A Country Music Christmas

by Maggie Carpenter

  "You're so calm."

  "Says who?" Harry shot back, his eyes wide. "I'm scared shitless, but I'm like, whoa, this is so great."

  "Yeah, it is. I just wish my heart would stop pounding."

  "Hey, Summer, guess who called me?"

  "I have no idea, Harry. Who called you?"

  "Crystal Blake."

  "Name rings a vague bell."

  "You know, the girl back in high-school I was so nuts about who was going out with Robbie Parker."

  "Oh, you mean that stuck-up cheerleader who made fun of you because you played classical music? That Crystal Blake?"

  "Yeah, and so did Melissa Simons, and that cute girl at Starbucks gave me my latte for free yesterday."

  "Huh. So, suddenly you're a ladies man? Why do you think that is, Harry?"

  "Well, duh, I'm guessin' it's because they heard I'm goin' to Liam Taylor's New Year's party on his private jet."

  "I think that's a pretty good—shit—Harry, we're moving."

  "This is so cool!"

  "Keep talking," she bleated. "It'll help. Please, Harry, keep talking."

  "No way. I don't even remember what I was sayin'."

  The jet began to roll down the runway, and gripping the armrests Summer took several deep breaths, but Harry started laughing, and as the plane picked up speed his unabashed nervous merriment was suddenly contagious. A few moments later, as the aircraft lifted its nose and left the ground, both of them were in peals of hysteria.

  "I don't know what's so funny," Summer exclaimed. "Why am I like this?"

  "I have no idea, but it's going away, thank God," Harry chuckled. "Maybe it was sheer terror."

  "Oh, my gosh, this is unfucking believable."

  "Summer, I know I bitch about you sometimes, but right now I'm really glad you're my sister."

  "Oh, shit. I need a drink."

  "You and me both."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Eagerly awaiting Summer's arrival, Liam was standing in the elegantly decorated banquet room of The Hermitage Hotel. Built in 1910, with its domed ceilings and archways, the hotel reeked of old-world charm and sophistication. Some years Liam opted to have his party in the modern Renaissance or the trendy Hutton, but just as the ruby ring had captivated him, so did The Hermitage Hotel. Though it had been renovated in 2000, the feel of yesteryear was still alive. Sometimes Liam thought he must have an old soul. He was drawn to bygone eras and was far more comfortable in such surroundings.

  "Was that okay, Mr. Taylor?"

  The question had come from Benny, the tech in charge of the evening's entertainment. He had just finished a run-through of the various segments of the party for Liam's final approval.

  "It was great, but make sure there's not a sound before starting the last feature at 11:45 p.m."

  "Will do."

  "Thanks, Benny."

  Checking his watch Liam saw it was time to head to the airport. The guests would start arriving around 9:00 p.m., and while it was only 6:15 p.m., he would be micro-managing dozens of last minute details. He could have sent a car, but he was aching to see Summer, and marching through the hotel he stopped at the reception desk to double-check the arrangements he'd made for Harry's room and pick up the key. It was a Deluxe King, and while Liam had no doubt the young man would be completely blown away, he would find the minibar empty of alcohol.

  An invitation to the L.T. Productions New Year's Eve party was the hottest ticket in Nashville. It was deemed pure gold, and being a big star or celebrity was not a requirement, nor was it a guarantee. Every year Liam went through the list with meticulous care. Being a guest one year did not automatically ensure you would attend the next. If you had crossed swords with the indefatigable Mr. Taylor and had proven to be a worthy opponent, you could well receive his blessing and the coveted invitation, but if your halo had been tarnished through scandal, regardless of your stature, the hoped-for envelope would probably not materialize.

  But there was a second party. A private party. The creme-de-la-creme of Nashville's New Year's Eve gatherings.

  Summer's assumption about the pendant had been correct. A select group of lucky guests would be afforded entry into the Presidential Suite. It boasted a sumptuous buffet, a full bar, and the very best champagne. The pendant was the invitation, and told the crowd the wearer had received the ultimate token of respect and admiration from the illustrious Liam Taylor, but they were under no obligation to attend the main party; they were welcome to spend the evening in the quiet elegance of the suite.

