Hero Worship (Music City Moguls Book 6)

by Cheryl Douglas

  “Uh, how’s school going, buddy?” Clint asked after shooting a sidelong glance in Natasha’s direction. “You mentioned something about a math test last time we talked. You think you did well?”

  Natasha appreciated the change in subject. She needed time to collect her thoughts and figure out how to approach this issue with her son. She wanted Clint and Austin to like each other. She wanted them to be friends and perhaps even someday have the kind of father-son relationship that Austin seemed to long for, but not now.

  By the time they reached the soccer field, Natasha realized she’d zoned out when Austin said, “Mom, did you hear what I said?”

  “I’m sorry, honey. I guess my mind wandered there for a minute,” she said, removing her seat belt. “What did you say?”

  “I said some of the guys on my team asked if they could get Clint’s autograph. Do you think it would be okay if we stuck around for a bit after the game so everyone can meet him?”

  Natasha hated to put Clint on the spot and knew he was too nice to deny her son’s request. “Maybe some other time. Today—”

  “Aww, come on,” Austin said, frowning. “Clint said it was okay.”

  Natasha tried to tamp down her frustration. It was ultimately Clint’s decision since he would be the one entertaining the troops, but she wished Austin had asked her first. Of course, maybe he had and she’d been too out of it to respond. “Fine, but only for a few minutes. We’re going to grab some lunch after the game. Then Clint said he’d give you another guitar lesson. Don’t forget you still have to finish that science project this afternoon.”

  “I will. I promise.” Austin leaned over to kiss her cheek before reaching for the door handle. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

  Natasha watched him run onto the field before his teammates and coaches turned to look in their direction. Natasha waved politely, but she knew they were interested in her companion, not her.

  “Is there a problem?” Clint asked, reaching for her hand.

  “I just worry that Austin’s getting too attached to you.” She winced, remembering how she’d offended him when the subject came up last night. “Not that I don’t want you two to get close—I do. I’m just concerned that he’s fixating on the things that don’t really matter.”

  “Such as?”

  Natasha knew she had to get this off her chest. She just hoped Clint would understand and wouldn’t feel she was being harsh or judgmental about his lifestyle. “You know that we’ve led a pretty simple life out of necessity. But I think it’s taught Austin a lot of valuable lessons about hard work and not judging others simply because of how much they may or may not have.”

  “Tash, I’ve worked hard for everything I have.” He withdrew his hand from hers, wrapping it around the steering wheel. “I had to believe in myself when no one else believed in me. If you’re afraid I don’t have anything to teach Austin about having a good work ethic, you’re wrong.”

  “Oh God,” she said, reaching for his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. That came out all wrong. I know how hard you work and how difficult it must have been for you to make it when the odds were stacked against you.”

  “But?”

  “But Austin’s young and impressionable.” She dropped her hand when she realized his body was still tense and rigid. “I’m afraid he might think that there’s something wrong with the way we’ve been living when he gets a taste of your lifestyle. After that last visit to your ranch, he went on and on for days about the horses and your house, not to mention the game room and—”

  “But that’s just stuff.” Clint sighed. “It doesn’t make me happy or unhappy. I needed a place to live. I feel comfortable on a ranch. I like wide open spaces, and I love riding. I built that house with the family I want to have in mind. End of story.”

  Natasha hated that she couldn’t seem to convey her thoughts without putting Clint on the defensive about his wealth. “I hear what you’re saying, and it’s not that I’m uncomfortable with any of that.” Of course, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with it either, but Clint didn’t have to know that. “I just don’t want Austin to think that there’s anything wrong with living modestly or with the people who do. I don’t want him to start judging people based on what they have or thinking that rich people are somehow better than everyone else.”

  Clint stared at the field as other parents started to arrive, setting up lawn chairs just outside the perimeter. “I always thought working hard and making a lot of money would make things easier when I found the woman I wanted to spend my life with. I never expected it to be such a hindrance.”

  Natasha loved that he saw her as someone he may want to spend his life with, but stifling her feelings for the sake of keeping the peace would result in an unhealthy pattern later on, and she didn’t want to risk that. “It’s not that I think money is the root of all evil, Clint.” Though she knew many people who did. Even her own siblings often made offensive remarks about how wealthy people made their livings.

  “Then what’s the problem?” He sighed. “Money can make all of our lives easier, Tash. You wouldn’t have to live in that rundown apartment building anymore—”

  “I happen to like living there.” She took a deep breath when she heard how defensive she sounded. “It’s close to Austin’s school, my school, work, and my mother. All the things that matter most to me.” She didn’t miss the irritation in his eyes silently calling her out on the fact that she hadn’t included him in that list. “I feel comfortable there, and I’ve worked really hard to make it a nice home for my son. A lot of people like Mrs. Stein live there, seniors on a fixed income or single parents like me, trying to keep a roof over their kids’ heads.”

