Good Time Bad Boy

by Sonya Clark

  A teller who’d worked here part time for years called out a greeting. Wade turned on his automatic smile and returned the greeting. “Mom in her office?”

  Miss Janine said, “She’s free too, a couple just left. Go on in, she’ll be so excited to see you!” The grandmotherly woman gave him an encouraging smile.

  Wade wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d offered him a lollipop. He’d been coming in this bank since he was a little boy and his mother was a teller. Now she was a loan officer with a sizable office. He knocked lightly on the door then pushed it open. “I need to get my truck fixed. Who do I talk to for a loan?”

  Marlene Sheppard hopped up from behind her desk and rushed at her eldest son. “Wade!” She enveloped him in a hug that warmed him all the way through. “I’ve been waiting for you to come see me. What took you so long?” There was no accusation in her voice, only love and a hint of exasperation.

  “I’m sorry, Momma. You know I get sidetracked easy.”

  She broke the hug, took his face in her hands, and gave him a good hard look. He tried not to squirm beneath her probing gaze but failed. His mother didn’t miss much and wasn’t afraid to tell him what she saw.

  Today was no exception. “You look awful. Are you sleeping?”

  Wade shrugged. “Not always well.”

  “You look puffy too, like you’re drinking too much again. Do we need to get you into rehab again?”

  “Do you and Becky coordinate your attacks or are you two just sharing some freaky telepathic wavelength or something?”

  Marlene swatted his shoulders and stepped away to return to her seat. She waved him into one of the wing chairs in front of her desk. “Becky’s a smart woman. If she’s worried about you, she’s right to be. You’ve been avoiding my calls and emails.”

  Wade swallowed a protest. “You’re looking lovely as ever, Momma.”

  “Thank you, dear. That’s nice of you to notice. Why have you been avoiding me?”

  “I’ve just been busy, that’s all.”

  “Busy getting fired? Or getting other people fired?”

  “Shit, Momma.”

  “Watch your language, boy,” she said good-naturedly. “Chris said he asked you to talk to Randy Tucker. Did you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Right before I came here. We worked things out.”

  “Well?” She looked at him expectedly.

  Wade gritted his teeth. “I’ll be playing at Rocky Top on the weekends this summer.”

  A happy smile lit Marlene’s face. “All summer long?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He figured the less said, the better, since she was clearly in a combative mood. She may have fought with smiles and terms of endearment, but she still drew blood.

  “I’m so glad you’ll be home with us. And all summer long, at that. I think it’s for the best for you right now.”

  Annoyance rankled under his skin and he forgot his decision to keep his mouth shut. “You know I’m an adult, right? I’m forty-one, not fourteen. I don’t need a caretaker.”

  “Any time you feel like acting like an adult, I’m happy to treat you like one.” She softened, concern shadowing her features. “I know Kristin and her husband had another baby. I’m guessing you know it, too.”

  Wade leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I’m happy for her. I mean that.”

  “I know, honey. I am, too. It just made me think, is all.”

  They were both quiet for what felt like a long time. Wade stared at his boots and the frayed hem of his jeans. Over the years he’d seen other people’s relationships with their mothers and always been amazed. Polite conversation, the expected back and forth of two people who knew each other well but hadn’t seen each other in a while, the usual questions and the unsurprising answers – that was not how Wade and his mother related to each other. They saved the small talk for the family dinner table and went right to the bleeding heart of the matter when it was just the two of them. That was the reason he’d been avoiding her, and she knew it.

  He gathered his courage and spoke. “I’m happy that she’s moved on with her life, and so well. I know she loves this guy, Jed, Jared, whatever.”

  Marlene smiled. They both knew that Wade knew his replacement’s name.

  Wade continued. “It’s not that I’m jealous, or that I’m still in love with her. I think my problem is that I never figured out how to move on, too.”

  “You never stopped running long enough to figure out how to live your life again, honey. You’ve been on the road for so long, playing whatever Becky could get you. I wonder if you remember how to live at all.”

