Music City Dreamers

by Robyn Nyx

  Donny had been stoked to sign Savana, but his questions hinted at a case of cold feet with her change in direction. And what did he mean by letting him know if anything might “compromise the reputation of the label”? Signing Savana was as good as printing money for Rocky Top, so why was Donny worried? And Savana was her artist now, so she had to balance her happiness and creative expression with the needs of the label. Why did she have the impression they no longer aligned?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Heather perched her finely shaped ass on the barstool and sipped at her margarita through a tiny straw. Beyond her, Louie could see a couple of hundred people on the ground floor of the Mai Tribe club. If any one of them had looked up, they wouldn’t have seen them. Savana had secured them the VIP mezzanine area complete with one-way privacy glass.

  “I wasn’t expecting this invitation,” Louie said, watching Heather’s expression carefully. It’d been a great first week working with Savana, but she’d come to suspect that Savana wanted Heather around for a different reason than she’d been letting on. And Heather had seemed quite receptive to the attention.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.” Heather smiled and placed her drink on the high bar.

  “I thought I’d better play along. It would’ve looked strange if I’d turned Savana down when everyone else jumped at the offer.” Louie motioned to Tim and Vetti, dancing on the small stage together. “Why did you think I’d say no?” Savana waved and beckoned them to join her, but Louie shook her head. If she got dance-close to Heather, close enough to smell her light perfume, Louie knew her hand would rest on Heather’s hips and she’d draw her nearer still, putting just inches between their lips. It was too much temptation, though she wasn’t sure that Heather’s attentions weren’t elsewhere now that Savana had clearly settled in to make her own play for Heather. Louie guessed it made sense that Heather might be more interested in someone who must’ve spent a lifetime passing as straight when she was still more or less closeted herself.

  “I thought it might be hard for you, for us. A night out dancing is a whole lot different from a quiet coffee.” Heather looked a little unsure. “I know it’s hard for me.”

  Louie raised her eyebrows. Maybe she’d misread the situation from Heather’s side. “You’re right. It is hard.” She fought the urge to reach out and caress Heather’s cheek and picked at the label of her beer instead. “But I’ve got some other things on my mind.”

  Heather nodded as if she might have an inkling of what those other things could be. “We haven’t had a chance to talk. How did it go with Mia?”

  Louie smiled, cheered by the thought that Heather might be slightly bothered by Mia’s presence in her life. “She was a lot friendlier than I thought she was going to be.” She kept the offer Mia had made of a threesome with her girlfriend to herself.

  “Is she going to keep her foul rumors to herself?”

  “I hope so.”

  Heather looked as though she had more questions, but Savana touched her shoulder and she jumped. Vetti and Tim sat on stools beside Louie.

  “Are you two okay?” Savana asked, looking only at Heather.

  Louie continued picking at her beer label, trying to quell the rising ball of jealousy that saw her imagining dropping Savana with one strike.

  “We’re fine.” Heather raised her glass. “Thanks for this. It’s really nice of you to invite us out to celebrate a great first week working together.”

  Savana held her champagne glass to Heather’s and then to everyone else’s. “It’s absolutely my pleasure. You’ve all been amazing. I finally feel like I’m getting somewhere with my new direction.” She looked at Louie and smiled. “And you were the final piece of the puzzle.”

  Louie returned her smile and tried to make it genuine. Maybe she was imagining things. Savana was a beautiful, generous woman. That didn’t make her gay, and even if she was, it didn’t mean she wanted Heather. Though she’d be crazy not to want her. “That’s nice of you to say.”

  Savana turned back to Heather and grabbed her wrist. “Dance time for you.”

  Heather glanced at Louie, but her expression gave nothing away, and she seemed to let herself be led away willingly.

  “Are you coming?” Vetti asked.

  Louie shook her head. “You guys go. I’m no dancer.”

  “Ah, come on. Tim can’t dance either, but it doesn’t keep him from enjoying it.”

  Vetti tried Savana’s trick and took Louie’s wrist, but she held firm and pulled back, gently but firmly. “I’m good drinking my beer and watching.”

  Tim put his hands on Vetti’s waist and tugged her back. “Leave her be.”

  Vetti shrugged and they headed back to the dance floor, leaving Louie room to breathe again. Despite the size of the room, claustrophobia and the desire to bolt always kicked in when people wouldn’t take no as her definitive answer. She went back to her beer and tried to focus on the rest of the club rather than watch Heather. Savana’s arms were draped over Heather’s shoulders, and Heather looked less than comfortable. She thought about straight female friends she’d had in the past. A lot of them liked to dance that way with her, and maybe that was all Savana was doing now. Heather had said Savana knew her secret, and perhaps this was her way of showing Heather that her sexuality didn’t matter to her. Could be that she even wanted a one-time walk on the wild side. Heather was gorgeous and easily in Savana’s league. Maybe it was Louie that wasn’t in Heather’s league.

  Louie closed her eyes and shut out the music. Gabe had played her a guitar hook when she’d called him to let him know she was heading straight out after work, and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She needed to sit down with her guitar and write down the lyrics and tune that had come to her before they disappeared.

