Cherished by Kim Cash Tate Page B

snapped back around, and she hoped he didn’t see her.
    â€œI love what you said, Ace,” Rita was saying. “Accountability, prayer, Bible—perfect ingredients for maintaining a right heart.” Her eyes lifted. “And lookie here, another good-looking single guy joining us. Come on up, Brian, or, uh, Alien.” Rita smiled. “Monica told me you might be coming. We saved you a seat at the front.”
    From the corner of her eye, Kelli saw him pass. He took his seat at the end of the row, and someone brought him a handheld microphone.
    â€œBrian, we’re calling this session ‘Heart of a Psalmist,’” Rita said, “and we’re sharing how we need to keep a right heart in this business, which can be a struggle. I don’t know how long you’ll be able to stay with us, so I’ll ask you now. Is this something you think about as an artist? Is it important for you to keep a right heart before God?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Brian said.
    He turned to face the people in the room, and Kelli’s heart reacted. The onstage Brian was a persona, someone she didn’t know, from whom she could distance herself. But seeing him this close and hearing his speaking voice had an altogether different effect. She remembered how much a part of her he’d once been.
    â€œI think about it all the time,” he said. “It’s a huge weight, trying to represent Jesus like I should, not just onstage, but always. I don’t want to be a fraud or a hypocrite. You know?”
    Really, Brian? Since when?
    â€œSo I’m constantly asking God to help me do the right things, make the right choices, be who He wants me to be.”
    Kelli’s arms started to shake, and she held herself.
    â€œOne of my favorite prayers is from Psalm 24: Lord, give me ‘clean hands and a pure heart.’”
    Kelli looked up now, her every fiber trained on him, and it was as if he sensed it. His eyes connected with hers, and she could tell he was stunned. She saw him lower his microphone—and it was the last thing she saw. Kelli scooped up her things and grabbed her bag, leaning over to Cyd. “I’m stepping out. I need to be alone for a little bit.”
    She wanted to hold it together long enough to get out of the room, but the walk up the aisle seemed an eternity. She got to the door finally and opened it. Then she stood on the other side . . . and cried.

nine
    I LOVE THAT PRAYER , B RIAN ,” M ONICA SAID . “A ND I have to tell y’all, he really is the same person onstage and off. I’m one of his biggest fans, and it’s mostly because he does have such a good heart.”
    Brian’s stomach was in knots. “Thanks, Monica. I appreciate that.” It was all he could do not to jump up and run out. He’d thought he was seeing things at first. But by the way she looked at him—and her quick departure—it was Kelli. If he missed this opportunity to talk to her, he’d go out of his mind. But he couldn’t just leave. How would it look? He’d just gotten here.
    â€œWe’ve gotten some excellent nuggets so far.” Rita acknowledged her panelists. “We’ll hear from Logan and Mallory, then we’ll open it up to questions.” She gestured to Logan. “You lead a choir and a praise and worship team each Sunday, and they often sing songs you’ve written. How do you maintain an authentic heart of worship week after week so it doesn’t become drudgery? And do you feel a responsibility to make sure your choir and worship teams do the same?”
    â€œIt can definitely start to feel like a job with all the related drudgery if I’m not careful . . .”
    I can’t do this . Not when Kelli’s out there .
    Brian walked over to Rita and leaned in, whispering, “I’m sorry. Something just came up, and I have to go. Can’t promise, but I might be able to make it back for a