Southern Rocker Chick

by Ginger Voight

  My brain was so fuzzy that I could hardly think of a song. My voice was shaky and raspy as I started to sing. I felt him shudder against me. He kissed his way down my chest, opening each button on the white shirt I wore for work.

  Work, I thought suddenly. I tried to sit up. “I need to get back to the bar,” I said.

  He shook his head and looked me dead in the eye. “You’re no longer employed as a bartender for Southern Nights,” he said. “You’re the new backup singer for the Hollis Five.” Again he left no room for argument. “Now sing.”

  I shuddered. Tony Paul was crashing against my senses like a lightning storm. My body was on fire and my mind was racing. He was making a lot of heady promises I knew better than to trust. He could have been lying about the singing gig, fully prepared to fire me after he had his way with me in the ultimate act of revenge. But my thoughts clouded when his mouth made its way to my breast. Instead of bolting like I normally would have, I melted under his touch. It felt so good to be held, to be kissed… to be loved.

  It was everything I had ever wanted.

  When he whispered, “Sing,” again, I didn’t deny him. I sang softly as he exposed my breast and sucked it deep into his mouth. My voice cracked with every gasp, but I kept going, even as he kissed his way down my abdomen. My head fell back as he parted my legs and knelt in between, kissing his way up my thighs, pushing the denim skirt out of the way to inch his way closer to my dampened underwear. He blew air against me, which made me shiver hard. He used his fingers to stimulate me for a long agonizing minute before he pushed the cotton fabric aside, exposing me to his mouth. I gasped out loud as he dove his face between my legs, his tongue swirling around the painfully erect clit relentlessly until I was coming hard. I grasped his hair in my hands, shoving him further into me as he kept going. He penetrated me with a probing finger as he sucked me into his mouth. I thought I would literally cry from pleasure as I came a second time. I fell back on the sofa, unable to speak or move.

  Tony Paul crawled up my body and rested his weight against me. I felt how hard he was in his jeans. My eyes opened wide as I stared at him. “Are we… are you…?”

  He shook his head. “Your first time isn’t going to be on some ratty old couch,” he said before he kissed me again.

  “You know?”

  “Sweet Lacy,” he said as he ran his fingertip along the line of my chin. “I’ve always known.” He kissed me again. Finally he pulled away, his rock hard erection visible through his tight jeans. He pulled me up by the hand. “Show up tomorrow at three. Dress casual. We’ll figure out your wardrobe later.”

  I was flabbergasted. “You were serious?”

  He was surprised I was surprised. “You’ve heard my sister sing, right?”

  “Well… yeah.” I was hesitant to speak ill of her in any way. She was my friend after all.

  “So now we have a backup singer whose mic will be on.” He kissed me again. “See you at three.”

  Chapter Seven

  I was uncertain if Tony Paul was telling the truth right up until I arrived at Southern Nights the next afternoon at three. I brought my uniform, just in case.

  But the bouncer on duty ushered me in where the band was setting up for rehearsal. Gay was there, as was Jacinda. Neither looked overly thrilled to see me. In fact, both wore their skepticism of my new role in the club quite openly.

  Tony Paul jumped down from the stage and walked over to me. “There she is.” He took me by the arm and guided me to the stage.

  Gay faced me. “So Tony Paul says you can sing.”

  I shrugged. “A little.”

  “Good¸” she said. “That’s what a backup singer is for.” She handed me a microphone. “You’ve heard the songs. You know the drill.”

  My eyes widened as I watched everyone take their place. Tony Paul lifted me up on stage before vaulting up to join me. Gay announced the song, giving everyone a few beats to get ready. I jumped when the music began. It was much louder on stage than behind the bar fifty feet away. Tony Paul turned to face me, pointing to both Jacinda and I when he wanted us to sing our parts. I knew that was more for me than for Jacinda, but he was putting her through her paces anyway.

  She barely looked at me.

  When I sang my part, I realized that the microphone was turned off. I flipped it over to turn it on, but it was unresponsive. I glanced at Tony Paul, he motioned to sing louder instead. So I did, though I hated how my voice overshadowed Jacinda’s. She sounded like a baby bird in comparison. I chalked it up to experience. I knew how to project my voice and I had the confidence to do it. Maybe now, if I really was in the band, I could develop my friendship with her further and then I could teach her how to sing from the diaphragm.

  The song ended and we turned to Gay, who nodded her head. She pointed to me and motioned to follow her up to her office. I was shaking in my shoes as she closed the door behind me. This was where I either got a new gig or I got my walking papers.

  “Sit down, Lacy,” she said as she walked around her desk. I complied. She folded her hands on top of the desk and looked me directly in the eye. “So I see you weren’t completely honest with me in the beginning.”

  I gulped. My words came fast, which sounded even more like an excuse. “I didn’t lie. I hadn’t sung in a really long time and I had no intention of doing it when I came here.”

  Her eyebrow arched. She clearly didn’t believe me. “Didn’t you?” She let the question hang in the air before she went on. “Tony Paul has made it clear that he wants you in the band. As he is the leader of the Hollis Five, I’m going to allow it based on his recommendation alone.” She curbed any jubilation over her announcement by adding, “But let me just speak frankly. This is a family band and you’re an outsider. We don’t know you and, after your duplicitous behavior, I’m not entirely sure I can trust you. You get another ninety days to prove to me that you belong with this family in this band.”

