by Robyn Nyx
Gabe tilted his head to the side and looked less than impressed. “Be careful, Louie.”
She picked up her keys and jacket. “I promise.”
***
Despite the bar being packed, Mia wasn’t hard to spot. With her blond and bouncy curly hair and her equally bouncy breasts, Louie found her with one quick sweep of the room. Still as beautiful as Louie remembered, Mia was sitting at a booth with a woman who could easily be mistaken as her twin from this distance. Louie watched for a few moments, and the nature of their relationship became clear. They weren’t all over each other, which was probably a good idea in Nashville, but it was obvious from the way Mia looked at her. It was the exact same look Louie had thought was reserved just for her. She’d been such a sucker and now Mia had her claws in another one. She took a deep breath and strode over toward them. Louie was only a few steps away when Mia looked her way. She jumped up and threw her arms around Louie with such force, Louie had to steady herself to stop them from tumbling to the floor. The familiar press of Mia’s breasts against her chest was blatant, but Louie didn’t respond.
“Louie,” she exclaimed, sounding for all the world like she’d missed her. She held Louie at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “You look fabulous. Love the new hair.” She turned to her companion. “Diane, this is the amazing Louie I’ve been telling you about.”
Louie smiled as politely as she could manage. “Hi, Diane. It’s nice to meet you.”
Diane raised an eyebrow and bit her bottom lip. “You said she was handsome, but you neglected to say how handsome.” She held out her hand.
Louie shook it gently. “That’s very kind of you to say.” This wasn’t going at all like she’d anticipated.
“Diane, would you get us some drinks?” Mia ushered Louie into the seat and slipped in beside her. Diane stood and looked like she was waiting further instruction. “The cocktails here are the best I’ve ever tasted. Are mojitos still your favorite poison?”
Louie nodded, slightly stunned Mia had remembered. “But I’m driving, so I’ll just have a Coke, thanks.”
Mia motioned Diane away. “Maybe you could take us home, then. What’re you driving?”
Louie dismissed the flirtatious way Mia delivered her words, the invitation for a threesome blatant. She dropped her keys on the table. “Ford Ranger.”
“Ah, nice. There’s something about a truck.” Mia slid a little closer, and her thigh touched Louie’s.
Louie inched away and looked over to the bar. It was three deep, and Diane didn’t look like she was making much progress. She decided to get the unpleasantries out in the open while Diane wasn’t present. “Have you spent all our money yet?”
Mia smiled and shook her head. “Ah, handsome, you’re not still hung up on that, are you?” She put her hand on Louie’s neck and stroked her hair.
Louie swallowed and rolled her neck, trying to move Mia’s hand without doing it defensively. Mia’s nerve really was something. “Does that surprise you?”
Mia sighed theatrically and placed her other hand on Louie’s leg. “I’m sorry I did that, baby. I got stupid and blinded by broken promises.” She traced small circles on Louie’s thigh. “We could make it up to you tonight…if you want.”
Louie tensed her legs and removed Mia’s hand. “Aren’t you forgetting you’re with someone?” She glanced over at Diane, who hadn’t made much of an inroad toward the front of the bar and wondered how long it would be before Mia discarded her like the wrapping on a pack of smokes.
“We have a very open relationship,” Mia said and waved her hand toward Diane. “And I’ve already told her about how fabulous you are in bed. She wants to find out for herself.”
Louie ignored the flattery. “Why did you tell Heather King I was a violent drunk?”
Mia’s gaze didn’t falter. “I said no such thing.”
“You’ve told people I was aggressive when I got drunk.” Louie clenched her jaw, sure that Heather had no reason to make it up. Mia continued to draw light patterns in Louie’s hair until Louie took her wrist and pushed her away.
“I may have said you could be after a few drinks,” Mia said, then pouted while rubbing her wrist as though Louie had done damage. “Like now.”
“No. It was way more specific. Why would you do that?” Louie recognized Mia’s old pattern of shifting blame when she knew she’d been caught out.