  “I’m sorry.” He stared out the window. “I didn’t mean to sound like such a snob. I just worry about you. I worry about your safety and Austin’s.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Even if we take your home out of the equation, money could buy a lot of other things that would make your life a hell of a lot easier. If we were together, you wouldn’t have to worry about your tuition anymore. You wouldn’t have to choose between paying bills and buying gifts for your son. And what about Austin’s education?” He glanced at her. “Have you thought about how you’re going to finance that without any help?”

  She knew he was only pointing out the obvious to make her realize that his finances could help far more than they could hurt, but it still bothered her that he was emphasizing the fact that she couldn’t give her son the kind of life he could.

  “I don’t want to offend you,” he said when she remained silent. “I respect you more than you know, but I don’t want this to come between us either.” He rubbed his forehead, tilting his backward baseball cap farther back on his head. “The money isn’t going anywhere, and to be honest, I don’t want it to. Like I told your son, I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor, and I like being rich better. I’m sorry if that makes me sound shallow, but that’s just the way it is.”

  “It doesn’t make you sound shallow,” Natasha said begrudgingly. “I guess this whole thing is just bringing up some insecurities I thought I’d buried a long time ago. When I finally got a job I was proud of at Titan and got an apartment of my own, I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with feeling inadequate again, but dating someone like you is bringing it to the surface. There are a lot of things my son wants that I’ll never be able to give him on my own, and that makes me question myself as a mother.” Natasha hated that she was so close to tears. She wanted Clint to see her as strong and capable, not weak and vulnerable.

  “Listen to me,” Clint said, grasping her chin. “You’re the best damn mother I know. Don’t ever doubt yourself just because you can’t give your son the things that don’t matter. You think when he’s grown he’ll remember whether he had the latest computer or iPod? Hell no. What he’ll remember is that you worked your butt off and were always there for him when he needed you.”

  She reached for him as her eyes filled with tears of appreciation
. He’d said exactly what she needed to hear and put her fears to rest, at least for the time being. Part of being a parent was wading through instability until you found solid ground again, which often happened on a daily basis.

  “I adore you,” he said, staring into her eyes when he finally loosened his grip. “I mean that, Tash. I love everything about you, including your independent streak. But I also want you to realize that we could be better together than either one of us is apart.”

  She’d never thought that Clint may need her. He already had his life together. He had an enviable career, gorgeous home, money in the bank, awards, friends, family. “What could I give you that you don’t already have?”

  “Security. Stability. That deep sense of knowing that someone’s always got my back.” His emotional reaction told her he’d been thinking about this for a long time. “Do you know how many times I’ve been alone in my hotel room after a show, flipping through the channels and feeling lonely as hell, when it hits me that I’ve got no one to call, no one who cares about how my day was or how the show went?”

  “That’s not true,” she said, tracing the soft worn patch on the knee of his jeans with her thumb. “You’ve got a lot of people who care about you.”

  “Sure, I’ve got friends and my brother, but they’ve all got lives of their own. They’ve got jobs to wake up for, kids to raise, problems I can’t begin to understand.” He covered her hand with his, stilling it, before looking at her. “They don’t want to hear a guy who seems to have the world by the tail whine about being lonely. But I do get lonely, Tash. A lot. I’ve never felt more connected to anyone than I do to you, and I don’t want to lose that. So tell me what we can do to put this issue behind us once and for all.”

  “Remind me once in a while that you do need me,” she said, feeling the depth of her love for him growing as she continued to let her guard down. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the one with so much to give and I’m relegated to the role of taker. That’s just not a place I’m comfortable being. I need to know that I’m giving you as much as I’m taking from you.”

  “You’re giving me more.” He cupped her cheek. “You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I go to bed and wake up with a smile now; that hasn’t happened in years. You’ve inspired me to write some of the best material I’ve written, maybe ever, because what I’m feeling for you has awakened something in me that’s been dormant my whole life.”

  She relished his words without questioning his sincerity. There was no need. She saw in his eyes that he meant what he said, and she loved knowing she could trust what he felt for her.

  “I used to hear these amazing love songs that other songwriters put out there and think, ‘Why the hell can’t I write something like that?’ Now I know. It’s because I’d never felt it before. Sure, I wrote a few good tunes about unrequited love, inspired by you incidentally,” he said, smirking. “But I never felt this”—he clutched his chest—“this intangible thing that I can only seem to put into words in a song.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said, heeding the little voice in her head that told her she was safe to break down the remaining walls between them, as she’d watched him do. “I had no idea I could feel like this either.”

  He took her hands. “So let’s agree that we’re not going to waste any more time focusing on things that don’t matter, like my status. We’ll focus on the only thing that does matter: building the kind of relationship that really could go the distance.”

  She smiled, touching his cheek as the rightness of his statement settled deep within her and graced her heart. “I’d like that, Clint.” She kissed him, not caring whether onlookers may judge their public display of affection inappropriate at a kids’ sporting event. The only thing that mattered to her in that moment was what he thought and how he felt about her.

  ***

  Clint had been happy to sign autographs for Austin’s teammates and their parents after the game, but he was even happier to be ensconced in a corner booth at his favorite pizza joint, digging into a deep dish pizza that rivaled Natasha’s.

