by Sylvia Fox
“Less than a man” was the last thing Robert Cavanaugh could ever be. He was all man; distilled, intoxicating masculinity.
My eyes slowly drank him in from the floor to his face, and I bit my bottom lip and nodded my head. There was the strangest electricity between us, an unspoken hunger that I felt for him and that, unless my mind was playing tricks on me, was being reciprocated.
I thanked him and headed downstairs for toast and juice. He followed within minutes, approaching me stealthily from behind. He put his hand on the small of my back, right above my ass, and for the briefest moment the flesh of his hand touched the bare flesh of the small of my back where my shirt had ridden up.
Goosebumps.
“Ready to go?”
We went outside and I found the car Ian had sent and politely declined the ride. Robert took me to the studio, where we discovered Ian outside, walking a pot-bellied pig on a leash.
“Good morning, Lia. Meet Hector.”
I’d been around plenty of pigs, but Hector had to be the cutest. He had black splotches on his tan hide, and he was the friendliest little butterball I’d ever met. I knelt and scratched his head hello.
My Claiborne County escort just shook his head in disbelief. Pigs were commonplace back home. Pigs on leashes, being taken for walks down city streets, decidedly less so.
Ian and Hector led me inside, where Ian put me through a grueling set of vocal calisthenics before having me sing two selections, one an old Whitney Houston song and the other an original piece he told me he’d been working on and finished writing the night before, after listening to me sing. The way he made it sound, he’d written at least part of it specifically for me and my voice. I thought I might cry.
Hector sat patiently on the stool next to Ian throughout our session. By the end, I had recorded, mixed, produced, two polished, professional-sounding songs. I was always my harshest critic, but they sounded nearly flawless. I couldn’t imagine putting together a stronger two-song demo.
“You go back to your room and relax, or go get some lunch, enjoy Nashville for a while. I’ll play this for the suits. Trust me, they’ll be impressed,” Ian assured me.
We met Shelby and her parents for lunch and then we explored Music Row together. The vibe of Nashville inspired me and I felt giddy. I wondered if Cinderella had felt half as excited when she was invited to the ball.
Just after 3:00 PM, my phone rang.
“Hey Lia, this is Ashleigh Thomas from Vidas. Ian played the demos you cut this morning for me and the A&R people.” Her voice betrayed nothing.
“Oh?”
“Yes. And I have good news and bad news. How do you want it?”
I felt the color drain from my face, along with my smile. Shelby was almost jumping up and down with anticipation. I held out my hand parallel to the ground and tilted it up and down.
“I guess the bad news first?”
“Okay. The bad news is that Ian isn’t available to produce your album until the Fall, and that’s after school starts. So, if you want to work with him, you’ll have to wait a few months. But that’s not all bad, because I’d expect song selection to take a while, anyway.”
“Wait, what?” The words she spoke were stuck in a spin cycle in my head. I thought I understood, but it was like reading a page in a book with every third word blacked out.
Ashleigh laughed on the other end of the line.
“You’ve been offered a record contract. In fact, it seems there will be a bidding war to sign you. Between yesterday and today, they were very impressed.”
I mouthed, “Oh. My. God.” To Shelby. She pantomimed pounding on me with her balled fists. She was dying to hear my news.
“Thank you, I guess? I don’t know what to say. I’m just… wow. Thank you.” I knew I sounded ridiculous, but I felt entirely out of my depth and whatever the opposite of “cool” is. Times a million.
“No, Lia, thank you. Your sound is so distinct, so fresh, we’re all so excited to work with you,” Ashleigh responded.
“What do we do now?
“I’d say we celebrate! I reserved a room for us at Dewey’s. Does 7:00 work for you? Vidas will take care of everything.”
Dewey’s was a well-known, high-end steakhouse and barbecue restaurant just off Music Row, where Nashville’s movers and shakers hung out. We’d walked past it earlier in the afternoon and Shelby’s folks looked at the menu before walking away, laughing. The prices were ridiculous. Two limousines were parked out front when we were there.