Mia shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t remember saying anything like that, Louie.”
Louie sighed. She was here to close this door and get on with her life. “Please don’t say anything about me to anyone. I’m trying to start fresh, and I don’t need that kind of reputation.”
Mia shrugged. “Fine. Do you want me to act like I don’t know you at all?”
Louie sank back against the booth. “There’s no need for that. Just don’t make any trouble for the sake of it. I’m not going to the police about you stealing almost everything I own—and I know about you trying to get my guitar—so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread any rumors about me.”
Diane returned to the table and disturbed the tense interaction. She settled in opposite Louie, pushed a large glass of soda toward her, and smiled. The dark shadowing of eyeliner beneath her light gray eyes made them sparkle. Louie was sure it wouldn’t be long before Mia took that sparkle away.
“Here’s to new friendships,” Diane said, oblivious to the frosty atmosphere she’d returned to.
Diane and Mia clinked their shot glasses together and knocked them back, followed by two more each with no words and only suggestive glances between them. Diane picked up her mojito and pulled the straw into her mouth with her tongue, looking between Louie and Mia as if she wasn’t sure who to devour first.
Louie felt the point of Diane’s shoe travel up her calf. She leaned over the table, and her breasts swelled over the tightness of her shirt. “I hope a boi like you won’t take advantage of two girls like us…”
She didn’t say it like she meant it. It sounded more like a dare. Louie reached down and pushed Diane’s foot away. “I’m flattered. But I’m not interested.” She and Heather might not be an item just yet, but there was no way she was getting into whatever the hell it was Diane and Mia were offering. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she hoped for some psychic link to Heather that had caused her to text Louie at that exact moment. “Thanks for the soda, but I’ve got to go.” Louie motioned for Mia to slide back out of the booth and let her leave.
“Can’t you stay? I’d like to catch up,” Mia said.
Louie pushed her soda away and picked up her truck keys. “Sorry, no.” She had no interest in anything Mia had to say. It would all be self-serving bull crap anyway. Diane looked perplexed, and Mia sighed heavily before slowly doing as Louie had asked.
“Don’t forget me, Louie,” Mia said, putting her hand on Louie’s shoulder as she moved past her.
Louie paused, suddenly aware that she’d successfully negotiated her first encounter with Mia since she’d disappeared with all their money. The work she’d done on letting go had paid off, and her concern that Mia would wheedle her lying way back into Louie’s heart had been unfounded. “I won’t,” she said and walked away, never tempted to glance back. She’d remember the lessons she’d learned from Mia, for sure, but the rest of it she’d push to the dark recesses of her mind where it belonged. Louie pulled out her phone to see the text message was from Heather: Loved having coffee with you (even though you take it as black as the devil’s soul : ) Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Me 2. Sorry I made u cry again. Promise the next time I do that, it’ll be for a way better reason. Louie returned her cell to her pocket and headed back to her truck, thinking about what it would be like to make Heather cry out with pleasure.
Chapter Twenty-five
Heather usually looked forward to Fridays. They meant sleeping in on Saturdays. She still spent the weekend evenings at bars, clubs, and gigs if required, bu
t at least she got to slob around in her sweats the rest of the time. Today was different, and she was willing the time to go more slowly.
It’d been a full-on week with Louie and Savana working on the new album, and they’d been pulling fifteen-hour days. Savana had insisted that Heather be present as much as possible, and Donny had instructed her to delegate all her other responsibilities to other colleagues. That hadn’t gone over well with her colleagues, and their level of jealousy remained high. She’d decided to be more Zen about it and let it go. There was nothing she could do about it, and it wasn’t her fault that Savana had asked for her and not them. She didn’t need them; she had all the help she needed from her team of Vetti and Tim.
And she got to spend more time with Louie. As the week wore on, everybody seemed to become increasingly relaxed, and seeing Louie in professional mode was even more of a turn-on. Savana banished Tim from the writing room because of his constant babbling about Emma, and Heather couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t aiming for an album of gushy country love songs. She wanted her sound to be harder and edgier, and Louie was delivering precisely that.