  Wade sat back and slapped his knees. “Well, I’m not gonna be on the road this summer.”

  A conspiratorial grin took decades off Marlene’s face that already didn’t look old enough to have a son his age. She tapped her desk with a single manicured nail. “You’re coming for dinner tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “There’s a couple of gyms in town that are real nice. At least one of them was built new since the last time you were here.”

  “You want me to join a gym?”

  “I know where they have an AA meeting at the hospital if you need that.”

  “Alcohol’s not my problem, Momma.”

  “You’re coming to church with us on Sunday.”

  “Damn it, Momma.”

  “Watch your language or I’ll insist on Wednesday nights, as well.”

  Wade laughed, the feel of it soothing and cleansing, as if something cold and hard that had been stuck inside him finally released. “This is gonna be a great summer. Next thing I know you’ll be trying to set me up with some divorced schoolteacher. Maybe a librarian.”

  “Oh, Wade, I may be your mother but even I know better than that.” Her grin widened. “That new gym has a Zumba instructor who might be more your type.”

  Wade rose. “That’s my cue to run far, far away.”

  Marlene stood and came around the desk to embrace him again. “I’m so glad you’re home, honey.”

  She still smelled of the same light floral perfume he recognized from childhood. “Thank you, Momma.”

  She eyed him as he strode to the door. “You may not be glad to be home yet, but I’m hoping you will be.”

  He paused with his hand on the door knob. “Me too, Momma.”

  Chapter 8

  When Randy Tucker called to offer Daisy her job back, she barely managed to wait ten seconds before answering with a resounding yes. To hell with what her mother thought of her working at a bar, Daisy liked Rocky Top and she liked Randy. So she didn’t get along with Josh very well, so what. For a decent job that didn’t make her feel like something was sucking the life out of her, she could deal with Josh.

  What she didn’t count on was having to deal with Wade Sheppard. Apparently this has-been, washed-up country singer, who’d gotten his start at Rocky Top, was now going to play there again on the weekends through the summer. Randy let her keep her original schedule for that week, giving her Tuesday and Wednesday off, so when she came back to open up on Thursday she was greeted by a new poster of the drunk redneck’s smiling face.

  Daisy tried to put it out of her mind as she did her prep work. It jumped back to the forefront when he came in carrying a guitar case. He stopped in the middle of the main room, facing the small stage. She watched him as he took off his sunglasses. The cowboy hat was nowhere in evidence. He wore a gray t-shirt and faded jeans with cowboy boots. He didn’t look like a superstar. He looked like a normal guy. An unusually good looking normal guy, but still normal. He also looked nervous, which didn’t make sense. How could he possibly be nervous about playing in a little place like this? If anything, he should have felt it was beneath him, that he was going backward in his career.

  She braced herself for major diva attitude and approached him. “There’s an amp and a microphone. Some lights. That’s it.”

  Wade continued to stare at the stage. “That much hasn’t chang
ed.”

  Daisy rested her hands on her hips. “You and I need to get some things clear.”

  “What’s that?” He sounded distracted and still wouldn’t look at her.

  “For one thing, you don’t touch me. There’s a lot I’ll put up with working here, but guys putting their hands on me is not one of those things. If you’re gonna be playing here all summer, then we need to get along. So you need to know the ground rules right from the start.”

  “Ground rule number one is no touching.”

  “That’s right. Once I have a problem with somebody, there’s more rules.”

  “Do tell.”

  He wouldn’t look at her. Why the hell wouldn’t he look at her? It was basic courtesy to look at someone when they were talking to you. What the hell was this guy’s problem? “No flirting. At all.”

  “Uh huh. What else?”

  “My name is Daisy. Not darling or sweetheart or baby. You call me Daisy or I don’t answer.”

  “Okay.”

  “And since you’re going to be working here, you fill your own orders. You don’t expect me or any of the other girls to fetch you coffee or whatever. Put in your own meal orders and pick them up. We’re here to wait on the customers, not you.”