  For those who did choose to be amongst the crowd, the suite was an oasis should the gathering become too boisterous, and though the doors officially closed at 12:05 a.m., it was rare that anyone missed the countdown to the New Year in the banquet room.

  But the Presidential Suite was also where Liam spent the night.

  He'd always had a beautiful woman on his arm, but when he thought about spending the special evening with Summer, his feelings of eager anticipation were foreign; he absolutely couldn't wait to see her. Though he'd initially planned on driving himself to pick her up, he'd decided to use one of the hotel limos instead, and walking outside he was pleased to see it waiting.

  Hurrying over he climbed into the back seat, and as he settled in he was glad he'd made the choice. Sitting in the closed space with Summer would be cozy and intimate, even if Harry was with them. It was about a twenty minute drive to the airport, but spending most of the time on his phone made it seem much quicker. It was only a few minutes after he'd hurried into the terminal servicing the private planes that he was enveloping her in his arms, and as he did two things flashed through his mind. The ruby ring, and A Song For Liam.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Summer had her arm looped through Liam's elbow and was blissfully leaning her head against his shoulder. For the first few minutes the drive back to the hotel had been oddly quiet. Even Harry had barely spoken.

  "Are we all tired or gearin' up for tonight," Liam asked, "or both?"

  "I think Harry's a bit shell-shocked," Summer remarked.

  "I am not. I'm just thinkin'."

  Summer's phone rang, and rummaging through her bag she pulled it out and stared at the screen.

  "It's dad. Shoot, I promised I'd call when we landed and I forgot. Hi, dad. We just got in a few minutes ago."

  "Good flight?"

  "Amazing."

  "Is Liam with you?"

  "Yes, he's right here. Do you need him?"

  "Sure do."

  "Dad wants to talk you," Summer said, handing Liam the phone.

  "Hi Keith. Happy New Year. Is somethin' up with my house?"

  "Nope, I just got a phone call from a limo company askin' what time they should pick us up."

  "Oh, that."

  "Yeah, that."

  "It's a special night, and I thought it would be nice to have a bottle of wine and not worry about drivin'."

  "Liam, it's—"

  "It's an early anniversary present," Liam declared, cutting him off, "besides, bein' at my house for two days and dealin' with the county and my contractor, I'm real grateful Keith. Here, I'm puttin' Summer back on the phone."

  "Hey dad."

  "That man of yours ordered your mother and me a limo for tonight. I swear, what a thoughtful guy. I can't believe it."

  "He did? Wow. Well you guys have a super time, and Happy New Year. I'll call you tomorrow."

  "Not early, we're sleepin' in."

  "I promise. Bye."

  "Bye, kitten."

  "Liam, that was so generous," she said gratefully, ending the call.

  "What?" Harry asked. "What did I miss?"

  "Liam arranged a limo for mom and dad tonight."

  "It was a bribe," Liam declared. "I've gotta stay in good with them so I can keep seein' their daughter."

  "Hah. That's good, Liam," Harry laughed. "Um, Liam, you mentioned your house."

  "What about it?"

  "That property, the acreage I mean, it's kinda
big, right?"

  "It's about twenty acres. It extends into the wooded area along the side. The fence isn't a boundary line."

  "That's what I thought."

  "Why do you ask?"

  "I took a wander over there yesterday and I found a huge area of flat land, probably about two acres, that looks like an old buildin' pad. It's flat, and it would have a pretty good view once the native brush was cleared away."

  "What are you suggestin', Harry?"

  "Demolish the side of your house that's messed up, and repair the part that's not. It could be a guest house, a place for musicians to stay. The studio's in the basement, right?"

  "Yeah, keep goin'."

  "Build a new home on the pad I found. There's no straight steep peak behind it like where you are now, and that forest would give you way more protection if a slide ever did happen again. Oh, and you'll have a whole lot more privacy. Where your house is now is great, but it's exposed."

  "Damn. That's a great idea. It'll mean buildin' from scratch, but I like that idea. I've always wanted to create my own space from scratch."

