Music City Dreamers Page 10

  She didn’t put words to her concern because she wanted him to feel she believed in him. Asking if he was up for it was the same as telling him that she thought he wasn’t. “You’re changing, yeah?” She pointed at the tomato stain on his T-shirt from the leftover enchiladas they’d eaten for lunch. She hadn’t told him that when she was warming them up, she’d accidentally tipped the tray onto the floor and had to spatula them up from the kitchen linoleum and pretty it up with some spinach leaves. That was one of the best things about enchiladas: they were such a messy meal that presentation wasn’t a key issue. She’d only found one hair in hers, and Gabe had barely taken a breath between bites so the floor time hadn’t affected the taste.

  Gabe pulled his T-shirt away from his chest and inspected it. “Damn. This is my lucky shirt.”

  “You want to show up to meet Donny Taylor, the potential future of your recording career, with enchilada sauce all over your chest just because it’s your lucky shirt?”

  “No?”

  Louie raised an eyebrow. “No.”

  He laughed. “I was kidding.” He pushed away from the doorframe and walked away whistling the final song they’d worked on, “Music City Dreamers.” While the other two were personal to Gabe, this one was both of their stories and could be applicable to any performer or writer who wanted to burn bright in Nashville’s sky.

  Louie placed her guitar on the bed, opened its case, and laid it in as carefully as she might lay Heather on the bed if she got the chance. She clicked the metal catches closed and went to the dresser. She retrieved a couple of picks and shoved them into her pocket. She closed her eyes and saw the music for their songs scribed on the sunset orange backdrop of her eyelids. It wasn’t a trick she’d affected. Whatever it was and however it had come about, she liked it. It made sheet music redundant…or at least it did until someone else wanted to perform her songs. She bit her lip and looked in the mirror. Could she be this lucky? She’d been in town less than a week and tonight, she’d be in front of one of the biggest studios on the Row. This was Gabe’s audition and she respected that, but if it meant a little exposure for her too, it was a win-win for both of them.

  Figuring she needed to look her best, she opened the drawer and pulled out her favorite shirt. She’d found it in a custom boutique in Boystown, and it featured the head of a woman through a ship’s wheel with waves crashing around her. She was smoking a pipe, had neck tattoos, and wore a beanie. Maybe it was too much. She was about to choose something else when she realized what she was doing. Compromising and hiding herself, something she promised her mom she wouldn’t do, no matter the opportunity. No matter the woman? How much compromise would Heather need from her?

  Louie recited her mom’s mantra to herself in the mirror. “Be who you are, all of who you are.”

  She stripped off her tank and pulled on a bralette and her original choice shirt. Louie was a behind-the-scenes writer and had no desire to be on stage. She was under no illusion that the average God-fearing country music fan was ready to see someone like her leading the band for Gabe. She picked up her hair product, popped the lid, and squeezed some fiber cream onto her fingers before working it through her hair to sculpt her standard two-inch quiff. It took three times the regular amount to fix, and she held back curses. It’d been a while since her last visit to the barber, and now all of it was too long and out of control. She used more to work some shine into the high fades on the sides and back of her head, and as she replaced the lid, she decided she’d ask Gabe where he had his hair done. His textured crop and sharp fade lines had made her jealous of his hair since they’d met.

  Louie wiped her hands on a washcloth and applied a fine black pencil to the inner lash line of both eyes. It had been her only concession to makeup since Mia had told her it made her eyes pop. The phrase sounded pretty gross at the time, but enough people had commented on her eyes that evening that Louie believed her, and a new habit was born. But only for special occasions, and this was one. She didn’t know if Heather would be there tonight. She could only hope that she would and that her preparation wouldn’t go to waste. She thought about Mia on stage at the Bluebird, looking like she belonged, like she’d found her place in the world. Without me. Seeing Mia again had dredged up so many unwanted emotions, things she thought she’d cremated so they might never rise again.