  I knew the same criteria for the bartender position wouldn’t apply to the talent. “So what rules am I supposed to adhere to?”

  “I’m so glad you asked,” she said. “Number one, you can’t out-sing Jacinda. You have a more powerful voice. It’s easy to overshadow those with lighter, more ethereal voices. You have to be equal, or you’re not part of the backup singers at all.”

  I nodded, though I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to abide by the rule. If Tony Paul asked me to sing, like he had earlier, I couldn’t just ignore the command.

  “Number two, I get to pick the wardrobe. You wear what I give you to wear. No arguments.”

  I thought about Jacinda and her ever-shortening skirt. I shook my head. On this issue I couldn’t budge. I rose to my feet. “I’m sorry, Gay. I can’t do that. I won’t. And if that’s what you need, I don’t think this band is the right fit for me.”

  “Neither do I,” she snipped. “Now sit down.”

  I leveled my eyes on her as I sat slowly.

  “Number three, and most important, you don’t fuck up my son’s life.”

  My eyes widened as I stared at her. “And just how would I do that?”

  “I’m not a fool,” she snapped. “I’ve seen the whole thing growing for months.” She sighed. “It’s my fault. I put you on the shelf and told him no. It’s only natural he’d want the forbidden fruit most of all. And I’ve seen the way you look at him. He strips on stage and you can barely take your eyes off of him.”

  I blushed and looked away. What an odd conversation to have with someone’s mother.

  “You’re two fully grown adults. I can’t stop you from fooling around. But let me tell you this,” she said in a deadly tone as she leaned over her desk. “That’s all it will ever be. You want some white picket fence or some famous baby daddy, you can just keep walking. Tony Paul is destined for great things in his future. I won’t have anyone get in the way of that. This won’t end like things ended with your father.”

  Her eyes bore into mine as I gasped out loud. “How did you
know about that?” I asked.

  She chuckled. “Doyle Quinlan may be my competition but we belong to the same club. You screw over one of us, you are known by all of us. Why do you think that you couldn’t find work again after he caught you lying about your age?”

  My throat constricted as I stared at her. So this was why she had never trusted me. She had known who I was from the beginning, and formed her opinions accordingly. Worse, I knew by looking into those icy eyes that I would never change her mind. Again I rose to my feet. “Let me save you some worry, then. Thanks for letting me work here three months, but I’ll take my final check and get out of your hair. No muss, no fuss.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Tell me something. Are you really that foolish? I mean, I know you’re young. But I never would have guessed you were naïve, too.”

  “Really?” I echoed. “You’re going to threaten me and then berate me for giving you the very thing that you want?”

  “You don’t know what I want,” she said.

  “You clearly don’t want me,” I shot back.

  “Is that so?” She reached into her desk and pulled out a contract before she slipped it across the desk. I sank back into the seat to read it. It was a contract to sing in the band for a year, for triple what I was making behind the bar. “You’ll note I made that contract out for a year and not three months. Sounds like the actions of someone who believes you might actually succeed.”

  I didn’t know what to make of any of it. “So why are you so surly to me?” I finally asked.

  It was her turn to sigh as she leaned back in her chair. “To you, Tony Paul is just another guy. To you, this is just another band. To me, this is my family. And I’ll do whatever I need to do to protect my family. That, by the way, includes you once you prove yourself to me.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  “Show up. Work hard. Treat the people I love with dignity and respect. You do that and you’ll win my loyalty for life. You fall short and we’re going to have some problems.” She grabbed a pen from the holder and held it out to me. “So are you in or are you out?”

  I shook my head as I stared at the rate of pay scratched onto a sticky note on top of the contract. Turning down that kind of money was insanity. I couldn’t make that anywhere else in the city with my limited skillset. If it were me alone, I would have already signed the damn thing.

  But I knew that I’d have a devil of a time convincing my mother it was the right course of action. “Can I think about it?”

  She pursed her lips as she studied me. “Fine,” she finally said. “You have till eight o’clock tonight. Otherwise I’ll take your delay as the actions of someone who doesn’t want to give 110% to the Hollis Five. You really think you’re the only pretty singer in town?”

  I gulped. I had waited years for my window of opportunity to open, only to find it was about to slam shut right on my head. I took the contract and headed back home.

  Now that Mama didn’t have to work split-shifts anymore, I knew she’d be relaxing at home that Sunday evening. She had her feet up in the recliner, petting her newest rescue pup, Crystal, a Maltese mix, who sat faithfully right at her side.

  We fostered animals when we could, since owning any in our financial situation wasn’t necessarily prudent. And Mama had fallen head over heels for Crystal almost from the moment they met.

  Mama never dated and I suspected she was really lonely deep down. She fostered dogs to alleviate that loneliness, especially once I started working. I wondered sometimes if she opted to foster simply because the commitment of adopting a dog scared her silly. It wasn’t just the expense or the responsibility. With a pet came certain heartbreak when one had to say goodbye.