  "I don't think it'd take long to make the undamaged part of your home livable," Harry continued, "and you could stay there while your new place is bein' built."

  "Why didn't you tell me your little brother was so smart, Summer? You've been holdin' out on me."

  "He's surprising me right now too," she said with a grin. "I mean, seriously, who are you? What did you do with Harry?"

  "I owe you for this one," Liam said gratefully. "I'm gonna send Ted an email tomorrow."

  "You can fly me around in that jet any time you want. It was fantastic. I've never been in a small plane before and it was a trip."

  "I know what you mean. You can sense the speed, especially on take-off and landin'. Kinda feels like bein' in a rocket ship."

  "It totally does. I can't wait to tell Crystal."

  "Is that your girlfriend?"

  "Are you kidding?" Summer chimed in. "In high-school Harry was the nerd who locked himself in the music room to play classical music for hours. Crystal was a cheerleader and wouldn't give him the time of day. Now she's calling him, along with every other girl in town."

  "Not every other girl," Harry retorted with a wicked grin. "Just a few."

  "Harry, I'm gonna make a suggestion," Liam said. "That gold pendant is important. It means you're a preferred guest and you can go up to the Presidential Suite and enjoy a private party. There's only a handful of people who get one."

  "Cool. Thanks, Liam."

  "Havin' it around your neck is gonna bring you attention. People are gonna wanna know who you are, especially unattached females. Actually, now that I think about it, even some of the attached ones."

  "No kiddin'?"

  "That's all fine, but it's better not to wear it at first. If you see a girl you wanna talk to, approach her. If she gives you the cold shoulder, so be it. If she's nice back, then great, she's bein' nice because she likes you."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Seems like this Crystal girl isn't interested in you, she's interested in what's happenin' in your life and wants to be a part of it."

  "Yeah, I know. It's still kinda cool though," he said, his evil grin growing wider. "Kinda like what dad says sometimes."

  "What does dad say?" Summer asked.

  "You'll always get your chance to get even. You just have to wait a bit."

  "Harry!" Summer exclaimed, shocked at her brother's confession. "Oh, Harry, you are so bad."

  "Gettin' there," he chuckled. "I'm not twelve anymore, Summer, and I'm not a complete dunce."

  "You just let me sit here and be a moron?" Liam laughed. "You are bad."

  "No, no," Harry said quickly. "I just didn't wanna be rude, and I do appreciate the advice. I probably would have draped that thing around me without thinkin', then realized what I'd done and been ticked off."

  "Hey, Harry, don't panic, it's all good. We're just gettin' to know each other."

  "I still don't believe it," Summer muttered. "I'll ask you again, what happened to my little brother?"

  "I grew up a while back, you just didn't notice."

  "We're here," Liam declared as the car pulled into the hotel and rolled to a stop. "We'll be stayin' overnight and goin' to my home tomorrow. You've got your own room, Harry. We'll go there first, and then upstairs so you'll know where the suite is. That's were Summer and I will be."

  "Liam, thanks again for includin' me in all this. It's so great."

  "You're welcome. It really is my pleasure."

  After showing the chauffeur which luggage went where, Liam led Harry and Summer into the hotel and across to the elevators, but Summer's head was beginning to swim. The hotel was even more beautiful than the pictures on the internet had suggested, and she was beginning to feel an onset of fresh nerves. When Liam opened the door to Harry's room, she and Harry stood for a moment, taking it in. They weren't totally sheltered, and Liam's Apple Valley home was far from run-of-the-mill, but neither of them had stayed in a place as luxurious as The Hermitage.

  "This is awesome," Harry finally declared. "It makes me feel like I'm a somebody."

  "You are a somebody. Very few people can play the piano like you can. It's not gonna happen overnight, but your music will get you here one day, you can count on it."

  "Uh, if you say so."

  "Let's go upstairs," Liam suggested. "I'll show you where the suite is."

  "So, they'll just drop off my bag?"

  "Yep, it'll be here when you get back."

  As they headed out Summer curled her fingers around Liam's hand. Harry was that good? He must be if Liam said he was. What about her? Would her singing get her somewhere too? She was beginning to doubt that, along with everything else.

