by LuAnn McLane
“You make it sound easy.”
Maria took a drink of her tea and then nodded. “Oh, it’s not one bit easy to tap into your deepest, sometimes darkest, feelings and pour them into a song.” Expressing this to Cat, Maria felt a tug of emotion and then looked down at the menu without really seeing it.
“And that’s what you’ve done?” Cat asked in a quiet tone.
Maria looked up. “Yes. Pretty much, anyway.”
“Then why don’t you consider my songs pure fluff?”
“Well, Cat, not every song can be about heartbreak. Tell me, why did you write about the sand and the sun?”
Cat shrugged. “I love it there. It’s my happy place. Many of the songs were actually written while at the beach, or at the very least I’d had the thought or wish to be sitting in the warm sunshine while enduring the blustery winters in Chicago.”
Maria tapped a fingertip on the speckled table. “Exactly. And your fans feel the same way, I’m sure. Listening to your music brings a smile and the desire to sing along with joy. And joy is a wonderful emotion to express and bring to listeners. Who doesn’t want to fantasize about being at the beach or on a sailboat? Don’t you agree?” Maria smiled when she saw the emotion play on Cat’s face.
“I’ve never thought of it that way.” Her frown suddenly turned into a bright smile and she put a hand to her chest. “Oh my gosh. Thank you for validating me, Maria.”
“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Maria said, then paused when the young server approached them.
“Are you ready to order?” the server cheerfully asked Maria.
“Oh, I’m not sure,” Maria replied and looked at the menu.
“What’s the soup of the day, Courtney?” Cat asked, and Maria thought it was sweet that Cat called her by name. She could tell that Courtney recognized Cat.
“Jessica’s stone soup.”
“Stone soup?” Cat repeated.
Courtney pointed to the menu. “It’s basically beef vegetable soup but named for the folktale about feeding the hungry. The menu explains it; Jessica recently started a charity with the same name. For every bowl of stone soup ordered today, one dollar will be given to the local soup kitchen. Jess does it every Monday, but you can make a donation as well.”
“That’s so cool,” Cat said. “Remind me to leave a donation, so I don’t forget.”
“Yes, that’s wonderful,” Maria agreed. “I’ll have the stone soup and a garden salad with ranch on the side.”
“I’ll have the stone soup as well, but I’d like an order of the hot slaw.”
“Oh, good choice! Gotcha. I’ll bring out yeast rolls in a minute.”
“Courtney recognized you, Cat.”
“I know. I’m going to leave her a note on a napkin.”
“How nice of you.”
Cat shrugged. “It’s not always fun to get hounded for autographs or pictures, but it’s part of the drill and I’m so grateful for my following. I’m just not always comfortable with the recognition.”
“You’re very genuine. I admire your attitude. Not everyone is as gracious as you.”
Cat shrugged. “Doing something like leaving a note is the least I can do.” She smiled at Courtney when she dropped off the basket of rolls. “Those smell amazing. I don’t think there’s anything better than homemade rolls.”
Maria groaned. “I’m going to have to start jogging instead of walking. I can’t pass Grammar’s Bakery down the street without stopping in. By the way, Mabel Grammar has always donated day-old bread and cookies to the soup kitchen. I thought you might like to know.”
Cat reached for a roll. “I believe it’s important to give back.” She slathered on some butter. “I’m starting to like this little town even more. No wonder Mia loves living here.”
“Good thing they’re closed today, or I’d have to get a dozen butter cookies and maybe a cinnamon cake.”
“Yes, who knew cinnamon coffee cake was so delicious?” Cat asked.
“Oh, so you’ve been to Grammar’s Bakery already?” Maria liked that Cat wasn’t reed thin and afraid of carbs. Too many artists worried way too much about weight and gave the wrong message to adoring fans.
Cat paused while Courtney delivered the slaw and salad. “Anything else I can get you?”
“I think we’re good to go,” Maria answered, and Cat nodded.
“Um, well, actually Jeff Greenfield brought one over to me this morning freshly baked by his mother.”
