"It's not for sale," Cam said simply.
"It… is it…" It couldn't be, he thought, while his heart thumped with nerves and hope and shock. But hope was paramount. In the past year he'd learned to hope. "Is it mine?"
"You're the only one with a birthday around here," Cam reminded him. "Don't you want a closer look?"
"It's mine?" He whispered it first, with such staggered delight and shock that Sybill felt her eyes sting. "
Mine?" He exploded with it as he whirled around. This time the sheer joy on his face closed her throat. "To keep?"
Inner Harbor
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By {{{1}}} - Flickr: 'Hands Across the Divide' sculpture, CC BY 2.0,
https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=19153395
Awe is an awfully complex emotion, conjuring feelings of reverence that can range from wonder to dread. It's a blend of fear and surprise, according to some definitions, although it often feels like more than the sum of those parts.
"Awe is an overwhelming and bewildering sense of connection with a startling universe that is usually far beyond the narrow band of our consciousness,"
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"Reed Valentine would like to schedule a meeting and arrange for a professional demo, in studio, in New York, when it suits you."
She couldn't feel her hands. Or her feet. She realized dizzily that all she could feel was the sudden, ferocious hammering of her heart.
"Reed Valentine? Valentine Records? A meeting? With me? Why?"
"Suddenly you're full of questions." With a laugh, he toasted her again. "Yes, Reed Valentine of Valentine Records wants a meeting with you because he was very favorably impressed with the tape you put together."
"You sent it in? You sent it to Reed Valentine."
"I told you I was going to send it to a connection of mine."
Valentine Records. Now she couldn't feel her own lips. But she could feel the abrupt lurch of her stomach. "I didn't expect—I never thought…"
"Didn't you think I meant it, Cat? I don't play games like that."
"No, I don't—God, I can't breathe." She pressed a hand to her chest as if to push out air, but couldn't find any. "I can't get my breath."
Alarmed, he reached for her. She'd gone dead white. "Hey. Sit down."
"No. Yes. No. I need some air."
She shoved the wineglass into his hand and bolted for the balcony doors. Her head was light, as if she'd swallowed the whole bottle of champagne in one gulp. She couldn't get her breath because the air was trapped somewhere under her diaphragm.
Duncan @ MacGregor Grooms