Mr. Twang_A Fake Relationship Romance

by Kelli Callahan

  “You’re both on the cusp of something here. Your song is getting played and people are loving it. She’s got a new song that’s about to hit and trust me—it’s good.” He nodded enthusiastically and sipped his whiskey.

  “Yeah? What’s it called?” I tilted my head to the side.

  “His Stetson Hat.” Sawyer grinned. “I do believe that’s what you have sitting on your head right now.”

  “So do half the country music stars in Nashville.” I shrugged and sipped my drink. “She could be talking about anyone.”

  “That doesn’t matter. All that really matters is that people think she’s talking about you.” He leaned forward and sat the glass of whiskey on his desk. “You want to get past this part of your career, right? You want people to know who you are and listen to anything you sing—notoriety is the start of that.”

  Lauren Williams was beautiful. I couldn’t deny that. Her gorgeous curves and emerald green eyes had given me a momentary distraction when we met. I had been putting on a show that day, practicing my new accent on everyone I met. The song that got posted on YouTube was good, even if it wasn’t something I would normally listen to. I didn’t like the version Sawyer produced for her. There was no doubt that she was going to be a big deal once she found the right song. She would be riding my success for a moment, but there was a good chance she would have more longevity than me. Getting people to believe we were fucking would probably help us both. There were worse business decisions I could make, like trying to record one of my original songs.

  “Okay, fine.” I sipped my whiskey and exhaled sharply. “How do we do this?”

  “The party I’m throwing this weekend. Obviously, you’re coming, so while Lauren may not be ready to rub elbows with the rest of the artists I represent, we can make it work.” He nodded and reached for his glass. “You two can flirt a little bit, stay in front of the cameras until it gets late, and then head upstairs to one of the bedrooms.”

  “She’s already agreed to this?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

  “Well, not exactly, but she’s thinking it over. I believe she’ll come around to it before the party. She doesn’t want to go back to Texas and I know you don’t want to go back to Chicago as a one-hit wonder.” Sawyer sipped his whiskey and smiled. “Right?”

  “You’re right about that.” I exhaled sharply and nodded. “Okay, I guess I have a new girlfriend.”

  “Not yet.” Sawyer smirked. “But after this weekend, you’ll be on the front page of every country music magazine in Nashville.”

  I went back to the studio and worked on a few more songs since there was still daylight left. The next day, I got a message from Sawyer confirming that Lauren had agreed to be my fake girlfriend. The plan was set, we just had to pull it off. Thinking about Lauren made my thoughts wander back to my last relationship. I had pretty much sworn off ever dating anyone seriously again after that breakup. Lauren was cute enough, but her accent kind of annoyed me when we met. Luckily, we didn’t have to talk much. We just had to stay in front of the press long enough for them to take notice, and then let their imagination do the rest. It was simple. I knew I could make it believable. I hoped she could do the same.

  Okay, Lauren Williams. Let’s see what you got.

  The afternoon of the party approached, and I found myself getting slightly nervous about the whole thing. It was officially in motion once I signed the non-disclosure agreement Sawyer sent over. He said it was to protect the both of us, because we had to protect the integrity of what we were doing. That seemed laughable to me since there wasn’t much integrity in pretending to be in a relationship with someone just to make headlines, but I signed it anyway. It would at least prevent Lauren from releasing a tell-all book or talking to the press about our arrangement if her career took a nosedive. Seeing the agreement and how it was laid out made me question how many relationships in Nashville were nothing more than headlines. I could think of a few that seemed suspect, and Sawyer had represented a few of them.

  Let’s do this.

  I arrived at the party fashionably late. I had a few drinks at a bar before heading over to Sawyer’s place, so I had a mild buzz when I walked in the door. There were a number of country music stars I recognized sitting around talking and members of the press taking photographs. Sawyer allowed them in as long as they didn’t try to interview anyone, and the photographs were worth money since it was rare for anyone to get access to Sawyer’s clients outside of an award show or a scheduled interview. I hadn’t been offered either of those quite yet, but I was fairly certain it was going to happen soon since my song was getting played more and we had a second one on deck. There was even talk of me possibly being nominated for the Rising Star Award if the second song did as well as the first.