“So you know Jeff?” Maria stabbed a cherry tomato and lightly dipped it into the ranch dressing.
“We met last night when I was attacked by my very own suitcase,” Cat said with a nod. “I remember him being the best man in Addison and Reid’s wedding, but I’d never been formally introduced.” She then took a bite of her hot slaw as if her statement about being attacked by her suitcase was perfectly normal. “Oh, bits of bacon makes everything better, doesn’t it?” She held up a forkful of hot slaw and smiled.
“Wait … Attacked by a suitcase? Okay, seriously, you’ve got to elaborate,” Maria probed.
“You promise not to laugh?”
“Of course.” Maria nodded her agreement, but then starting giggling uncontrollably while Cat weaved the crazy tale. “Oh my …” She sniffed and then dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her napkin. “Do things like suitcase attacks happen to you often?”
“Pretty much. I have ADD and get easily distracted. For example, looking sideways and walking forward isn’t a good idea, but I can’t seem to help myself. I always have bruises in odd places.”
Maria pointed the fork tongs at Cat. “Ah, but being rescued by cutie pie Jeff might be worth a few bumps and bruises, right?”
“No!” Cat scoffed. “He’s one of those traditional country singers who look down their nose at my music. He couldn’t even name one of my songs.” She lifted one shoulder. “Not that I give a fig what Jeff Greenfield thinks,” Cat added, but judging by the sudden pink in Cat’s cheeks, Maria thought otherwise.
Maria reached over and patted Cat’s hand. “But the coffee cake was a nice gesture.”
Cat shrugged again. “I suppose.”
“And he is really cute.”
“If you like the Wrangler-jeans-and-cowboy-boots kind of thing. Or get sucked in by those dimples of his.” Cat gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
“And you don’t and won’t,” Maria said firmly.
“Not on your life,” Cat insisted, but then rolled her eyes. “Okay, I do and I have. Not that he will ever know it and let’s keep this our little secret.”
Maria laughed and made a show of locking her mouth and throwing away the key. “You’re going to be such fun to work with, Cat.”
“Ah … you say that now.”
Maria leaned back when Courtney brought their stone soup. “You know, you’ve got some sass. I think you could pull off some kick-ass lyrics, kind of like Miranda Lambert or Kimberly Perry from the Band Perry.”
“You think so?”
Maria dipped her spoon into the steaming soup. “I do. But you’ve got this sense of humor that I think we can tap into as well.”
“I think most of the time my humor is accidental. I’m like, why are they laughing … ?”
“Oh, Cat.” Maria laughed. “Something tells me you’re much savvier than you’re admitting, but that’s part of your charm. Listen, stage presence is essential to the total package. Today you have to do more than simply stand behind your guitar and sing. Garth Brooks broke that country music mold years ago.”
“I understand what you’re getting at.” Cat nodded. “Taylor Swift has her wardrobe changes. Miranda Lambert has her attitude. Keith Urban has his intense emotion. Luke Bryan has his baseball cap and hip thrusts … but what would be my thing? Please don’t say twerking.”
Maria laughed. “No, definitely not twerking.”
Cat tilted her head to the side. “Do I have a thing?”
“Absolutely. Look, I know that Sweetside R
ecords was trying to make you this sexy beach babe, but it just didn’t seem genuine to me. Am I right?”
“I love the beach,” Cat said. “I wrote the songs so the lyrics are a part of me but in more of a whimsical way … not just the sexy stuff. And it was heading in a direction that made me uncomfortable.”
Maria dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Rick sees so much potential that you haven’t even begun to tap because you’ve been viewed as only one thing. You have so much to offer.”
“I do want to explore so much more,” Cat admitted while she crumbled crackers into her soup. “And I do love songwriting.”
“We will, Cat. But like I explained, there will always be critics.”
“Oh, believe me, I know.”