  Five years together clearly hadn’t been obliterated in the year since Mia had left. Whatever was happening, Louie knew she’d need to find a way to deal with it. She thought she’d moved on and she wanted to move on. Louie wanted to be emotionally available to someone new, someone like Heather. And while deep down, she believed that Heather wouldn’t be interested in the gutter rat she was right now, maybe if she could become the songwriter she wanted to be, Heather just might stick around. Mia had destroyed her heart a year ago, but Louie needed to believe in love again. Sometimes things had to be destroyed to rebuild them stronger.

  She selected her favorite scent from the collection of bottles on the dresser top and sprayed it on her neck and wrists, before pulling up her shirt and applying a quick burst to her stomach. She tucked the front of her shirt into her jeans and pulled the rest of the hem over her belt.

  “You didn’t need to make such an effort on my account,” Gabe said after whistling his approval.

  “It’s not for you, asshole. And why are you creeping around like some silent spy guy?”

  Gabe did a little pirouette before stumbling back into the door. “It’s not my fault I’m light on my feet.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve gone into ballet instead of becoming a kick-ass country superstar.”

  Gabe grinned and once again, his pure light illuminated the room. “You really think I can make it?”

  Louie nodded, feeling simultaneously proud and protective, neither of which she could genuinely claim since they’d known each other less than a week. But Gabe was fast becoming the little brother she’d never had. “You’ll be in the top ten Billboard year-end charts in the next twelve months. I can feel it.” A light burning sensation behind her eyes surprised her, and she went to her bed to pick up her guitar before Gabe saw anything.

  He tapped her on the shoulder. “Would it be weird if I asked for a hug?”

  Louie turned around, and the look of absolute innocence on Gabe’s face would’ve warmed the coldest of hearts. “Sure, but don’t make it weird by staying in too long.” They negotiated an awkward dance of whose arms would go on top before Louie won out and wrapped hers around Gabe’s shoulders while he draped his arms around her waist. “I’m taller. If we’re going to hug often, it has to be like this.”

  He pulled away and buddy-clapped her on the back. “Thanks, Louie…for believing in me.”

  Louie’s hands had rested on his shoulders, but she moved slightly and pinched his cheek. “It’s easy to believe in someone with so much talent.”

  Gabe looked at the floor and swallowed hard enough for Louie to hear. When he returned her gaze, a thin film of moisture covered his dark brown eyes, and he wiped his cheek clear of a tear. Louie squeezed his shoulder firmly before letting him go. “Come on, Gabe. Let’s get city-side and secure your recording contract.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Heather glanced at the time on her screen as she completed her notes from Donny’s meeting. She liked to keep a record of all the singers and groups she recommended in some semblance of an order that reflected Donny’s tastes. Each file contained photos, a set list, and details of the performer along with the exact words Donny had responded with when referring to them. She hoped that doing so would help her stop wasting her time and choose acts that actually stood a chance of getting an audition.

  Someone knocked on her office door and Savana strolled in and closed the door behind her without waiting for Heather’s permission to enter.

  “You’re still here?” It was nearly seven, and Heather had expected Savana to be long gone. She’d seen Joe leave when she’d gone to get water from the k
itchen an hour ago. He’d given her a curt nod before getting in the elevator, and then she’d heard a bang as if someone was striking its metal wall. He seemed nothing but tense and irritated every time she saw him. She thought Savana had left midafternoon because she hadn’t been called in to see her since her meeting with Donny.

  Savana came around Heather’s desk and sat on the edge beside her. “Not pleased to see me?”

  She affected a flirtatious tone Heather had no doubt worked miracles with the men in her life. Heather figured she used it so much that the gender of the recipient barely registered. Or she knew Heather was gay. Panic wrapped around her throat like a boa constrictor and made it impossible to respond. She already had colleagues who were disgruntled with her speedy promotions through the Rocky Top ranks. Gossip about her sexuality would give them a weapon she had no defense against and undoubtedly derail her career.

  “Heather, are you okay?”

  Heather focused on Savana again, realizing she’d been staring through her. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Sorry, I thought you’d have gone home by now. It’s getting late.”