  Okay, where the fuck is Lauren?

  I leaned against the wall with a drink and flashed a couple of smiles when cameras were aimed my way. I was ready to take off my hat since it was making my head itch, but Sawyer insisted that I wear it anytime I was in public, and the party qualified. He didn’t even care that proper etiquette would normally require me to remove it since we were indoors. I let my eyes scan the room, wondering if Lauren had decided to be as fashionably late as I had. I finally caught a glimpse of her behind a crowd of people, sitting in a chair by herself. Our eyes met, and I motioned for her to meet me at the bar. She gave a quick nod and stood as I started walking that way. It was time to put on the performance of a lifetime and I felt slightly nervous, but the alcohol helped. I guzzled it down to the ice cubes as I approached the bar, so I would have an excuse for being there.

  “I’ll have a whiskey and get her a refill as well.” I motioned to Lauren. “What’s that, Jack and Coke?”

  “Just Coke.” She smiled and drained the last drops before putting the glass on the bar.

  “Okay, smile and act like I just said something interesting.” I leaned against the bar and looked at her.

  “How delightful.” She twisted her lip into a smile and laughed—it sounded as fake as my accent when I first came to Nashville.

  “No, not like that.” I grumbled and shook my head. “Laugh like you’re flirting, not like you’re listening to Ron White.”

  “Sorry.” The smile faded from her face. “I tried to rehearse this in the mirror.”

  “You should have rehearsed more. Okay, laughter isn’t going to work.” I exhaled sharply and took my drink. “How about a light touch? I’ll start looking out to the crowd while you’re talking, and you put your hand on me so I’m forced to look back.”

  “Okay, sure.” She nodded and started babbling about something, but I feigned disinterest, carefully checking to see if any of the photographers were looking our way as I scanned the crowd.

  “There you go.” I smiled when she placed her hand on my arm and turned back towards her. “See, now you’ve got my attention.”

  “Was anyone watching?” She lightly sipped her soda through a straw and looked up at me.

  “Not yet, we’ll have to talk for a little longer. Each time I look away, just pull my attention back with a light touch.” I turned to look out at the crowd again.

  I finished another drink and got a refill as we talked. The alcohol started coursing through my veins at a faster pace and it was hard to keep my accent as thick as it needed to be. There were people around, so I couldn’t turn it off completely, even though most of them couldn’t hear what we were saying over the roar of the crowd. We sat there talking about nearly an hour until I noticed a few members of the press snapping photographs, so I turned my attention to Lauren and pretended to engage in deep conversation. I mostly talked nonsense and she did the same, but at least it appeared that we were getting to know each other.

  “Okay, I think we’ve got this setup perfectly.” I nodded and finished the drink in my hand. “I’m going upstairs. You sit here for a few minutes and then follow me. Act like you’re trying not to be seen and look around nervously as you’re walking. The guilt sho
uld be plastered all over your face, hidden behind a shy smile.”

  “Got it.” She sighed and nodded.

  I slid off of the stool and let my hand linger on Lauren’s arm, dragging it down to the tip of her fingers before finally turning away. I caught a couple of members of the press watching me as I ascended the stairs. The fake encounter appeared to have caught their interest. I walked to the top of the stairs, opened the bedroom door at the end of the hall, and immediately removed my hat. My part in the charade was done. It was all up to Lauren now. I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. I hoped she would be able to pull it off. She was awkward and shy when we talked, and I was concerned that she wouldn’t be able to do it. When I heard footsteps outside the door, I hopped to my feet and watched as the doorknob turned.

  “Did they buy it? Was anyone watching?” I stared at her inquisitively and blinked a couple of times.