“Country music, like anything else, has to grow, change, and evolve. Anything that doesn’t, simply withers and dies. I love the classics as much as anybody else and many of them were groundbreakers who were criticized at first. Not everybody took Dolly Parton seriously, and she’s an amazing singer and extremely talented songwriter. Not many people realize she wrote songs like ‘I Will Always Love You.’” Maria tapped her head. “And she’s smart. Look at Willie Nelson. He didn’t really break in until he let his hair grow into that long ponytail.” She scooped up some soup.
“So what do you think my thing is?”
“Your brand?”
Cat nodded.
“We will have to peel away the layers, Cat, and discover who you are and where you want to go with this. You have to connect with the audience. If you truly want to become a legend, your fans will not only love your music but love you as well. But I want your brand, your connection, to be authentic, not something contrived. Do you agree?”
“Totally.”
“Well, then, we’ll start bouncing ideas off each other and then showcase some of our favorites at a songwriting venue. I’m going to talk to Pete about hosting a songwriters’ showcase at Sully’s, much like the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville.”
“Oh, I love the Bluebird Cafe. So many great artists were discovered there. Like Garth Brooks.”
Maria nodded. “Eventually, Rick and I would like to team up with Pete and open Sully’s South up in Restaurant Row, the lovely mall overlooking the river. We will showcase songwriters and new talent. I hope to discover new artists and test songs there. Of course, that’s in the future but it’s on my list of possibilities. I’m even hoping to snag the legendary Bob DiPiero for a session.”
“I adore the idea,” Cat said and then glanced down when her phone beeped. She chuckled.
“What?” Maria asked.
Cat tapped the screen and then handed the phone to Maria. “It’s Jeff Greenfield wearing overalls and sitting on a big green tractor. He’s playing Farmer Jeff for his sister’s educational hayrides for schoolkids. I dared him to wear them and he took me up on it.”
“That boy manages to make bib overalls look good, doesn’t he?” she said and looked at Cat’s reaction.
“I suppose.”
Maria rolled her eyes.
“Okay … he does.”
Maria looked at Cat for a moment and then inspiration hit her like a smack to the back of the head. “Cat … I have, well, an idea.”
“Okay.” As if sensing this was going to be something big, Cat put her spoon down. “Shoot.”
“I could see you and Jeff Greenfield singing a duet.”
Cat leaned back against the booth and nibbled on the inside of her cheek. “Seriously?”
“You’ve got the fan base he needs to boost his career and he has the classic sound you’re looking to break into. I think it’s brilliant.”
“Mark my words, he’ll never agree to it.”
“Why would you say that? It would certainly help his career, and artists teaming up for a song has been popular for a few years now. I loved the Miranda Lambert and Keith Urban duet. Oh, and Taylor Swift and Tim McGraw? Perfect.”
Cat inhaled a deep breath and nodded. “I’m not disagreeing with you, but I had a conversation with Jeff about how we’re both taking control of our careers. I just don’t see him agreeing to do something with me.”
“Well, would you do it?”
Cat swallowed hard. “You mean one song, right?”
Maria nodded. “Yes,” she said, but in reality she could already hear their voices blending in her head. They were both such talented artists but Maria thought they could be amazing together. And country music was hungry for duos. And judging from the reaction Cat had from meeting Jeff, Maria had a pretty good vibe that there was some chemistry there. She smiled. “So let me get this straight. You’re willing, right?”
“Sure, why not?” Cat said with a slight lift of her chin. “Bring it on.”
5
We Can Work It Out
FEELING A BIT OF APPREHENSION AT BEING SUMMONED to Rick Ruleman’s office at My Way Records, Jeff rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out. His new single, “Second Chances,” refused to budge on the Billboard charts, and after the success of “Outta My Mind with Lovin’ You,” the sluggish sales felt like a huge letdown. He suspected that Rick and Maria felt the same way. After inhaling deeply, Jeff raised his fist and rapped on the door.
“Come on in,” Rick called out in his raspy voice.
Jeff opened the door and stepped inside the spacious office, which smelled pleasantly of leather and furniture polish.
“Hey, Jeff, have a seat.” Rick pointed to the chair from his red leather chair behind a huge mahogany desk.