  “Get my own coffee. Got it.” He turned to look at her. “Anything else?”

  For several seconds all she could think about was the feel of his hand on her arm the other night, the weight of his flesh and the warmth of his skin. His dark brown eyes were full of shadows, the windows of a haunted house. This was a man who needed sunlight.

  Daisy stepped on that thought before it could go any further. She’d learned the hard way there was no fixing people. People had to fix themselves, and that rarely happened. “I don’t know what you’re used to at the Grand Ole Opry, but you’re not likely to get it here.”

  Wade flashed a heartbreaker of a smile. “I got kicked out of the Opry years ago.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks for all those tips, darlin’. Why don’t you bring me a cup of coffee while I set up.” It wasn’t a request. He let his hand slide down her shoulder blade a few inches before moving away.

  Daisy shook her head in disbelief. “Those weren’t tips, jackass. Those were rules.”

  He propped his guitar case against the back wall of the stage and began to examine the meager equipment. “Well, what can I say? I’m a rebel and I’ll never, ever be any good.” He looked up just long enough to flash that killer smile again. “Two sugars, one creamer.”

  She just got this job back, she wasn’t going to get fired from it twice in one week. So instead of telling him what he could go do with himself, she pointed at the coffee urn behind the waitress station. “Make it yourself.” She turned on her heel to head into the satellite dining room.

  Wade dropped handful of cables and rushed to get in front of her. “Hi.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “My name’s Wade, and I’m a jackass.”

  “Got that right.” She fought the urge to smile.

  “Look, you and I got off on the wrong foot and I’m not helping matters. Let’s start over.”

  Daisy crossed her arms over her chest. “You get one shot.”

  “Tough room.” He mimicked her stance. “Okay, first of all, I’d like to apologize for how I behaved the other night. I had no business putting my hands on you like that and I’m sorry. It was inappropriate and it won’t happen again.”

  “So what was that just now when you put your hand on my shoulder?”

  “That was me being on. I can’t guarantee I’ll always be able to curb that.”

  Being on? What was that supposed to mean? “I don’t get it.”

  “I’m a performer. Being Wade Sheppard on stage is a performance. But the stage doesn’t always end at the footlights. I have to sing in here tonight and I’m trying to wrap my head around that, and I’m not doing a very good job.”

  Daisy considered this for a moment. “So the whole redneck, flirting and calling women darlin’, just generally acting like a pain in the ass, you’re saying that’s an act?”

  He rubbed his thumb across his mouth, drawing her attention to his lips. She snapped her gaze up to his eyes and found that was no less appealing. He said, “It’s more of a persona. I was shy when I started out. Putting on a little bluster helped me get through it.”

  Laughter bubbled out and Daisy threw her hands in the air. “Okay, whatever. Just keep your hands off my ass from now on.” She jerked a thumb at the coffee urn. “And make your own coffee.”

  No way did she believe a man with bedroom eyes and a heartbreaker smile like his could have ever been shy.

  Rocky Top was more of a restaurant and sports bar these days, so musical acts were rare. Once in a while a local singer or band played on the weekends. Some were good, some not so much. Daisy wasn’t much for country. Even so, she knew a good voice when she heard one. As she worked setting down chairs and placing silverware in the smaller dining room, she couldn’t see Wade preparing for tonight. The sound of him tapping on the microphone reached her loud and clear, though. He played something she didn’t recognize on his guitar. At first she ignored it, her mind on other things. Gradually the minor key, bluesy notes cut through her thoughts and she slowed to pay more attention.

  He played the same several bars over and over a few times before singing. By then Daisy had identified the song – Midnight Rider by the Allman Brothers. She ran out of silverware and had to get more from the kitchen, so she crossed the main dining room to retrieve another basket of utensils. All the while trying not to look at him and failing.

