly; Brenton had called her a few days after their lunch together, just to tell her how happy he had been to see her again. She was surprised to find herself agreeing. She had been happy to see him—happier than she would have ever thought she would be. She had called Cara afterwards to ask about their mutual friend. “I’m honestly pretty happy that you met him for lunch,” Cara had said. “He’s been so serious ever since Kelsey died.”
    Amber had pried—she had, in spite of feeling slightly guilty, asked about Kelsey, about the circumstances of Brenton’s wife’s death. “She’d been sick for a while,” Cara told her. “No one in the group is really completely sure what she was sick with—she started losing her health about six months after Felicity was born.” Cara had paused. “We all knew she was sick, but she was fighting it. Apparently, Brent couldn’t really get leave, or anything like that—you know how the military is. Anyway, Kelsey was sick for about six months when she was involved in a really just awful car accident. Died at the scene.”
    “Oh God, no wonder Brent is so haunted,” Amber had said, thinking about the situation from her friend’s perspective; he would blame himself, she had no doubt. Working all the time, unable to get leave to take care of his new daughter and help his wife possibly get back to health, and then she died—Amber knew she would blame herself.
    “That’s not even the half of it,” Cara had told her. “The worst part is that his in-laws hate him.”
    “What? They don’t blame him—”
    “Oh they totally do. It doesn’t help that they already didn’t like him or think he was nearly good enough for their precious daughter before she died. Now they’re fighting him constantly, and the word on the street is that they’re talking to lawyers to try and get custody of Felicity.”
    The idea of it was shocking to Amber—that the girl’s grandparents would try and steal their granddaughter from her father, when he was a perfectly good man. “Sounds like bitter, hurt, angry folks,” Amber had observed.
    Cara had agreed. “They’re keeping things mostly civil, but everyone knows they constantly give him a hard time. He’s getting along with them as best as he can, but it’s really only a matter of time.”
    The lunch with Brenton, and the conversation with Cara had stewed in Amber’s mind for days. She had sat down to her keyboard one morning after a night of troubled good-and-bad dreams, and started to press the keys in a slow, wandering melody. She wasn’t a great musician, but Amber had learned how to play a little piano over the years—it was a good tool for composing new songs. She couldn’t necessarily accompany herself live, but she could put together enough to record a very rough demo.
    Amber walked towards the unmarked door to the building where David Underhill waited inside, trying not to fidget as she got closer. Four different producers had rejected the work she had come up with since she had had her spectacular break with Kobe. The new material that she was bringing for the producer to listen to was different—but would it be any better than what she had already put forth? Amber didn’t know. Anymore she wondered if she would ever find success again. I put everything to the side to help Kobe get to where he is now, and not only did I lose him, but I have nothing to show for years of work. The thought that she had lost her career and her love both haunted Amber.
    The temperature in the building was easily ten or fifteen degrees cooler than the warm, humid Houston air. Amber stepped through the entryway and followed the hall around, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer light as she moved forward. There was a faint