  "You okay, Summer?" Liam asked, sensing a change in her mood.

  "Yes, fine, great," she lied.

  "I think you'll love the suite. It's very comfortable."

  She'd seen the pictures of the Presidential Suite on the hotel's website, but she'd had no idea it was where she'd be staying, and a few minutes later, when Liam opened the door and she walked inside, her heart began to pump even harder than it had been.

  "It's another world," she murmured, and suddenly the burgundy dress with the beaded collar she'd bought on sale at the trendy boutique at the mall in Lawnsdale seemed completely wrong. So did the shoes, and her hair, everything was wrong, it was all horribly wrong.

  "Harry, why don't you explore the hotel," Liam said, feeling Summer's fingers squeezing the life from his hand. "I'd like some alone time with your sister. I'll call you in a little while and let you know the plan for tonight."

  "Yeah, sure."

  "And keep the invitation and pendant with you."

  "Yep, I've got them both in my pocket. See you soon, Summer."

  "Have fun, Harry."

  Waiting until Harry had closed the door behind him, he pulled Summer into his arms.

  "Hey, what's the matter? Talk to me."

  "I'm sorry," she whispered, burying her head into his shoulder. "I just feel…"

  "You just feel what?"

  "I don't know where to begin."

  "Let's lay down for a bit."

  "That sounds good. I think I need to."

  With his arm around her shoulder he guided her through to the bedroom, and as he pulled off his shoes he watched her take off her jacket and unzip her boots. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but her eyes were no longer shining with the happiness he'd seen when they'd met up at the airport.

  "Okay, sugar," he said softly as they stretched out and she snuggled next to him, "why don't you tell me what's botherin' you?"

  "I, uh…"

  "Trust me. I promise the world won't come to an end. What's up?"

  "It's my dress."

  "Your dress?"

  "It won't be good enough."

  "What are you talkin' about?"

  "Just what I said," she muttered, her throat growing hot.

>   "Okay, listen up," he said softly, sitting up and gazing down at her. "You could wear a grungy old burlap sack and you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room."

  "But everyone will be in designer gowns that cost thousands of dollars," she murmured. "I don't want to let you down, and I don't want to feel stupid and embarrassed."

  "Summer, I promise you, at some point in their lives, just about every woman in that room tonight will have felt like you're feelin' right now."

  "You think?"

  "I know. Jeez, I remember goin' to my first Grammy party. I was scared shitless. I remember standin' in front of a mirror changin' ties, then bolero's, and thinkin' nothin' I did was right. I was losin' my mind, but as it turned out no-one gave a rat's ass. They were way more interested in what I had to say than what I was wearin'."

  "It's different for guys."

  "Not that much. We care what other people think, and don't forget, we're always tryin' to catch the eye of gorgeous girls like you. Sure there will be women there in crazy expensive outfits, but every one of them will be jealous as hell, and every one of them will think you look amazin' whatever you're wearin'."

  "You can't possibly know that."

  "Sure I can. You're so damn beautiful you'll turn every head in the place, and you'll be on my arm, and honey, they're gonna love your dress because I'm gonna love your dress, and that's gonna be obvious."

  "Thank you for saying all that, but I feel as if I'm not going to measure up. I can't help it. I want you to be proud of me."

  She was overwhelmed. He wanted to kick himself for not anticipating her reaction. He'd plucked her from Apple Valley, a small town, and brought her to Nashville to attend a big event she knew would be attended by stars and celebrities. What did he expect? He should have told her he'd have a dress waiting for her, and made sure it was a dress in which she'd feel like a princess.

  "I'm gonna make you a promise," he said solemnly, "and I don't make promises lightly. You ready?"

  "Sure, and I'm sorry, Liam. I was so excited, and I'm still excited, I just—"

  "Hush up and listen. By the end of tonight you're gonna be…"

  "I'm going to be what?"

  "I'm thinkin' about how to say this. By the end of tonight you're gonna be very, very happy, and all those insecurities you're feelin' right now, they'll be history. I promise."