  I knew nothing scared Mama more. She had more than her fair share of heartbreak and goodbyes in her life. She barely let sunshine through the window, simply because she was terrified of the rain.

  For Mama, it always rained.

  It made me all the more committed to taking the job. With that kind of money she wouldn’t have to work at all. I could take care of her for a change, and give her the things that she was too afraid to have on her own – even something simple, like a dog. Suddenly that was all I wanted to do. I plastered a happy smile on my face as I perched on the sofa next to her recliner.

  “You’re looking smug,” she murmured.

  “Not so much smug as terrified. I have something to tell you. It doesn’t sound like a good thing at first, but if you just think it over, I’m sure you’ll realize like I did that it’s the best thing for us.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she sat up. “No,” she said immediately, scooting Crystal from her lap so that she could head into the kitchen.

  “Mama, you don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

  She whirled around. “Don’t I? You don’t think I’ve seen this exact look before? Or heard this exact speech before? Let me guess. There’s such big money and big opportunity that you just can’t say no.”

  I fished the contract from my purse and handed it to her. “Exactly.”

  When she saw the number she stumbled backward toward one of the kitchen chairs. I caught her wrist and helped her sit. She gasped, then sputtered, then coughed until she was almost blue in the face. She waved me away so I wouldn’t fuss over her and then grabbed her pack of cigarettes. She lit one up with a shaking hand. “Well, I gotta hand it to you, Lacy. Lucas never brought home a number like that.”

  “I know, right? This is why I can’t say no. With this money, I could support you for a change.”

  “No one supports me,” Mama said as she rose from the chair to pace. “I know I’m going to regret asking this but what exactly are they having you do for that kind of money?”

  “Just sing backup,” I answered.

  Her skeptical eyes narrowed. “That’s a lot of money for singing backup, Lacy.”

  “Southern Nights is the biggest nightclub in Austin, Mama. They’re world renowned. They are trusted star-makers. And this is the house band. I’d be performing at least five nights a week, no matter who comes to perform.”

  She shook her head. “How can you be sure you’ll be safe there? That there isn’t another Doyle Quinlan lurking in the shadows somewhere?”

  I gulped, thinking about the conversation with Gay that afternoon regarding Doyle. Despite her knowing the bullshit story he peddled, I knew she wasn’t as amoral as he was. I’d worked at Southern Night for three months. She may not have trusted me, but I knew I could trust her. “Because Gay Hollis is one of the most successful businesswomen in Texas. The talent is fully protected by a host of bouncers and security personnel. And I’ve never seen anything sketchy in front of, on or back behind the stage.”

  I shuddered as I thought of that sofa in the dressing room, and Tony Paul’s hands, his mouth and his tongue. I would never share that with Mama, though. It was a major victory we were still talking about the possibility of singing in a club. I didn’t want to wreck it by telling her I was increasingly infatuated with one of my band mates.

  “I tell you what. I’m on probation for the next ninety days, to see if I’m a good fit with the band. How about I put them on one, too? If I see anything, I mean anything, fishy, then I quit.”

  “That’s a contract,” she pointed out. “You can’t just quit. Let me see that.”

  I handed it to her and she read it silently and thoroughly front to back. “You can’t sign this,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  She pointed to a section. “She wants exclusivity for a year. You can’t sing anywhere else. You can’t work with anyone else. Any bigger offers have to go through her, and she’d get a cut because technically, you’re part of the Southern Nights brand. Your marketing image, any music you write, all that would be the property of the club.”

  I shrugged. “So what? I have no plans to go anywhere else. It’s just a job with one year’s job security. What difference does it make?”

  Her brow arched. “I
t makes quite a difference, actually. This isn’t just you performing at her venue, like a regular contract.” She headed over to the old roll-top desk in the corner of the kitchen. It was cluttered with tons of paper. She thumbed through what seemed like hundreds of pages before she withdrew another legal contract, one of Lucas’s old contracts with another venue. She gave it to me to compare. “Your contract gives her rights to act as your agent, with an option to renew at her discretion. So it’s not just one year. It could be two years or five years or as long as she gets something out of it. Do you trust this woman to have that much power over your career?”

  “Yes,” I said softly. There was a reason Lucas Abernathy had long aspired to play at Southern Nights. I had seen what Gay had created firsthand. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. This wasn’t shady deals and schlepping from dive to dive just to earn peanuts. This was a chance to be seen on one of the most important stages in Texas.

  Mama sighed and poured herself into the chair at the table. “She’s taking advantage of you, honey. I know you can’t see that through the stars in your eyes, but I guarantee you that she wouldn’t give this contract on anyone with any knowledge of the business.”

  I perched on my knees on the floor in front of her. “I know you’re worried, but I’m not like Daddy,” I said. I hadn’t used the word in years, and it felt foreign on my tongue now. “I’m not in it for the fame and glory. I just want to collect a check for doing what I love – the only thing I’ve ever done that meant anything. Gay can make that happen for me.”

  She caressed my face. “Oh, honey. You can lie to me but don’t lie to yourself. You’ll only get hurt.”