“You really think so?”
“You love him don’t you?”
Clara’s shoulders dropped. “I do. I really do.”
“Then it’ll all work out.” She reached her hand across the table and covered Clara’s. “Trust me. I know what I’m talking about.”
Darcy did know what she was talking about. Love could win out over everything if they just worked as a team.
A warmth moved through her. She would get to be there when Warner performed. She thought he should perform his new song, the one he wrote on the back of his eviction notice. The thought made her laugh. He was such a musician. They often got so into what they were doing they never noticed the obvious—such as the notice.
Well, whatever Patricia Little’s purpose was in kicking him out of his home it had worked in Clara’s favor. Warner was more of a Keller than he knew. He belonged with them.
She looked down at her wrist at the infinity tattoo and the word family which was written into the design. Darcy had a matching one as well. The thought made her smile, maybe Warner needed some ink.
Just as the curtain rose on the first act of the musical, Carrie, the ticket counter girl, tapped Clara on the shoulder.
“He’s here. He even bought a ticket and one for tonight.”
Clara turned to her. “You let him buy tickets?”
Carrie smiled. “He was very final about it.”
Clara smiled and gave Carrie a nod. She had told her to watch for him, though she hadn’t expected him to come. Warner should have been writing songs and practicing, but he had even bought a ticket to see her perform.
Suddenly she was more nervous that she’d ever remembered being. At least at last night’s show she knew where he would be. She knew where to look and where not to look. Tonight he hid, among the many reviewers, in the seats of the small but crowded theater.
It shouldn’t be like any other night, so she wasn’t going to let it be.
Soon it was time for her to make her way into Tony’s life and forget about Warner. But in a mere few hours it looked as though she’d be changing careers. She was about to be performer of a whole new kind. She was the voice to Warner’s songs, unless she could convince him that he should be, then she’d be along for the amazing ride.
Warner was possibly in the furthest seat from the stage, but he liked it. This way he could really focus on her and the crowd.
It was hard to focus at all; he had to admit to himself. He had a song running though his head and he needed to get it on paper.
He could have stayed home and worked all day. She hadn’t asked him to come see her, but he’d wanted to. He’d found the review from the man he’d confronted the night before. It was nasty, just as Patricia had promised it would be. But when Clara hit the stage anyone in that audience who had seen the review knew it was all lies.
She was remarkable—though he knew she would be. And next week she’d promised they’d record all week. By the end of the week he’d have his demos. But even that thought wasn’t right anymore. He wanted more.
Oh, having a woman love him and believe in him gave him a whole new lease on life. No longer did he want anyone else to sing his songs. He wanted to sing them. And why not? He was the one who felt them. It would be nice if she’d sing them with him.
After hearing what she and Randy had done to Love Song he simply couldn’t imagine anyone else recording it.
Then he thought about Jordan Farr sitting on Patricia’s couch. He’d thought perhaps the man would have given him a chance. He’d been the only one not to shut the door in Warner’s face. It was no use. He was just going to have to battle Patricia till the bitter end. Only now he wanted to. He had a secret weapon and her name was Clara Keller.
At intermission the lights came up and Warner stood to stretch his legs. The man next to him turned toward him. “Are you Warner Wright?”
His chest tightened and he felt as though he’d been socked in the stomach. “Yes.”
“I thought so.” The man eagerly extended his hand toward him. “Jeremy Smith, with Smith-Parks Entertainment.”
The tightening in his chest continued as he shook the man’s hand. Smith-Parks Entertainment was the company that had first put the Nashville Ex’s on TV, before selling it off to a bigger studio. Warner could feel his jaw tighten.
“I hear you’re a song writer,” Jeremy Smith said with an enthusiastic smile.
“I am.”
“And I hear that Clara Keller is going to be recording your songs.”
This man was good. He had some spies in some pretty remote places. “Yes, that’s the plan. She’ll be the voice on the demo tracks.”
“I’d love to talk to you about a new show I’m putting together. It’ll follow the careers of three different song writers and singers trying to make it to the top. You have a great angle already.”
And there was the catch. The man knew that if he could get Warner on TV and Patricia could get her claws into him even more publicly it would be a TV frenzy.
“Mr. Smith, I appreciate it. But I certainly don’t have the same appeal that Patricia Little does. I don’t think anyone would want to watch me.”
Jeremy Smith’s smile didn’t diminish. He pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Warner. “I hate Patricia Little. If I’d have cast her I’d have kicked her off the show. They hired her after I sold the rights.”
Warner looked at the business card and then back at the man standing before him.
Jeremy reached for his coat which hung over the back of his seat. “Give it some thought. I’ll be in touch. You have a good nature, Warner. I think people would be happy to see it, especially now that they know what kind of bitch you grew up with.”
