* * *
Greer opened the door to the booth, grinning from ear to ear, and walked into Jason’s outstretched arms. His smile spoke volumes. He liked it. What shocked her was she liked it, too. Yes, the song was evocative and moving, but it was as if she was born to sing it.
She felt sheltered, protected in his strong embrace. Her arms tightened around his trim waist. “How did I sound?”
Jason cradled the back of her head. “Incredible. Do you want me to play it back for you?”
Easing back, she met his glowing eyes. “I don’t know.”
His expressive eyebrows lifted a fraction. “What don’t you know?”
“I’m always my harshest critic. I always sang in the school choir, but never as a soloist.”
* * *
Jason resisted the burning urge to kiss Greer because he didn’t trust himself not to stop, especially if she’d pleaded with him to continue. “Well, J. Greer Evans, get used to being a soloist because once you step on stage tonight, everything changes. By the way, how do you want Doug to introduce you?”
“Greer will do.”
He nodded. “Come, baby, and listen to your debut effort. What you’re going to hear is the unedited version without the added electronic accoutrements we sometimes use to enhance and refine a singer’s voice. There aren’t too many Whitney Houstons, Mariah Careys, Christina Aguileras, Beyoncés or Kelly Clarksons who sound the same whether live or on a CD.”
“Which female singers do you really admire?”
“I can never get enough of Gladys Knight, Aretha Franklin, Celine Dion and Lisa Fischer. Her ‘How Can I Ease the Pain’ is one of greatest recordings of all time.”
“I love that song.” Greer sighed.
“Do you want to try it?”
She shook her head. “No, no, no. I don’t have her octave range.”
“That’s where I can make the synthesizer sound as if your voice is hitting the higher notes.”
“That’s cheating.”
“No, it isn’t. We’re living in the wonderful age of electronics.”
Greer rested a hand in the middle of Jason’s back as they sat down together. “Let me hear how I sound on this one, and I’ll let you know if I’m willing to make a feeble attempt to sing diva-extraordinaire Lisa Fischer’s Grammy-award-winning masterpiece.”
“Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you.”
Her gaze moved slowly over his face. “This is very new for me.”
Jason saw indecision in Greer’s eyes. “I understand that, but you should get used to it. You don’t want to be front and center, but as a backup vocalist or session singer, you’re going to be magnificent. Everyone’s going to want to know who is that girl blowing like that? And I’m going to plead the fifth because that’s what you want.”
Greer rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s what I need,” she said, correcting him. Even though Bobby had talked about her taking over the restaurant there was still the matter of her day job. She may have worked for tips at Stella’s but it was the feds that direct deposited her paycheck like clockwork. The ATF would remain her priority until she resigned or retired.
* * *
Greer felt a rush of butterflies in the pit of her stomach as she waited to take the stage. Her confidence at singing to a live audience had escalated once she had heard Jason’s playback. After rehearsing the Lisa Fischer classic megahit with Jason, he’d decided to postpone her singing “I Can’t Make You Love Me” to the following week. He’d made slight alterations to the song to fit her tonality, and the result was amazing.
It was Saturday and date night at Stella’s. The eating establishment and sports bar was filled with couples of all ages, and for the first two hours, ladies were offered half-price Cosmos and margaritas. Greer was shocked when Jason and the band filed into the restaurant. She knew something was different about them—they’d cleaned up. The regulars had trimmed their hair and beards. Tonight they were featuring country, and it had become a sing-along as they played popular hits by Joe Nichols, Keith Urban, Tim McGraw, Chris Young, Darius Rucker and Rascal Flatts. They ended their first set with Kid Rock’s “All Summer Long,” and Greer found herself singing along with the others. Doug sang lead, while Jason and the drummer backed up on the vocals.
Greer smoothed back her hair for what seemed like the umpteenth time. She had brushed it off her face, pinning it in a twist at the nape of her neck. She’d replaced tiny gold studs with large silver hoops. She was dressed in black: stretch pants, matching long-sleeved T-shirt and four-inch black patent leather and suede booties. Her makeup was more dramatic: smoky eyes and shimmering vermillion lip gloss.
“Stop fidgeting, honey bunny,” Bobby admonished. “You look beautiful.”
“I’m not worried about how I look, but how I’m going to sound.”
“You’ll sound great.”
She smiled at her uncle. “You’re biased.”
“Hell, yeah! I have a right to be. I’m so proud of you that I could pop the buttons on my vest.”
Smiling, Greer shook her head. She doubted her uncle could find a vest large enough to close around his massive chest. She rested an arm on his shoulder, recalling what he’d said about going on a diet. Ever since she could remember, Bobby had been literally and figuratively larger than life. His effusive personality coupled with his height and bulk made him a standout. She used to squeal in delight when he picked her up and benched pressed her until her aunt ordered him to “Put that child down before you drop her.”
“Your boyfriend is like a blood transfusion,” Bobby remarked. “It’s been a long time since folks have packed this place on a Saturday night.”
Greer didn’t know what the other Saturdays were like, but she had to admit that, since Jason alternated playing guitar and keyboards, the band was definitely more upbeat. Even the selections were more eclectic, effortlessly crossing genres.