  Wade was not doing well. He was doing so badly, in fact, that she wondered if she’d missed the signs of him being drunk. He was missing notes, screwing up lyrics, and cussing a blue streak. No wonder this was what his career had come to.

  Ronisha leaned against the bar and watched the train wreck. “Honey, you can’t mangle George Strait like that in this bar. These old white people will kill you.”

  Daisy laughed.

  “I don’t rehearse well,” Wade insisted. “And I’m nervous.”

  “It’s not like it’s your first time, cowboy.” An evil grin split Ronisha’s pretty face. “But if it helps, just lie back and think of the rodeo.”

  This time Daisy’s laughter was more of a guffaw. She tapped her fist against the bartender’s as she walked by with another basket of silverware.

  “Now who’s being sexually harassed.” Wade grinned, strumming the guitar as he held it in front of him like a shield. “I believe I need to file a complaint.”

  “There’s gonna be a lot of complaints tonight if that’s the best you can do,” Daisy said as she passed him on her way to the other dining room.

  “I deliver when it counts,” Wade said. “Don’t you worry.” With a flourish, he launched into something hard and fast and possibly in the wrong key if the way it scraped against her nerves was any indication.

  Midway through the early dinner rush, Ronisha flagged her down. “Where’s the cowboy?”

  “No idea.”

  “He’s supposed to be up there in five minutes. The Tuckers are at their table. I haven’t seen Chris but their momma’s here. The last time I saw Wade, he was asking where he could change his clothes.”

  “Where’d you send him?”

  “Randy’s office but he’s not there now. I just sent Alonzo to check.” Alonzo was the head cook.

  “I’m due for my break. Have Amber cover my tables and I’ll go look for him.”

  Ronisha nodded as she pulled two draft beers then called Amber’s name. “Daisy’s on break. Can you get these to table fourteen?”

  “Sure thing.” Amber nodded at Daisy.

  Daisy thanked her and looked over the room. At a table right next to Randy Tucker and his wife was Marlene Sheppard. Chris was nowhere to be seen and neither was Wade. She ducked into the smaller dining room for a quick look then checked the sidewalk out front. No Wad
e there either. She hurried to the back and looked in Randy’s office then the small employee break room. One of the young bus boys sat at a table playing a game on his phone.

  “Hey, Toby! Go check the men’s room for Wade Sheppard.”

  “Who the hell’s Wayne Shipper?”

  She grabbed him by the ear and hauled him up. “Wayne Sheppard is the guy who’s supposed to sing tonight. Go check the men’s room.”

  “Is that the guy in the cowboy hat?”

  “Yes, now go, hurry it up.”

  The boy left.

  He had to be here somewhere. And surely he was better than that lackluster rehearsal, otherwise how had he ever made it in Nashville to start with?

  She paced back and forth in the small space, hoping she didn’t have to go check the men’s bathroom herself. If she found Wayne drunk somewhere, she might kill him.

  Wade. His name was Wade.

  Toby returned. “He’s not there. Why’s it so busy tonight? Are the steak’s half price or something?”

  “They’re here to see him.” She rushed from the break room.

  Rocky Top was unusually crowded for a Thursday night. She hadn’t thought anything of it at first, she’d been too busy. But then more and more people started commenting about how excited they were to see Brittain’s own Wade Sheppard. How they’d seen him perform here years ago before he went to Nashville, or they’d seen him at special hometown shows after, or driven hours away to attend his big arena shows at the height of his fame. Over and over she’d heard the chatter, or people talked to her directly.

  Another quick check of the kitchen and even the walk-in freezer, then she opened the dry goods storage room and searched. Finally she didn’t know where else to look so she opened the back door and peered into the alley.

  The sound of vomiting reached her. Shit. Please be sober, please be sober. Daisy ran back to the break room for a bottle of water, then propped the door open and went outside.

  Wade Sheppard was at the end of the alley, knelt over with one hand on the brick wall as he barfed up his supper. Daisy opened the water and thrust it at him when she got to his side. “Are your drunk?”