Jeremy started out of the aisle and turned back. “By the way, I was here last night too. Her performance was spot on and that review that weasel put up about her was phony. I brought a few tonight to write some real reviews.” He gave Warner a wave. “We’ll talk soon.”
Warner looked back down at the card. It was as if he were holding Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket. He could have everything he’d ever wanted if he just didn’t mess it up.
Jeremy Smith hadn’t come back to the vacant seat. Not that Warner had really expected him to.
Now his head was buzzing with the thought of the TV show. That song was still whirling around in his head and Clara was kissing that guy on stage again.
He looked down at the card to take his mind off of that kiss.
When the show was over he poured out of the theater with the rest of the patrons and waited in the lobby. Clara probably didn’t even know he was there, would she know to come find him?
He took out his cell phone, turned it on and the text message pinged in his hand.
I’ll find you when I’ve changed. Thank you for coming.
So the girl at the ticket counter did tell her he was there.
Warner looked up from his phone and a man stood right before him. “Warner Wright? Can I interview you?”
He felt as though he were walking in some alternate universe.
“And you’re?”
“Sorry. Cal Carson. I’m with channel five.”
“Right. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to get your take on the performance and the theater.”
Warner looked at the man, who now held his iPhone out in front of him as a recording device just to catch his voice, but he didn’t have a camera.
“I thought the performance was spectacular.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“What else can I say? The theater puts on top notch entertainment and has since they opened.” He knew because Madeline had made sure to tell him how amazing Clara was as Annie. “The music is superb, the sets are fantastic, and of course the actors were amazing.”
Cal nodded. “Clara Keller. How do you think her performance rated over last night’s performance?”
Ah, there we go he thought. “Both ni
ghts were perfectly executed. Her timing, her voice, her emotional delivery. I can say I’ve never seen Maria done better.”
Cal hit the button on his phone and held out his hand to Warner. “Thank you for your time.”
Warner narrowed his eyes on him. “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”
“Most certainly was.”
He nodded. “Mr. Carson, it was a pleasure.”
Cal Carson walked away as Clara emerged from the door behind him.
“Was that Cal Carson from TV you were just talking to?”
He turned and kissed her cheek. “Yes it was.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted to know what I thought about the performance.”
She bit her lip. “He wanted to know why last night sucked and this one didn’t? Did he want to know why Patricia Little hates me now too?”
Warner ran his tongue over his teeth. “No. I was a little surprised her name didn’t come up at all. I certainly thought it would have.”
“So he only asked you about your thoughts on the show.”
“Yup.”
She grinned that sexy grin he’d been getting used to. “And you told him you thought I was absolutely amazing?”
“I absolutely did.”
“Really, Warner, that’s all that matters.” She rose up on her toes and gave him a gentle kiss. “Okay, I’m starving and I only have an hour to eat.”
“Doesn’t give us much time.”
“Deli around the corner. C’mon.”
Within the hour they were back at the theater, Clara was in her dressing room, and he was standing at the bar, sipping on a soda.
“Sticking around for the next show?” Arianna asked as she moved up next to him.
“Of course.”
She smiled easily. “I wasn’t sure that girl was ever going to fall in love. Looks like the right guy just hadn’t driven by her yet.”
He swallowed hard. “She had a lot of relationships?”
Arianna shook her head and the woman behind the bar handed her a bottle of water. She smiled at her, opened it and took a sip. “No. Clara was always one who was into enjoying her life with no strings attached. She liked her work here. She loves her friends. Her goals were more important.”
That stung Warner in the chest. None of that sounded like the Clara he knew. She was willing to give up everything to sing his songs and get them recorded. His mouth went dry and his took another sip of his soda.
“I’ve seen how she looks at you,” Arianna continued. “I’ve been lucky enough to be part of a family that waits for that perfect person. And when that perfect person comes along we scoop them up.”
“And you think she thinks that about me?”
“I do.”
He felt the heat rise under his collar. “I don’t know that I’m too good for anyone. I’ve never had much of a family.”
“Then it looks like you fell into the right one.” She rested her hand on his. “You fit in with the Kellers just fine.”
She stood and walked toward her office leaving him sitting there. His head spun and his stomach did a funny little flip.
It had only been two weeks and he’d already moved in and told Clara he loved her. Seriously, things never moved like that did they? But in this family they seemed to. In this family that was expected and accepted.
Maybe he’d better think about it really hard.
Was this what he wanted? Not the career or the music, but the woman—the family?
He had to unbutton the top button on his shirt so he could breathe. It was what he wanted and he never knew it was in him to want that. He wanted to marry Clara Keller and make her his. And he wouldn’t suffocate her and make her hate him like his father must have done with Warner’s mother and Patty. He would take care of her and love her. If she still wanted to kiss men on stage, he’d let her, even if he didn’t like it. If he did get that tour bus he’d want her right there with him.