Whistling, applause and stomping followed as the song ended. Doug wiped his face with a towel. He tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gents, we will play one more set before we take a short break. I don’t know how many of you were here for Karaoke Night, but we discovered a diamond in the rough when this pretty lady stepped up to show us what she’d been keeping from everyone. Not only does she have the face of an angel, but a voice to match. It took a little cajoling, but she finally came around and agreed to sing two songs for us tonight. As soon as I introduce her, I plan to turn off the mic because you don’t need to hear what she’s going to say me. I want to end this set with her singing a song that crossed over from country to pop for Lee Ann Womack, ‘I Hope You Dance.’ Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Stella’s songbird, Miss Greer Evans.”
Greer’s hands curled into tight fists as she glared at Doug. How could Jason let him set her up when they hadn’t rehearsed the song?
“Get going, honey bunny,” Bobby urged, giving her a slight shove.
She affected a facetious grin as she wended her way through tables to the stage, wolf whistles following her. She felt the heat of hundreds of pairs of eyes on her as Doug approached her, extended his hand and helped her up the four stairs. Leaning into him, she whispered ribald words for his ears only.
Doug flicked on the microphone. “Y’all wanna know what she just said to me?” Doug shook his head, straight black hair swaying with the motion.
The crowd roared a resounding, “Yes!”
“I can’t tell you,” he drawled teasingly. Resting a hand in the small of Greer’s back, he said in her ear, “The lyrics are on the monitor to the right of the amplifier.”
Greer knew, if she didn’t unclench her teeth, she’d end up with an aching jaw. “Thanks.” She took the hand mic, tapping it softly. Counting slowly to ten, she stared at the crowd staring back at her. Even those playing pool and darts had st
opped to watch.
“Lookin’ good, baby!” a man sitting at the bar shouted.
Greer flashed a smile and lowered her eyes. “Thank you. Is everyone having a good time?” The crowd responded with cheers. “Isn’t this band incredible?” More cheering ensued. She was stalling as much to engage the crowd as to calm her nerves. Walking over the corner of the stage, she pulled the stool closer to the center. She draped her body on the edge, one foot resting on the rung, the other on the stage.
Waiting for the intro to the song, Greer felt herself relax. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reproduce Lee Ann’s distinctive twang so she did the next best thing. Blend country with gospel. The flutters disappeared as did the tightness in her jaw, and her expression softened noticeably.
A shiver raced up her spine when Jason, Doug and the drummer harmonized backup vocals as she sang the hook. Closing her eyes, Greer was swept along with the fluid rhythm and hypnotic, infectious lyrics. It ended; she slipped off the stool and applauded the band. Everyone was on their feet, clapping and whistling.
Jason came over and hugged her. “You were incredible.”
“And I’m going to get you guys for springing this on me.”
“You’re a pro, Greer. You stepped up and killed it.”
“I should kill you and Doug for putting me on the spot with something I hadn’t rehearsed,” she whispered. He flashed his wolfish grin that never failed to make her feel warm all over.
“I knew you could do it.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined.”
Handing him the microphone, she walked off the stage, smiling at those who were still standing and applauding. She slowed when approaching Chase’s table, meeting his eyes when he stood up and clapped with the others.
“Nice job, Greer.”
“Thank you, Chase.” He’d complimented her on her singing while she wanted to tell him she had her eyes on him.
The band took a twenty-minute break, and she retreated to the door leading out to the Dumpsters. Greer had to get away from the frivolity and Jason to clear her head. Every time he smiled, touched or kissed her, she had to call on all of her self-control not to beg him to make love to her. She knew for certain it wasn’t just his celebrity status that drew her to him like sunflowers turning their face to the sun. It was so much more than admiring his musical genius, when he’d easily reproduced any instrument in an orchestra with the synthesizer. She’d spent the night in his house, shared the morning and early afternoon with him, and Greer felt as if she’d known him forever.
What had made her an exceptional special agent was the gift of total recall. If she heard it, she retained it. It’d been her observational skill that she’d needed to hone. There were times when she had believed he was sending her double messages, but it was one statement that had been so profound it was branded in her head like a permanent tattoo: if I were in love with you, then I would protect you at the risk of giving up my own life. And if you loved me enough to marry me, then I would spend the rest of my life making you as happy as I’m certain you’d make me. My family would become your family and your family mine. Our children would be heirs to a dynasty that spans generations. A dynasty that is ever expanding to even greater heights than what my grandfather could or would have ever dreamed.
Greer wondered how many other women he’d told the same thing. How many other women had tried and failed to get him to marry them? What had surprised her was his revelation that she was the first woman, other than female family members, who’d toured, much less slept in, the home he’d proudly dubbed Serenity West. What she couldn’t deny was her attraction to the talented musician. And the attraction was more than admiration. It was physical.
Picking up a block of wood, Greer opened the door, wedging the wood between the door and frame to keep it from self-locking because she didn’t have the key for reentry on her. A small reddish flame caught her attention, and it was then she saw Danny sitting on a wooden box, smoking a cigarette. He jumped up when he saw her.
“Did...did Bob...Bobby send you to look for me?”