“That sounds great. Yes. Thank you, thank you so much,” I gushed.
“You’re adorable, Lia. We’ll see you there tonight. The room will be under your name. See you then.”
17
We dressed the best our traveling wardrobes allowed, heels and dresses for the ladies, a suit for Shelby’s dad, Ben, and for Mr. Cavanaugh. I’d never seen Robert so dressed up, in fact I’d have bet money that he didn’t even own a suit, but he’d packed one, a charcoal grey number with a maroon tie.
He filled out a suit very nicely.
When he first saw me, his eyes widened. He was impressed, and I did a pirouette.
“I’ll be, Liane,” Robert remarked. “You’re the spitting image of your beautiful Momma when she was your age. I just can’t get over the resemblance.”
“Thank you, Mr. C. I wish she and Daddy could be here tonight.”
“So do I, darling. So do I.”
We’d called my dad to invite him, but I didn’t expect him to come, whether he was working or not. He hated big cities, and to him, Nashville might as well be New York. He was excited as could be for me, but he politely declined the invitation.
We corralled a passerby into taking a group photo of us in front of our hotel, and we looked good. Smiles all around. For a bunch of hillbillies, we cleaned up nicely.
People milled about in front of Dewey’s, waiting for their tables or a spot at the bar. I slipped through the crowd of people dressed in cowboy hats, big belt buckles, and boots, and gave my name at the podium near the front door. The hostess seemed delighted and led our group inside.
Framed records and country music memorabilia such as microphones and guitars covered the wall. The place seemed almost like a country music hall of fame. As we navigated through the crowd, Shelby tugged at my arm.
“Lia, isn’t that Brantley Gilbert?”
Shelby pointed to a guy at a table to my right sitting with two other guys around his age. I couldn’t be sure, but if it wasn’t the country music star, it could have been his brother.
“Maybe, I don’t know. This place is crazy!”
Shelby then pointed to a woman with curly blonde hair walking toward the bar. “Little Big Town! I’d recognize her hair anywhere!”
She was right this time, I had no doubt. I grabbed her hand and squeezed. We were in way over our heads.
The hostess arrived through a set of ornate, swinging doors and pushed the right side open. A long table was inside, with people seated at the far end. When they saw me, Ashleigh, Travis, Caleb, and the rest stood up and gave me a polite round of applause.
I went right up to Ashleigh and hugged her, followed by Travis, Caleb, and the keyboardist from my first session. Jonah was there, and he sat with Shelby and her parents. Travis had a girl with him, a striking brunette who he introduced to us as “Summer.” It took me a minute to realize that she was Summer Salazar, the model. She was haughty and seemed generally disinterested in, well, everything, but she was cordial enough.
Altogether, fourteen of us filled the space.
I’d been hoping to see Ian, but Ashleigh explained that he and Hector had caught a flight to Auckland, New Zealand earlier in the day, that it was typical of him to not only visit several countries in the same week, that he hopped continents with alarming regularity.
The meal was the best I’d ever eaten. Simple dishes, but prepared with ingredients the quality of which weren’t available at our New Tazewell Piggly Wiggly. Even the collar
d greens were mouth-watering, and I wasn’t typically a fan.
The adults had beer and wine with their meals, but Shelby and I were stuck with sweet tea. At the end, Ashleigh ordered champagne, and we had a group toast. I’d had cheap New Year’s Eve champagne before, but this was something altogether different. It danced on my tongue and felt warm all the way down.
I could get used to hanging out at a place like Dewey’s.
On our way out, we spotted one of the guys from Brooks and Dunn (I can never remember which one is which) having dinner with his wife.
Ashleigh encouraged me to go home and talk to my Dad about his goals and expectations for me and my career, since I was still a minor, and that she’d present me with some options and offers from record companies in a week or so.
We said our goodbyes, hugs all around, and promises to keep in touch. When we got back to our room, Shelby dragged me into the bathroom. “We’ve got to fix our clothes and our makeup. We look good, but it’s a classy kind of good. We’ve got to get a little slutty. Jonah and Caleb are going to be here soon!”