  “I think so—hey, what happened to your accent?” She tilted her head to the side.

  Ah, shit.

  5

  Lauren

  Accompanying Song:

  “Good Girl” by Carrie Underwood

  My heart was beating so hard that I thought it was going to explode as I walked up the stairs for my fake rendezvous with Brendan. It was all a ploy, a plan to get us recognition in the music world, but my emotions were in turmoil. The brief meeting I had with Brendan in the lobby of Sawyer’s office had inspired His Stetson Hat. I could never tell him that, especially since we were just putting on a show, but he did things to me that were more than make-believe. I had never openly flirted with a guy like him before. Usually, it was just an awkward exchange, followed by a date. I could count the number of guys I had kissed on one hand and none of my relationships had went further than that.

  Okay, enough people saw us at the bar and I saw several photographers snapping shots when I made my move towards the stairs, so let’s hope it worked.

  I pushed open the bedroom door and closed it behind me. We were finally alone, and we were going to have to stay trapped in the bedroom at least long enough to make people believe we did more than just tease each other. I had let my parents know about the story and told them not to believe anything they saw in the tabloids, but it still didn’t make the reality any easier. I was going down a dangerous road that promised incredible rewards if we pulled off the charade, but one misstep could damage the both of us, and possibly ruin our budding careers. We had to keep things professional, even if my body was begging for me to add a dose of reality to the headlines we were trying to create.

  “So your accent isn’t real?” I tilted my head to the side when I heard him speak for the first time when we were alone.

  “No.” He took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Just like this relationship, it’s a load of shit.”

  Well that’s one way to destroy any fantasy I was creating in my head.

  “Oh.” I sighed and nodded. “I guess you’re not even from Tennessee?”

  “Nope, I was born and raised in Chicago.” He shrugged and looked up at me. “Brendan Tanner is a persona that Sawyer helped me create when I moved to Nashville.”

  “So your name isn’t even Brendan?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

  “The first name is real.” He smiled and nodded. “What about you? Is your last name really Williams or are you just trying to make people believe you’re related to Hank?”

  “No, that’s my real last name, and there is no relation at all. It’s just a coincidence.” I looked around the room and sighed. “How long do you think we need to stay in here to make it believable?”

  “An hour should do it. I don’t want to get branded as the quickie cowboy.” He smirked and patted the bed. “Why don’t you sit down?”

  “Okay.” I felt my stomach knot up as I walked over and took a seat next to him on the bed.

  “It doesn’t have to be pretend if you don’t want it to be.” He turned his head towards me with a look that almost made my panties melt.

  “What? Like, a real relationship?” I tilted my head to the side.

  Is he actually interested in me?

  “No, screw that shit.” He scoffed and shook his head. “I mean I can really fuck you if you want. You’re cute enough to get me hard.”

  “How romantic…” I slid a couple of inches away from him on the bed. “No, I’m not interested in that at all.”

  Brendan is a jerk—great.

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to think about you in that tight dress when I get home tonight.”

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t.” I pulled the hem of my dress as close to my knees as it would go and scooted even further away from him.

  “You’re nothing special.” He smirked again. “I just haven’t been with anyone in a while, so it’ll have to do.”

  Wow, he’s more than a jerk. He’s an asshole.

  “Thanks, I’m sure this fake relationship is going to be quite enjoyable for both of us.” I shot him an angry glare out of the corner of my eyes.

  “You can think about me too if you want. It’s okay.” He bit down on his bottom lip. “Me and my big… Stetson hat.”

  Oh god, surely he doesn’t know.

  “No, thank you.” I felt my jaw tighten. “I’m sure I can find someone much better to think about than you.”