He looked down at his hands. They shook. This was certainly not what he thought he’d be thinking about when he’d awakened this morning. But now he knew what he needed—wanted to do. He had to ask Clara Keller to be his wife.
Chapter Eleven
Clara had slept in on Sunday morning and she felt refreshed. The warmth of the sun touched her skin and the soft sounds of a Sunday morning kept her calm.
But she realized she didn’t hear the soft breathing of the man she loved as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.
She touched his pillow, it was cold. He’d been out of bed for a while. Clara looked at the clock on the night stand, it was ten o’clock.
Well, she couldn’t blame him for getting up and going about his day. She stretched and then rolled out of bed and headed to the shower.
When she was dressed and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she headed downstairs to find Warner. The house was just as quiet downstairs as well. She thought he might be recording or playing in the basement, but the lights were off and no sound came up the stairs. It was then she looked outside and his truck was gone.
It was normal to wonder where he went. There were no notes lying around. She looked at her cell phone on the counter—no text message either. She typed a text on her phone to Warner and hit send. A few moments later his phone buzzed in the front room.
There his phone sat on the table.
Clara blew out a breath. She needed to not get worked up over him not being there. She didn’t have any ownership on him. He was a free man to do what he wanted to do, but a note would have been nice. And damnit, who leaves their phone on the table?
The thought made her settle and laugh. Warner, that’s who.
Wasn’t that what she loved about the man? He was unpredictable and a little off center? He was probably afraid to wake her up and he was down the street writing some song with the dog behind that bent down chain link fence.
He’d come home when he was ready. And as long as that time was before the time they needed to perform, everything would be fine.
But by three o’clock in the afternoon, Clara had grown worried.
There was no one she could call and she had no idea where he might have gone. It was evident she didn’t know this man at all.
She’d cleaned and scrubbed the entire house. She’d called Darcy and acted as if she were just calling to check on wedding plans, but she was sure Darcy saw right through that.
Then she heard the sound of his old truck pulling up in front of the house. It was about damn time. Who did he think he was?
She started for the door, her hand on the knob, and fire burning through her.
Clara swung open the door in a fury only to see a completely uncoordinated Warner trying to carry bags of groceries, what looked like bags of clothes, and a vase with a dozen roses up the front steps.
It was as if water had flooded her veins and the fire in her was gone. She hurried to him.
“Let me help you.”
“Take the roses. Take the roses,” he said as he nearly threw them at her as his fingers gave way.
“Where have you been all day?”
“Shopping. I hate shopping.” He walked up the steps and into the house dropping the bags on the couch.
Clara closed the front door. “Why all the shopping?”
“I thought I’d better have something nice to wear tonight. I only have two pairs of jeans and about four ratty shirts.”
She knew that, she’d done his laundry and she’d tossed out a few things. She looked him over. “You got a haircut too.”
He ran his hand over his hair. “Does it look okay? I think it’s too short.”
Clara set the vase of roses on the coffee table and turned to Warner. She ran her fingers through his newer, more hip, do. “I like it.”
He let out a breath. “Well, really that’s all that matters.”
His shoulders had finally dropped and he seemed more relaxed as he slid his hands to her waist. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I can’t find my
phone.”
“It’s right here on the table.” She nodded to the coffee table where he’d buried the phone with the bags.
“Oh. I should memorize your number. I didn’t know how to get a hold of you. And I should always be able to get hold of you.” His voice softened as he spoke.
“I’ll write it down and put it in the glove compartment of your truck.”
He smiled as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I like how you think.”
“We make a good team.”
She felt him tense as she rested her hands on his chest. He shifted his eyes to hers. “You really think so?”
“I do think so. And tonight we’re going to show them all what a great team we make.”
Warner moved his head back and now looked directly at her. “Tonight we’re going to show them?”
She smiled and rose up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Darcy set it up so that my understudy closes out the run and I’ll be there to perform with my man.”
She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “Wow. They did that for me?”
“For us.” She set herself back on the ground and gave him a hard stare. “I’m in on this Warner. You and me. We’re going to sell more than your songs. We’re going to sell you. You deserve the glory and stardom that come with the lyrics. You’re an amazing song writer and you’re being sold short because of one bitch who won’t shut up when she should.”
His eyes lightened and a smile formed on his lips. “Wow, I really do love you.”
“Don’t tease me now. Because now I’m getting pissy.”
“No. No teasing. It’s just amazing that you’ll do this for me.”
“I told you I love you. I don’t just use those words haphazardly.”
He nodded. “I know. I’ve met your family. You all mean it when you say it and you hold on tight when you find the right person.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Who were you talking to?”
“Most recently your aunt. But what you have comes across loud and clear.”
Clara nodded. “Why the roses?”
His eye brows knitted and then rose as he tried to keep up with her shift in conversation. “They’re for you for closing night.”
Love Songs Page 10