“Let’s go over ‘I Won’t Be A Whisper’ one more time. I’m still not sure about the key change on the bridge into the final section.”
It was Heather’s favorite song so far, and she was sure it was already perfect, but Savana wanted nothing less than perfection. Louie smiled graciously and winked at Heather, making her feel like a cheerleader getting attention from the school track captain. She wondered if Louie played sports at school…she would’ve liked to have worn Louie’s letterman jacket.
Savana touched Heather’s wrist, and the feather-like caress made her shiver involuntarily. “Is everything okay?” Heather asked.
“Would you record this version for me, please? I want to compare it to the one we did on Wednesday.”
“Of course.” Heather turned on the portable multitrack recorder and the attached microphones that were set up close to both Savana and Louie. “Check volume.” Savana sang a few lines, and Louie played a couple of bars of the song. “The levels look good. Four, three, two, one.” She pressed record and motioned with her finger for them to begin. Heather stepped back silently just as she felt her cell vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a text from Donny wanting a verbal progress report.
Savana stopped singing. “Heather?”
Heather paused the recording. “I’m really sorry. Donny wants to know how things are going. He wants me in his office right now.”
Savana’s expression softened, and she nodded, smiling. “Tell him he’s an asshole.”
Heather smiled and shook her head. “I’ll let you tell him that in person.” Heather offered the remote to her, and she took it, accidentally touching Heather’s fingers as she drew it away. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“We’ll miss you,” Savana replied, a hint of mischief in her eyes.
Heather closed the door behind her and headed to Donny’s office. Savana had become more playful over the past few days, and Heather couldn’t figure out whether she was enjoying it or not. On the one hand, it was beginning to feel like she and Savana were becoming friends, but on the other hand, it seemed less than professional, something Heather was determined to be, no matter the situation.
Heather stepped out from the elevator onto Donny’s floor, and Mandie smiled at her as she drew closer. “Hello, stranger. How are you doing?”
Heather blew out a long breath. “Does that answer your question?”
Mandie chuckled and nodded. “It sure does. Hang in there.” She motioned to Donny’s closed door. “Go on in. He’s been waiting for you.”
“Thanks.” Heather waved a good-bye and briefly pondered Mandie’s direction to “hang in there.” What had she heard? The only people who’d been in the writing room had been Savana, Louie, Tim, and briefly, Vetti. Savana seemed happy with what she was doing; there were radio and magazine interviews lined up, and she’d managed to get the Opry to agree to the album launch being held there on the proviso Savana would preview at least half of the new songs.
“About damn time, girl.”
Donny’s barked address knotted Heather’s insides. His constant reference to her as a girl when she was a woman in her late twenties was irritating at best and sexist at worst. The more meetings she took with him, the faster she wanted out of Rocky Top for good. She closed the door behind her wordlessly and sat down. There was no point responding that she’d come as soon as she’d received his message. He wanted her to keep Savana happy so even if she had been held up, he shouldn’t be grumbling at her. She tried to relax, knowing it’d be over soon enough.
Donny poured himself two fingers of an amber liquid. “Would you like one?”
He’d never offered before, and Heather almost felt like she couldn’t refuse. But it was barely noon.
He chuckled, having obviously caught her attempt at a subtle glance at her watch. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” He capped the cut glass decanter and ambled back to his desk. “Tell me how’s it going.”
“Really well. Savana and Louie are very much playing from the same songbook. Savana was sick on Tuesday, but they’ve got two songs almost complete and another two started. As you know, Savana wants me in the writing room, but I’m still managing to get things organized around that time.” Donny nodded approvingly when she told him about the Opry and the interviews.
“That’s good.”
His short response surprised her, and there was a heavy feeling in the air that he wanted to talk about something but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. Her stomach tightened, and she leaned back in her chair, fighting to control the irrational fear. Donny was known for his bluntness. She hadn’t known an issue yet that he didn’t grab by the tail and slam on the floor in short order. Her mind ran to the worst scenario, and she fought the rising panic. Everything was going well. There was no reason for him to fire her. “Is everything okay, Donny?”