“Hello, Mr. Ruleman.” Jeff nodded at Maria Sully, who sat in a smaller chair bedside the desk. “Ms. Sully.”
“I keep telling you not to be so formal. I think we both feel old enough as it is,” Rick protested with a grin. “Right, Maria?”
“Rick, it’s part of his Southern upbringing. My son, Clint, is the same way. But that being said, I do prefer Maria—and whatever you do, don’t call me ma’am. Now that does make me feel ancient.”
“’Nuf said. Just don’t tell my mama.” Jeff raised both hands in surrender. They were both smiling so he felt his tense muscles relax. “Let me start again. Hey, Rick and Maria.”
“Ah, now that’s more like it.” Once a hard-core rocker with long spiked hair and a beard, Rick Ruleman now sported a short haircut and clean-shaven face. The only thing giving away his past were the tattoos peeking out from his rolled-up sleeves.
Jeff sat down, crossed his ankle over his knee, and waited.
“You’re probably wondering what this is all about.” Rick looked across his desk at him.
Jeff nodded.
“Well, we have an idea,” Rick announced and then glanced over at Maria. “Why don’t you elaborate?”
Jeff felt another twinge of nerves and had trouble not fidgeting in his chair.
“Sure.” Maria shot Jeff a friendly but businesslike smile that reminded him of when his mother would ask him to do something but really meant he had to do it. “We think that it would be an excellent idea for you and Cat Carson to sing a duet. With your slow Southern style and Cat’s sultry voice, your voices will blend well together.”
Jeff glanced at Rick, who added, “And from a business standpoint her popularity will boost record sales.”
“But Cat’s fan base and mine aren’t the same,” Jeff pointed out.
“Exactly.” Rick nodded. “This would benefit you both. Kind of like Taylor Swift and Tim McGraw, but you two have the added benefit of being around the same age so you could include some chemistry onstage and maybe in a music video.”
A music video? Jeff felt unease wash over him and this time he did shift in his chair. “Look, I get where you’re going with this and I really appreciate the effort you’re putting into marketing my music, but I just don’t feel like this is right for me … or my band. Cat just won’t fit in.” He swallowed and added, “And I have to tell you that we’ve already sort of butted heads.”
“Jeff,” Maria said, “you know that we love
your music. But this could be a game changer and benefit you both, not to mention the label.”
Jeff hated feeling guilty. He’d felt that way when he left his family farm and headed to Nashville. “With all due respect, I signed with My Way Records to do things … well, my way. I don’t want … didn’t expect to team up with anyone.” He looked from Rick to Maria while trying to gauge their reaction to his resistance. “Um, what does Cat think about all this, or have you asked her yet?” He couldn’t imagine she would agree.
“I ran it past her,” Maria said. “I’ll admit that she was a tad reluctant. Cat’s got a mind of her own—otherwise she’d still be with Sweetside—but she is willing to do one song with you.” Maria held up her index finger.
For some reason Jeff felt a little bit miffed by Cat’s apparent reluctance, even though he didn’t want to do this either. But still … “One song, huh?” So he wasn’t a big enough star for her? “Do you have a song in mind?” Or was Cat calling the shots?
Maria and Rick exchanged a glance. “‘Second Chances.’”
Jeff sat up straighter. “But we’ve already released it. I don’t get it.”
“It’s not really going anywhere,” Rick pointed out. “We feel strongly enough about Maria’s song to give it another chance, if you’ll pardon the pun.”
“There’s just a spark missing and we think that you and Cat singing together will change all that. After you rehearse we plan on having you sing it together at Sully’s first to get the reaction and if it’s positive we’ll cut another single and re-release it,” Maria explained further. “Kenny Rogers did something similar with ‘Islands in the Stream’ when he teamed up with Dolly Parton. The song was going nowhere until they added Dolly, who was actually right down the street when she got the call to record it with Kenny. So what do you say?”
Jeff felt a flash of irritation at being railroaded. Did he really have a choice? But then he remembered that he was sitting across from a former rock legend and one of the best songwriters in the business. He should be overjoyed at being in a position most new artists would give their eyeteeth for.