  “I still can’t believe we beat that team,” Austin said, grinning. “We haven’t beat them all season. You must be good luck, Clint. Think you can come to all my games?”

  Clint chuckled. “I don’t know about all your games, but I’ll come to as many as I can.” He glanced at Natasha, who smiled. Something had shifted between them after their talk in the car. He sensed he’d successfully put her fears to rest and helped bring things into focus.

  “Sorry the guys kept you so long after the game,” Austin said, pulling a pepperoni off his pizza and popping it into his mouth.

  Natasha rolled her eyes. “I don’t know who was worse: the boys or their mothers.”

  Clint grinned as he reached for his second slice of pizza. “You wouldn’t be jealous, now would you, Tash?”

  Austin, who was sitting beside his mother, nudged her in the ribs with his elbow. “I think she was jealous when she saw Mattie’s mom flirting with you. His parents got divorced last year. All the guys think his mom’s hot.”

  Natasha frowned at her son. “I think it’s a little disturbing that you guys talk about anyone’s mother that way.”

  Austin tried to keep a straight face. “Don’t worry, Mom. My friends think you’re hot too.”

  Clint laughed before winking at Natasha, who blushed. “Hey, at least they’ve got good taste.”

  “Oh really?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. “Does that mean you think Mandy’s hot too?”

  “Mandy?” Clint reached for his soft drink. “Can’t say I remember her.”

  “Yeah, right, Clint,” Austin said, taking a swig of his chocolate milk.

  “You’re too young to understand this,” Clint said to Austin, “but you should never make your girl feel she has to compete for you. Some guys get off on it, but it breeds jealousy and insecurity, and that’s poison in a relationship.”

  Natasha smiled at Clint. “He’s a wise man, Austin. You really should listen to him.”

  “Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Girls are more trouble than they’re worth.”

  Clint checked his watch. “By my estimation, you’ll feel that way for another year or so. Then watch out. All hell’s gonna break loose.”

  After they polished off the rest of the pizza, Clint asked Austin, “Have you been practicing those chords I taught you?”

  “Yeah, I even learned another song from watching a video on the Internet. I can’t wait for you to hear it.”

  Natasha smiled, wrapping her arm around her son’s neck. “He’s been practicing all week. I just wish I could get him to put as much effort into memorizing his twelve times tables.”

  “You have a good memory,” Clint said, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “I could tell that after our first lesson. It shouldn’t be too hard for you to learn your times tables. You just have to apply the same determination that you do to your music.”

  Austin grimaced. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not.” Clint leaned forward so just a few inches separated them. “I had this teacher once, tenth-grade English. Everyone thought he was a crotchety old man, but he taught me one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned.”

  “What’s that?” Austin asked, his interest obviously piqued.

  “He taught me the difference between mediocrity and excellence.” Clint let those words sink in. “I used to half-ass it—” He smirked when Natasha frowned over his choice of language. He was pretty sure Austin had heard much worse at school, but he held his tongue for her sake. “Sorry, I meant that I didn’t always give it all I had. I’d rather have been out with my friends than at home reading Shakespeare, so I did the bare minimum to get by.”

  “How’d that work out for you?” Austin asked.

  “I was passing,” Clint said. “But it wasn’t enough to get me into the college I wanted to go to. I kept telling myself that next year, I’d
buckle down and apply myself. Mr. Dorsten pulled me aside one day and told me that the way I showed up in class every day was a good indication of the way I’d show up in life.”

  “Huh?” Austin asked, his eyebrows creasing. “What’d he mean by that?”

  “He meant that if I didn’t learn to give my all to everything I did, even the things I didn’t like, I’d never be the kind of person I aspired to be. He knew about my dreams of becoming a musician. In fact, he was one of the few people who didn’t think I was crazy, and he reminded me that all professional musicians have one thing in common.”

  “What’s that?” Austin asked. “Talent?”

  “Sure.” Clint smiled as he leaned back, lacing his fingers on the tabletop. “Talent is a given, but there’s another common trait most people don’t think about. It’s the pursuit of excellence. Professionals are never satisfied with the status quo. We’re always trying to learn more about our craft so we can make every album better than the last.”

  “Huh,” Austin said, looking thoughtful. “I never thought about that.”

  “There’s a certain pride that comes from doing your best at everything you do.” Clint raised his finger. “That doesn’t mean you have to be the best at everything you do. There’s a distinct difference. Your mom isn’t asking you to be the top student in your class.” He smiled at Natasha. “Though I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t complain if you were. All she’s asking is that you show up every day committed to doing your best. If you develop the habit of giving everything you have to everything you do, when the time comes to pursue your dream, whatever that might be, you’ll have a distinct advantage over all the other people you’re competing against.”

  “That makes sense.” Austin looked at his mother. “Doesn’t it?”

  “It certainly does,” Natasha said, smiling. “I wish I’d thought to express it that way myself.”

  “I’m gonna use the washroom before we leave,” Austin said, sliding out of the booth.