  The conversation drifted off and I felt myself fuming inside. I regretted agreeing to the fake relationship in the first place if he was going to act like this. I could handle a little flirting, and I wasn’t so innocent than a few sexy words would make my legs snap shut completely, but Brendan had turned my slight bit of interest into total disinterest with one conversation. He might have been ungodly attractive, but that was all he had going for him. The man underneath the Stetson hat was as bad as the guys I dated back in Texas—he might even be worse than Billy. At least Billy had the courtesy of taking me out on a date before he tried to get in my panties. Brendan treated sex like it was nothing more than a game. A game I no longer wanted to play.

  “Okay, it’s probably been long enough.” He turned towards me again. “We need to mess up your hair a little bit and your dress needs to look like it’s been on the floor since you came upstairs. Make it look like you tried to fix it, though.”

  “Fine.” I stood and ran my fingers through my hair a few times as I shook my head. “Is that good enough?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Brendan stood and ripped the top button of his shirt with a quick tug. “Look at that, you’re a little crazy when you get turned on.”

  “I think that was uncalled for.” I twisted and bunched up my dress, making it look like it had been hurriedly put back on.

  “Even crazier than I expected.” He popped another button and grinned.

  “That’s enough—seriously.” I glared at him and walked to the mirror.

  Brendan untucked his shirt from his waist and then hurriedly stuffed it back in while I checked myself out in the mirror. I caught a glimpse of his tight abdominal muscles peeking out the bottom of his shirt as he readjusted it. Even if he was an asshole, it was hard to ignore how attractive he was. Once both of our attires looked like they had seen better days, he put on his Stetson hat and walked to the door. I followed behind him, expecting him to at least hold it open for me, but he just left. By the time I exited the room, he was walking back down the stairs. I waited for a few minutes like I had before I left the bar, and then headed back to the party. I stayed long enough for the paparazzi to get a few shots, and then I decided to go home. My nerves were shot and I was long past the point of regretting the agreement as my mind started to process exactly what it would mean when the story made headlines.

  One month later

  The tabloids played right into Sawyer’s hands. The day after we pretended to hook up at the party, my face was on every country music gossip website. I didn’t even have a name at first. I was just a mysterious blonde woman that Brendan Tanner might be dating. We staged severa
l more dates after that, going out to dinner together, and then ending the night as his apartment. As soon as we walked through the front door of the building, I ran to the back door where my car had been parked earlier in the day. The charade started to take flight quickly. Once someone recognized me as the YouTube girl that sang Shattered Heart, my name was right there alongside Brendan’s on the gossip websites. His Stetson Hat hit the airwaves and within a week, it was already threatening to break into the top twenty.

  “How long do we have to keep doing this?” I sat down next to Brendan in Sawyer’s office. “We’ve created the buzz you were after, so can’t we just go our separate ways?”

  “Tired of me so soon, darling?” Brendan smirked and winked.

  “You can drop the accent, asshole.” I glared at him. “Sawyer knows you’re full of shit just like I do.”

  “I’m trying to make it a permanent thing. The ladies love it.” He grinned and turned towards Sawyer. “But seriously, how quickly can I dump this chick and start hooking up with some of the fangirls that want to heal my broken heart?”

  “We need to get both of your albums out first.” Sawyer nodded and pushed a piece of paper to the edge of his desk. “The early sales projection are great. Let’s not shatter the fantasy before we get both of you established in the country music world.”

  “All right, well I’ve got two tracks to record, so I’m heading to the studio. See you later, sweetheart.” He winked at me and walked towards the door.

  “Go to hell.” I muttered under my breath and grumbled.

  “Loving you is hell.” He chuckled. “Hey, maybe that’ll be my breakup song. It might even be more popular than Shattered Heart.”

  “I’m sorry, Lauren. I know this isn’t what you envisioned when you came to Nashville.” Sawyer exhaled sharply once Brendan left his office.

  “It wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t such an asshole! I mean, he doesn’t even treat me like a human being half the time! When he does, he’s just telling me he wants add an authentic flair to our relationship by really taking me to bed.” My words came out like an explosion of bottled frustration.