He swallowed the rest of his drink and refilled it with three fingers’ worth. “Of course it is.” He returned to his chair, and it creaked in protest as he pushed his considerable frame farther into it. “Is Savana acting okay?”
It was a weird question. “In what way?” They’d been working together for a week; how was Heather supposed to know what her “acting okay” looked like?
He tapped his ear. “What kind of sound is she coming out with?”
“I guess you’d say it’s edgier than her earlier stuff, and there’s certainly no ‘stand by your man’ kind of vibe.”
Donny leaned forward in his chair, and Heather noticed his shirt straining to stay buttoned.
“You’d ‘guess’? I don’t pay you to guess, girlie. I pay you to know.”
He took another swig of his bourbon and scratched at his balding head. He seemed more irritable than usual, and Heather was no closer to knowing why. She kept her voice even and calm. Ex-colleagues that had tried to shout back at Donny got them nowhere but on the sidewalk with their office crap in a cardboard box. “They haven’t written that much yet, but there’s a lot of focus on not being a quiet little woman anymore.”
“Explain.”
Heather tried to recall the lyrics to “I Won’t Be a Whisper” to give him an example, but they evaded her, as if they didn’t want Donny to hear them yet. “She’s talking about being a powerful woman and not needing a man to be successful. I expect some of that is in reference to her recent breakup. There’s also some anger toward her father and his favoring of her brothers. That’s about as far as she’s gotten.” It seemed plenty to Heather, but Donny sounded more concerned with the content than the speed with which they were working. “Are you worried her sound isn’t going to suit Rocky Top?”
He wrinkled his nose as if Heather had just wafted a plate of curdled milk under his nose.
“She’s split up with Chip Jackson?”
“Uh, yeah. I thought Joe had told you.”
He brought his fis
t down on his desk and snorted. “That creep doesn’t tell me shit. He’s strutting around with a bug up his ass, and he’s avoiding talking to me unless Savana’s around.” He sipped on his drink and said nothing for a few moments. “I can count on you, can’t I, Heather?”
The fact that he used her name told her his request was serious. “Of course you can.” Until she’d gotten enough money and investment to start her own label.
“I gave you your first shot in this town, and I promoted you when everyone else advised against it.”
She didn’t know who was supposed to be the “everyone else” who’d told him not to hire her, and it had been Aaron who’d given her a job when she’d failed to get through the reception of the other top labels in town. “You did, and I’ll always appreciate that.”
He leaned farther over his desk. “Your loyalty is toward me, yes?”
It was another weird question, but something had gotten him riled in a way she’d never seen before, and his grasping behavior unnerved her. “What are you worried about, Donny? I thought Savana joining Rocky Top was nothing but good for us.”
“Are you loyal to me or not?”
“Yes, I am. But I’m confused, Donny. What’s concerning you?”
He relaxed back in his chair and dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. “Hopefully nothing. But I need to know I can count on you to come to me if you think anything’s happening that could compromise the reputation of this label. Do you understand?”
Not at all. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” He motioned toward the door to indicate the meeting was over. “Daily reports by email and make an appointment with Mandie if it’s something serious. She knows to get you in regardless of my schedule.”
Heather rose and retrieved her iPad from Donny’s desk. “No problem.”
She exited the office as quickly as her heels would allow without fear of an inelegant fall, knowing full well that he’d be leering at her ass despite whatever bizarre concerns he was harboring. She’d been in there less than fifteen minutes and he’d managed to freak her out more than usual. Heather had no idea what he was worried about, and he’d given her no clues. He’d never questioned her loyalty before. Hardly anyone expected loyalty in this town anymore. It was a different world with each person looking after themselves. Everyone used everyone else until they no longer served their purpose, and some were lucky enough to always be useful. It all seemed so Machiavellian, but it also seemed to work just fine.