“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Here? What do you mean by ‘here’? Your mom is going to come in and do bed check. Are you crazy?”
“It’s all worked out. We’re going to get in bed, act like we’re exhausted after a long day and just watching a movie.” Shelby was out of her dress and looking for a shirt in her bag that showed off her midriff. “Once she’s gone, I’ll text Jonah, and they’ll come up. They’ll be waiting downstairs. But out of sight, don’t worry. It’s foolproof.”
“Ugh! Shelby, this is so dumb. This can only lead to trouble.”
“What, only you get to have fun on this trip? Look, I’m happy for you. I am. You know I’m your biggest fan. But I want some alone time with Jonah, and this is, like, my big chance. And I would have thought you’d want the same with Caleb. He seemed excited about the prospect, according to Jonah.”
I could see there was no arguing with her, but I had to try. “Your parents are right next door. They’re going to hear male voices in here. And if Robert were to find out? I don’t know who he’d kill first, them or us!”
“Relax. Who said anything about talking to them? What do Jonah and I have to talk about anyway? He’s nice and everything, but I just want to play! If you don’t want to have ‘fun’ with Caleb, that’s up to you. Now hurry up and change and get into bed.”
Making out with Caleb would have most most girls happy. But all I could think about was Robert with a towel wrapped around his waist.
I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, whatever. But when this blows up in our faces, don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
Shelby hugged me and pulled on a pair of yoga pants before she went back into the bathroom to do her eyes.
I sighed and dug in my bag for a V-neck shirt that I knew made my boobs look good, and I paired it with a tight pair of jeans which did the same for my ass.
Shelby had about the smokiest eyes I’d ever seen, and she offered to make mine look the same. I declined the extreme eye makeup, since it tended to irritate my skin, and I went with something a little subtler.
We had no sooner finished getting dressed, climbing into bed, and turning on HBO, than Shelby’s mom knocked on the door.
Shelby let her in, intentionally leaving the lights off to help conceal what we were wearing and what our made-up faces.
Abby gave our room a quick inspection, and once satisfied that we were residing in a boy-free zone, she wished us sweet dreams and kissed Shelby on the head.
Moments later, Shelby stuck her head out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear. She sent a text down to Jonah in the lobby, and the two guys ascended the stairs at the end of our hallway and arrived at our fifth floor room out of breath. One soft knock was our signal, and Shelby opened and shut the door as stealthily as possible.
She went over a contingency plan in case one of our chaperones showed up. Caleb, Jonah, and I would go into the bathroom, where I’d feign an upset stomach. We couldn’t exactly expect them to jump out the window.
Jonah kissed Shelby hello, and I hugged Caleb. I sensed that he’d welcome a kiss as well, but that seemed a little fast to me.
As crazy as it was, he wasn’t who I wanted to kiss.
“Wow, you look amazing,” Caleb told me, while doing a poor job of avoiding staring at my cleavage. I blushed and thanked him. He was just as dreamy as he’d been at dinner, and would have been easy to fall under his spell, but I was only doing my wing-woman part for Shelby.
Jonah and Shelby’s kiss immediately evolved into full-blown making out on her bed, and their hands roamed freely over each other as she reclined back on the pillows and he rolled halfway on top of her.
Caleb and I sat on my bed, backs to our friends, looking out at a pretty spectacular view of the Nashville skyline.
“So, looks like you’re going to be a big star, eh? Guess I can forget you performing at the North Carolina State Fair with me,” Caleb pouted, playfully.
“Big star?” I rolled my eyes. “I haven’t sold one album or one ticket. I don’t even have a deal. I’m miles away from being a little star, never mind a big one,” I replied.
“Come on, Lia, you’re going to record an album with Ian Ion and you have record companies fighting over you? If that’s not a big star, what is? Anyway, we should celebrate.” He produced a bottle of Jack Daniels I hadn’t noticed when they slipped into the room.
Parties back home were mostly beer, when we could get it, but I’d had whiskey once or twice and I knew it went well with Coke. We had Pepsi, but I figured it would be more or less the same.