  A light touch on Louie’s shoulder disturbed her flow. She opened her eyes to see Heather looking a little worried.

  “Is this really not your scene?”

  Louie checked behind Heather and saw Savana and the rest of Heather’s team still on the dance floor. She nodded to the chair beside her, and Heather hopped up onto it. “It’s not that. I’d love to dance, properly dance, with you, but it wouldn’t do much for your being in the closet, and I’ve got a feeling Savana wouldn’t like it either.”

  Heather frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Louie leaned closer and whispered, “I think Savana’s got a thing for you.”

  She laughed. “Don’t be silly. She’s as straight as they come.”

  Louie smirked and shook her head. “The only thing straight about her is her hair. You’ve been wondering why she was so desperate to work with you; maybe this is your answer.” The wounded look on Heather’s face made Louie regret her words. Way to charm her, asshole. She reached over and touched Heather’s forearm gently. “Hey, maybe she is straight, and she only wants you because you’re so beautiful.”

  Heather’s mouth barely turned up at the corner in the briefest of smiles, and she pulled away from Louie’s touch. “I need another drink.”

  Sure that anything else she said would worsen the situation, Louie pointed toward the bar. “I’ll get it.”

  Louie stood and took Heather’s glass from the table. The DJ upped the pace of the music, and the throng on the floor below yelled out in appreciative delight.

  Heather watched Louie walk away without a backward glance, and despondency knocked for her attention. The thought that Savana might have chosen her to work with simply because of her sexuality made her stomach clench, and the throwaway manner in which Louie said it bothered her even more. She wanted to dismiss Louie’s observation that Savana was obviously a lesbian or bisexual, or whatever the hell it was Louie thought, but she couldn’t help but think it made some sense. All the things she’d taken as simple and friendly gestures of affection now took on extra meaning. Heather had been slightly uncomfortable with Savana’s closeness in the writing room, and even though she kept inching away, Savana would casually touc
h her or move away only to return, closer still.

  “No. There’s no way.”

  “There’s no way what?” Savana asked from behind her.

  Heather spun around on her barstool and smiled, slightly unnerved by Savana’s stealthy approach. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  Savana sat on the stool Louie had just vacated. “Louie’s crushing hard on you. Is that why she just tore out of here? Did you tell her you weren’t interested?”

  “She’s gone to get us more drinks.” Heather wrinkled her brow. Why would Savana assume she wasn’t interested? “I think she’s got a certain appeal.” She held back on her true desire to jump all over Louie but she wasn’t sure why. What did it matter what Savana thought anyway?

  “I wouldn’t have plugged her as your type.” She wet her finger before running it around the rim of her glass. It hummed a monotone tune in response.

  Heather decided to play along. Louie’s assertion had caught her unawares, and this seemed like a good opportunity to test Louie’s theory out. “And what kind of woman do you think is my type?” She smiled to give the impression the conversation was lighter than it felt.

  “A more traditional woman. Feminine. Long hair, lipstick, and heels.”

  Savana had just described herself, but running to stereotypes surprised Heather, particularly after she’d shown such sensitivity around pronouns and Louie’s potential gender. To be fair, Savana’s assessment of Heather’s type was to the letter of her previous relationships. But that didn’t mean she had a type, because she’d been instantly attracted to Louie. Heather pushed her skirt closer to her knees, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. She cursed herself for being so egotistical and falling for Louie’s misguided allegation. “I like all kinds of women.” It sounded all wrong, like she’d had hundreds of bed partners.

  Savana smirked and raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me you’re a player, Miss King?”

  Heather laughed and shook her head. “I don’t think two longish-term relationships qualifies me to take that moniker.” She almost smacked herself upside the head. She’d blurted her response without thinking. Damn, she hated playing games. Why couldn’t people just be straight with each other?

  “Still, with your position and ambition, can you afford to have such an…obvious partner?” Savana sipped on her champagne and held Heather’s gaze. “I suppose that’s why I thought you might prefer feminine women. Women who can easily pass as straight.”

  Louie came into view beyond Savana’s shoulder, holding two bottles of beer aloft. She seemed unfazed by Savana having taken her stool and dropped onto the one opposite both of them. She held out the bottle and Heather gratefully seized it to take a long drink. It wasn’t like she could respond to Savana’s words now that Louie had returned, but there was an unrest in the air she didn’t want to address. She wondered if Louie could sense it. Was she right about Savana? Is that what she’d been doing her whole career: “passing”? It seemed ludicrous to suggest it but also strangely logical. Savana had been with Chip Jackson for the past decade or so and everyone had wondered why they had never gotten married. Were they both just covering for each other, passing as straight to make sure their careers didn’t falter? They’d just broken up, and Savana was determined to take her career in a new direction, one that her agent, Joe, didn’t seem to fully support. Heather had interpreted the song “I Won’t Be a Whisper” as a rallying cry for stronger-voiced women in an industry where being a girl in a country song meant cut-off jeans, bikini tops, and looking good for the guys. But was it to be Savana’s coming out song? And had Donny heard something? That would certainly explain why he’d called her into his office today, being totally vague about the interests of Rocky Top.