  Savana shook her head. “Haven’t you learned how seriously I’m taking this change of direction yet?”

  She put her hand on Heather’s shoulder, and it felt searing hot through the thin material of her blouse. A thousand ants marched up from the arch of her back and she shuddered hard. Savana removed her hand and laughed.

  “That’s not the reaction I usually get when I touch someone.”

  What the hell was going on? Heather pushed her chair away from the desk and stood, desperately aware that the door was closed and needing fresh air. It seemed like Savana was toying with her, and she didn’t like it one bit. Heather hated it when straight women played this kind of game for some weird validation.

  She picked up her iPad and pencil. “I have to go. Donny and I have auditions at seven in the studio.”

  “Really? How exciting.” Savana picked up Heather’s office phone and dialed a number. “It’s Savana, is Donny there?”

  Heather bit the inside of her lip, and her mouth felt dry. What was Savana doing?

  “Hey, Donny…yes, that’s correct. She’s with me now. It’s okay if I sit in on the auditions, isn’t it? …Perfect. See you in a few minutes.” Savana replaced the receiver and smiled at Heather. “Now I get to see the magic happen.”

  Heather nodded, slightly relieved, and remembered that Savana had said she’d come to Rocky Top partly because of Heather’s “talent whispering.” She’d overreacted and seen things that weren’t there to be seen. Paranoia. This is what happens when I hide myself. She wouldn’t be hiding when she owned her own label, that was for certain. She hoped Louie would stick around long enough for that to happen. Heather needed to tell Louie her plans. She didn’t want to stay in the closet forever. She knew that being an out lesbian might mean less commercial success, but that wasn’t what she wanted her label to be about anyway. She wanted it to be a haven for the different. “That’ll be lovely,” Heather said as she opened the door. Why had Savana called Donny about being present for the auditions though? Why hadn’t she just asked Heather directly? She pushed the questions away, thinking that Donny made the decisions and Savana knew that. It was folly of Heather to expect Savana to ask her permission for anything. Suitably self-chastised, Heather motioned for Savana to leave her office.

  Heather attempted small talk, but Savana seemed more interested in the talent she was about to see in the studio.

  “What do you see in the people you bring to Donny’s attention?” Savana asked.

  Heather smiled. “That’s a strange question coming from you.”

  They got in the elevator and Savana pressed for the basement. She leaned against the mirrored wall and looked at Heather seriously. “Why do you say that?”

  Heather shrugged. “Because you embody what I’m looking for. Lots of people have talent. They can sing, they can write, or they can perform. But not everybody has the triple threat, or even the deadly duo like you. Bizarre terms when they’re great things, I know, but that’s what I’m seeking.” A little melancholy knocked at the door of her consciousness, and she allowed it entry. “I’m looking for what I didn’t have.” She’d spoken the words without thinking. Only Emma knew of her original ambition and the reason she came to Nashville. She’d been careful to keep it to herself lest Donny would think she didn’t have the commitment he needed. Given what had just happened, she didn’t want Savana telling Donny anything.

  “You came to Nashville to be a singer?”

  Lie. Say no. “Briefly, yes.” Idiot. She couldn’t bring herself to be untruthful. “But I quickly realized I had a talent for finding the next big thing instead of being the next big thing.”

  Savana reached out and touched Heather’s forearm. “Maybe you could be a backing singer on my record when I finally find a writer I want to work with.”

  They reached the basement, and Heather was glad to step out into the small reception area. The longer she spent in the elevator, the smaller it seemed to become and the less air seemed to be available. Heather wasn’t necessarily attracted to Savana, it was more that she was uncomfortable with the new territory Savana had begun to lay out. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman, but she was straight and Heather barely played with card-carrying lesbians, let alone dallying straight girls. Then there was the rather large issue of professionalism. Heather had no intention of wrecking her career at Rocky Top by falling for their number one star. Lastly, there was Louie. She was managing to drag Heather’s attention toward her after just one meeting, and they hadn’t even slept together.