The boys brought no cups, so we were stuck mixing drinks in the small hotel water glasses, but that was okay. Shelby and I were lightweights, anyway. Caleb mixed four drinks and passed them out before calling for a toast.
“Here’s to new friends, more than friends, music deals, and Music Row!”
We clinked glasses as quietly as we could. I had to keep reminding the rest of our improvised party that we had to stifle our laughter, lest our neighbors hear us.
The whiskey burned going down, but it had the desired effect. Shelby had two before I finished my first, and she suddenly thought it a good idea to leave and take a walk with Jonah, despite my protestations.
They slipped out quietly, leaving Caleb and I alone with Jack Daniels. We drank and talked on my bed, and before I knew it, I’d had a bit too much. In my haste to keep up with Caleb, an undoubtedly more experienced drinker, I’d taken things too far.
I lay back on the pillow and closed my eyes, hoping the room would stop spinning. And that Shelby would come home.
Caleb’s hands, followed by his lips, found my face and neck. I tried to push him away, but he was insistent. Again, most girls would have been all about it, but I was drunk and didn’t have an interest in Caleb like that. I knew about Caleb’s reputation, and it was the reason I’d been slow to warm up to him. I didn’t want to wind up as the equivalent of a notch on his bedpost.
He kissed my face and my neck, and his hands explored my body freely, over my clothes. I tried to fight him off, but I was so dizzy.
“Caleb. I’m not into you like that… and Shelby’s parents are right next-”
He cut me off by kissing me hard on the mouth.
“Shh…don’t talk, Lia,” he whispered directly into my ear. “Just go with it. When you need to make a sound, just kiss me instead.”
I felt cheap. Like some girl Caleb Whatley would forget by the time he went to breakfast the next morning and flirted with his server. It was all happening too quickly for me.
I didn’t want him or this.
“Stop!” I pleaded with him, in as nice a voice as I could muster. “I really don’t want to do this. Please.”
He pressed his knee between my legs, took hold of my wrist in his hand, and kissed me again.
My voice, made raspy by the alcohol and fatigue of my whirlwind Nashville visit,
continued to plead with Caleb.
“It’s okay, Lia. You’re so beautiful. It’s going to be so good, I promise. Just relax.”
But it wasn’t good. It wasn’t right.
I could feel him moving, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. I heard his shoes tumble to the floor, and it occurred to me that he was removing his pants.
I wanted to scream, but doing so would alert Ben and Abby. Shelby, absent with Jonah, would be dead. So would I, for that matter. And, who knows how much influence Caleb might have in the music industry? Did I want to get a reputation already, good or bad, deserved or not?
I was terrified.
Sensing, perhaps, that he was losing me, that I wasn’t falling prey to his charms like other (most?) girls, he endeavored to roll me over onto my stomach.
That was when the Tennessee in me came out. I attempted to knee him first but the alcohol had slowed me. I swung out with one of my weak arms but he caught it.
I was helpless. I bit my lip, hard. And then…
A crash, and a blanket was thrown over me.
“What the fuck, dude?” screamed Caleb.
His voice was silenced by a “thwack” and then Caleb made an awful retching sound. I pulled the blanket around my body and sat up to see Robert Cavanaugh standing over a fallen Caleb Whatley.
Robert reached down and took hold of Caleb under his armpit, pulling up into a kneeling position before giving him a backhand, which connected with brutal force, sending the naked singer sprawling onto the floor.
My savior turned to me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded through my tears. Caleb crawled toward the corner near the door, his hand up to defend himself from any further attacks. Blood dripped from a cut over his eye.
Robert snatched Caleb’s pants from the floor and removed his wallet. He pulled out Caleb’s driver’s license and held it up where he could see it.
“This belongs to me, now. Depending on what Liane has to say about what went on here, you may or may not be hearing from the police. Even if you don’t, I want you to remember this face,” Robert pointed at himself. “Look at me, boy!” A sniffling Caleb nodded his head.