  “I’m glad you’re happy with how the new songs are turning out,” Louie said, focusing her attention on Savana. “We’re not writing the kind of songs you’re famous for.”

  Savana tipped her glass Louie’s way. “And is that a good thing?”

  Louie laughed. “That’s an impossible question to answer.”

  “Why is that?” Savana asked.

  “Aw, come on, Savana,” Heather said. “If she says that it’s a good thing, she’s essentially trashing your entire career so far. If she says it’s not a good thing, she’s declaring that the new songs aren’t as good as your old stuff. It’s a frying pan or fire kind of question.” Heather sat back and took another quick drink, not wanting to look Savana in the eye after her little outburst. It wasn’t as though Louie couldn’t handle the question, but Heather had somehow felt compelled to jump to her rescue. When she put her bottle on the table, both Savana and Louie were looking at her with raised eyebrows and amused smiles.

  “Want to take a shot at answering for yourself now, Louie?” Savana asked.

  Louie bit her lip and sighed, but Heather saw a hint of a grin at the corner of her mouth. She reprimanded herself for interfering. Louie could take care of herself.

  “I love your back catalogue. Your early songs were traditional fare that launched you as a superstar and sealed your place in people’s hearts,” Louie said. “The music you’ve produced over the past five years showed a move away from that and into something stronger, more woman-centric, and less ‘stand by your man.’ The songs we’re writing now signify your confidence in your status as a country icon. You’re baring your soul. You’re keeping yourself relevant, and it’s going to introduce you to a whole new audience of country fans ready for something more than God, trucks, and first kisses. You’re like the Madonna of country music, only younger and without the multiple husband baggage.”

  Heather suppressed any facial reaction to the husband quip. If Louie was right about Savana’s sexuality, it might be a little too on the nose. Savana didn’t respond immediately, adding some suspense to the situation. Savana smiled the way Heather had seen on a thousand magazines and TV interviews.

  “I like the way you see my music,” Savana said. “It reinforces the gut instinct I had to take a chance on a new writer when Donny was desperate for me to work with someone more established.” She stood and took another sip of her champagne. “I need to dance some more. Are you joining me?”

  Her question seemed like it was open to both of them, but Savana looked at Heather. “I’m still out of breath from the last song. I’ll join you in a little while,” Heather said.

  “Dancing isn’t my forte. Your feet are safer if I stay here.” Louie smiled and tipped her beer bottle toward Savana.

  Savana raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Your loss.”

  Heather waited until she was a safe distance away before turning to Louie. She wanted to forget about Savana for now. She was more interested in how things had gone with Louie and Mia. Louie had been a little evasive about it, and Heather needed to know if there was some chance of reconciliation in the air. Mia didn’t deserve someone as sweet as Louie, she was sure of that, but she didn’t want to be caught in some lesbian lust and love triangle. Lust being the operative word for now. Louie made her buzz in places that for the past five years had only responded to battery operated stimulus. “So. Mia.”

  Louie laughed. “Subtle. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you getting back together?”

  Louie stopped midair as she raised her bottle to her lips. “That’s very straightforward of you.”

  Heather shrugged. “I don’t see the point in mooching around the subject. You and I are attracted to each other, but we’re waiting until we’ve finished working together to do anything about it. If that’s changed, I’d like to know now so we can have a professional relationship.” She had no idea where her forthright attitude was coming from, but she maintained momentum. “I like you, Louie, but I won’t wait around like a cute—but unwanted—puppy at the pound. Tell me straight, and we’ll be good.” Heather would be bummed, but at least they could be friends.

  “Okay.” Louie held up her hands and grinned. “Mia wanted to have sex with me…and her girlfriend. I’m
not sure whether or not that meant she wanted to start things back up with me.” Louie took another long drink of her beer.

  Heather didn’t know how to parse Louie’s statement out. Had they had a threesome? Did she even want to know if they had? She floundered, a little out of her depth, and tried to change the subject slightly. “Emma said Mia perked up when she told her about your gig with Savana.”

  Louie dropped her beer onto the bar with such force it made Heather jump.

  “What? When did Emma tell her that?”

  Heather eased back in her stool. Louie was practically bristling with aggressive energy, and it unnerved her. Louie had been drinking. Was this the violent drunk coming out like Mia had warned? Louie’s usually calm demeanor had fallen away like dead leaves in winter. “It was when Emma told her you wanted to get in touch about something. Why?” She reached out tentatively and touched Louie’s forearm, glad when she didn’t shrug away her gesture.

  She ran her hand through her hair and rubbed hard at her scalp. “I should’ve known she was trying to play me. She just wanted to get close to Savana.”

  Heather went to hold Louie’s hand but held back. “And did you let her play you?” She had to know.

  “No. Turns out she no longer has any sort of hold on me.” Louie clinked her bottle to Heather’s. “And I got a text from you that reminded me I’d moved on.”

  The storm in Louie’s eyes had passed. Considering what Mia had already done to Louie, her reaction to Mia’s manipulation was completely natural. She hated that she’d allowed Mia’s accusations to settle in her mind. “I’ve got no right—”