“No, Danny. Please sit down and finish your cigarette.” It was the first time Greer heard Danny stutter. Was he uncomfortable being alone with her? “I just came out to get some air.” She inhaled a lungful of crisp, cool nighttime air for affect. “I’m going back inside now.”
Danny dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. “I’m finished.” He bent down, picked up the butt and waited for Greer to precede him.
Greer didn’t know why, but she felt vulnerable. Danny was behind her and, for a man his size, his footsteps were remarkably silent. If it hadn’t been for the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, she would’ve believed she was alone in the alleyway. Her sense of hearing and smell intensified as she slowed her pace, forcing Danny to shorten his stride. In what seemed like an eternity, she finally opened the door to the restaurant.
* * *
Jason returned from the bar with a glass of sparkling water, sitting down across from Chase. “I’m surprised to find you here this late.” It was after ten, and his friend usually departed Stella’s around eight, the same time Jason went on stage with the band.
Chase glanced at his watch. “It is a few hours later than I usually blow this joint, but when I heard that Greer was singing tonight, I decided to hang around.” A rare smile parted his lips. “It looks as if your songbird is the real deal.”
“She is good, but she’s not my songbird, Chase.”
Looking down into a glass half-filled with beer, which he should’ve finished hours ago, Chase stared up at Jason under hooded lids. “You like her, don’t you?”
If the question startled Jason, nothing in his impassive expression was evident. “What’s not to like? She has a killer voice, face and body. Greer is probably every normal man’s ultimate fantasy.”
“I’m not talking about other men, Cole, so stop blowing smoke up my ass.”
A rush of color darkened Jason’s face as he struggled to control his temper. “I told you l like her, so what’s the deal?”
“The deal is, my friend, that I’ve never seen you look at a woman the way you do with Greer.”
“How many women have you seen me with—friend?”
“Enough. You come here at least twice a year, and women are practically throwing their panties at you, but you act as if they don’t exist. You sit in with a band that has too much going for them to play this venue. I’ve told you before to sign them to your label and—
“Hold up, Chase,” Jason interrupted. “Let’s get a few things straight. I’ve recorded Doug and his boys on several of my albums. And I’ve also offered him a contract, but he claims he doesn’t want to be tied down because then he wouldn’t be free to play the wedding, sweet-sixteen, and bar and bat mitzvahs’ circuit. He’s too much like you. Footloose and fancy-free.”
“Doug or the band?”
“Doug is the band. He put it together, and he’s the one who books the gigs. Now back to Greer,” he continued. “There’s nothing going on between us except music.”
“If that’s the case, then you won’t mind if I ask her out?”
Jason froze as if impaled in the back of the neck with a sharp object. Whenever he was tense, the muscles in his neck tightened. It was apparent Chase had called Jason’s bluff. He’d denied there was anything going on between him and Greer, when there was. It had nothing to do with sex, but he knew he was becoming emotionally attached to her. Slumping back in the chair, he regarded the enigmatic man with cold gray eyes. He and Chase had remained friends because Jason respected the other man’s need for privacy.
Jason wanted to tell Chase that he was wasting his time asking Greer out because she’d said he wasn’t her type. “I don’t mind. She’s single and not in a relationship, so she’s fair game.”
A hint of
a smile lifted the corners of Chase’s mouth. “If you’re not doing anything after you finish here, why don’t you and Greer come by my place for a couple hours? It’ll be a good way for me to break the ice with her.”
“The only thing I’m going to promise you is that I’ll ask her. If she says no, then you’ll have your answer.”
Picking up his glass, Chase finished the lukewarm brew. “I’m going to wait to hear her sing again before I leave. If you guys don’t make it to my place by two, then I’ll know she’s not coming.”
After taking a generous swallow of his water, Jason stood up. “Let me try and catch her before we go back on stage.” He scanned the crowd for Greer, finding her at the buffet station with Bobby’s assistant chef. He reached her as Doug and the other band members were returning from their break.
Touching her arm to get her attention, Jason put his mouth to her ear. “Chase wants us to come to his place after closing. Are you all right with that?”
* * *
Greer hesitated, not wanting to believe her stroke of good luck. She didn’t know why he wanted her and Jason to come to his home, but the reason was of little consequence. The fact remained she would be able to observe him on his home turf. She blinked, feigning confusion. “Do you want to go?”
“It’s not about me, Greer. Whenever Chase invites me to his place, I go. It’s you who has to decide whether you want to go.”
A beat passed. “Okay. Tell him yes. I’ll see you later on stage,” Greer said, smiling.
* * *
Greer stood there, watching Jason walk away. Tall, dark and handsome were the epithets that came to mind. He was all that and more. There were other adjectives Greer could come up with, but those were definitely rated triple X.
Chase inviting them to his house couldn’t have come at a better time. She wasn’t scheduled to work Sunday brunch and tomorrow would be the last Sunday Stella’s would serve dinner. She’d come in earlier today and used the restaurant’s computer to make up flyers with the new hours of operation, printing out enough to leave on each table and for the hostess to hand to every customer. Beginning Tuesday, Stella’s would become a buffet-only dining establishment.
Secret Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) Page 14