  And there Louie stood like a lighthouse on a foggy night. She was dressed in jeans that were baggy everywhere but around her perfectly formed ass and a baseball shirt with a crazy design of a female sailor on it. There were barely bumps where Heather would normally appraise a woman’s breasts, and it suited Louie. Heather decided she’d look weird with breasts anything other than the tiny little handful she seemed to have. Her hair looked precisely coiffed, and Heather imagined grabbing a handful of it as Louie made love to her. She swallowed and ran her tongue over her lips, wishing she hadn’t been interrupted by Savana. She’d planned to reapply her makeup and rock that killer black cherry lipstick Emma promised her would bring Louie to her knees.

  Heather’s gaze finally rested on Louie. She felt her face flush as she realized Louie was staring right back at her. The cocky little grin that greeted her guilt raced straight to the part of Heather’s body that definitely shouldn’t be awake at work.

  “Hi, Ms. King.”

  Louie held out her hand, and the welcome seemed terribly formal considering how close they’d been in front of the Bluebird. But no one here knew that. Louie had obviously listened to what Heather had said at the café and was being discreet.

  “Hi…Louie, isn’t it?” Heather instantly regretted the faux-forgetfulness and hoped Louie would see it as a cover-up and nothing more. She didn’t want Louie thinking she hadn’t made an impression because, by God, she had. Heather accepted Louie’s gesture and tried not to react as her long fingers wrapped around Heather’s hand. The strength and warmth of Louie’s handshake had Heather’s thoughts traveling to places they shouldn’t.

  “That’s right.” She motioned to Gabe, who’d stood as Heather approached. “You remember Gabe?”

  Heather was grateful there was no sarcasm in Louie’s words, and she reluctantly released Louie’s hand to shake Gabe’s. “Of course. How are you?” Before Gabe could answer, Savana coughed not-so-gently beside her. Heather had forgotten her current company in the haze of seeing Louie again. She stepped sideways to welcome Savana into the intimate circle they’d inadvertently formed. “I’m sure no introduction is needed here.”

  Louie smiled, but Heather convinced herself it wasn’t the kind of smile she’d thrown Heather’s way.

  “The great Savana Hayes. It’s an absolute pleasure.”

  Louie held ou
t her hand once more, and Heather noted how her grip seemed gentler. She quashed the flare of irritation that Louie might find Savana attractive. “Gabe is here to sing, and Louie writes songs.”

  “Really? Even more reason for me to watch the auditions tonight.”

  Heather’s stomach tightened in response to Gabe’s face, which moved from awe to terror as he processed Savana’s words. The pressure of a studio audition was great enough without having country royalty sitting in on it.

  “You’re…you’ll be…”

  Gabe’s stuttering was painful to watch.

  “You’ll be glad you did,” Louie said and squeezed Gabe’s shoulder. “This guy is amazing.”

  Heather smiled at Louie’s interruption and kicked herself for thinking that Louie and Gabe were anything more than friends. The way Louie looked after Gabe, Heather wouldn’t have been surprised if they were family.

  “And what about you?” Savana asked.

  Heather stopped herself from clenching her jaw. Savana’s interest in Louie was completely unwelcome, for Heather at least. She sighed, realizing her imagination was running away with her, and she dialed down the crazy. Savana had a huge army of fans, and she had to be charming to everyone. It had nothing to do with her sexuality.

  Louie looked at Savana, and Heather swore she could see vague amusement in her eyes. She was probably used to straight girls swooning all over her. Visually, she was the perfect mix of gender, and Heather was becoming increasingly more intrigued to know if Louie’s inner workings matched her outer visage. Heather envied Louie’s apparent comfort around women. She figured Louie was so smooth because she’d had a lot more experience than Heather. But boy, did she want to learn from her.

  “I’m not performing, Ms. Hayes,” Louie said.

  Her deep, husky voice vibrated through Heather’s soul, and there was something about the way Louie said “performing” that indicated she knew exactly what Savana was up to.