Georgia Clay

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Georgia Clay Page 14

by KG Fletcher


  “Well, now. There ain’t no harm in having a conversation while you wait, is there?” His green eyes displayed pleasure as he looked her up and down. “Where’re you from?”

  Annoyed, she rolled her eyes and looked at him briefly. “Atlanta.”

  “Hot-lanta! A real-life city girl. What brings you to the Music City?”

  “My boyfriend.” She said matter-of-factly with a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh. Boyfriend, huh? Well, where is he?” He looked around dramatically. “That’s not very gentlemanly of him to leave a pretty thing like you all by your lonesome.” His index finger traced her bare arm making her wince.

  “Listen, I’m not interested.” She was firm, pulling away from his touch.

  “Hmmm… that’s too bad. You look like you’d be a lot of fun.” He smirked, leaning his elbow on the bar and tipping the beer up to his mouth guzzling the whole thing.

  Katie nervously looked at the blank screen on her phone. Where in the hell was Clay?

  “If he ain’t comin’, I can show you a real good time.” He skimmed the back of his calloused hand across her cheek catching her off guard.

  “I said, I’m not interested!” She deliberately tipped her drink over, the contents spilling all over the man’s crotch. He jumped up in a hurry.

  “Dammit, girl! Now, look what you’ve done!” Frantically, he grabbed at a stack of cocktail napkins pressing them to his jeans before storming off toward the bathrooms, looking like he had pissed himself. The bartender came over to see what the commotion was.

  “You alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Dumbass couldn’t take no for an answer. What do I owe you?”

  “Don’t worry about it. On the house.”

  “Thanks.”

  She watched him clean up the puddle left behind and looked at her phone again. Nothing. She didn’t want to wait at the bar anymore for fear of asshole-cowboy coming back to taunt her. She left quickly and started to walk. She liked Nashville, but it felt weird being alone in Clay’s city, especially on a Friday night. The familiar Batman building towered above, reminding her of the view from the skylight in his bedroom. How she wished they were safe under the sheets, his hard body wrapped around her. Even walking among the masses of tourists out for the evening, she felt vulnerable and alone. She remembered the route Clay had taken when they walked home a couple of weekends ago and started that way, eventually ending up sitting on the same park bench across from the Ryman Theatre. She sent an updated text to let him know where she was. The summer air was thick with humidity, and she could see heat lightning flash in the distance. Tears pricked her eyes and pride filled up her being as she stared at the great church lit up in the night.

  It was remarkable that in a little over a month he would be performing in the iconic building and introduced as a new touring artist. Since the moment he made his decision to go for it, their sweet little routine had changed. Her heart ached to know that things might not ever be the same, but at the same time, she was overwhelmed with delight knowing that the masses would soon be exposed to his incredible talent. Once he was out on the road, the whole world would want a piece of him, she was sure of it. The unthinkable darted into her thoughts. Perhaps she should cut ties with him before things got too complicated. He had told her up front that long-distance relationships never worked, and it was definitely not working right now. Maybe she should get in the car and drive home—let him concentrate on the music and not have to worry about having a girlfriend to entertain. She couldn’t help but sniffle and chalked up her wayward feelings to being dog-tired from the long work week and the four-hour drive from Atlanta. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if the sacrifice was worth it or had it all been too good to be true?

  “Katie…”

  She immediately recognized his voice but didn’t turn around.

  He sat close to her, his hand immediately stroking the side of her face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. I should’ve had you come straight to the studio. I’m a complete moron. I came as soon as I saw your last text. You shouldn’t be out here all alone.”

  The concerned tinge in his voice touched her, and the warmth of his hand on her skin was comforting, but she couldn’t quite look at him. “I’m not alone. See the tourists out and about, taking photos of the Ryman? I’m fine.” She pointed at several folks laughing in front of the famous building.

  “No, you’re not. I can tell by your body language and the fact that you can’t even look at me.” He gripped her shoulder. “Look at me, Katie. Please.”

  She swallowed and turned, their eyes locking together. The gold flecks in his caramel eyes glistened under the street lamps, his facial expression displaying regret. His hair looked like he had just woken up and his lips were full and inviting. Her heart surged with want, the desire to kiss him overwhelming.

  He gingerly tucked a stray hair behind her ear and tilted his head as he stared back at her. “I messed up, Pretty Girl. Can you forgive me?”

  She offered him a tiny smile and shook her head. “There’s nothing to forgive, Clay. I’m just tired from the drive. Can we please go back to your place now?”

  He nodded, offering his hand and helping her to her feet.

  *

  Clay was appalled at his behavior. He had seen Katie’s text when she was at the bar and was about to text back before he was interrupted with questions from Trent. The excitement of recording some of the new tracks on the first day in the studio had him muddled and out-of-sorts—in a good way. When he realized he had left her hanging, he abruptly left the studio. The team was finished for the day anyway, Trent and a few others mingling and finishing up some loose ends. Getting behind the wheel of his truck, he chastised himself realizing he should have sent her the address to the studio so she could meet him there. Too late now. Rounding the corner and seeing his beautiful girlfriend sitting alone on the park bench across the street from the Ryman made his heart free-fall into his gut. There were tons of tourists out on a Friday night in Nashville, so she wasn’t alone, but seeing her sitting by herself, looking stunning and vulnerable at the same time immediately put him in protection mode, making him regret his lack of communication.

  When they made it back to his place, he pulled both of their vehicles into the garage and carried her luggage up to the condo. She was eerily quiet, which made him uneasy.

  “I’m going to change out of my work clothes, do you mind?”

  “No, of course not. Can I have a hug first?”

  Her smile melted his core as she walked toward him. He wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes and inhaling the flowery aroma of her hair. She was warm and soft, her intoxicating scent sending a jolt of electricity to his groin. He kissed her temple before peppering her cheek with soft kisses landing on her moist lips. The kiss was gentle and romantic. Deep down he hoped he hadn’t ruined their weekend together.

  “I’ll only be a minute,” she said pulling back from him. Her huge, doe eyes looked tired.

  “Okay.”

  When she was out of sight, he went into the kitchen area to check on a grocery delivery his assistant had so graciously made for him. Having an assistant was a welcome new perk of being a Warner Music artist. Opening the fridge, he was relieved to see actual food and an assortment of beverages ranging from beer, fresh milk, and bottles of water. Everything was neatly displayed, ready for the weekend ahead with his girl. Pulling two beers out, he quickly opened them and strode into the living area. An idea formed, and he took his acoustic guitar out of a case stored behind the furniture. He tuned the instrument quickly and efficiently, and started to strum lightly, a small smile grazing his lips. He knew exactly how to cheer Katie up.

  “Do you want me to go to bed so you can keep working?”

  Looking up, he saw her standing in the large doorway of his bedroom. She was wearing pink and white plaid pajama pants and a white camisole. Her face was devoid of any makeup, and her hair was plaited to the side making her look like a
college co-ed.

  “I’m not working, Pretty Girl. Come and sit. I got you a beer.”

  She walked across the room barefooted, her toenails painted a noticeable bright coral. Sitting a few feet from him on the couch, he immediately handed her the drink.

  “I want to play you something. I think you’ll like it.”

  “Is this one of your new songs on the album?” she asked with interest.

  “Definitely. It’s still a work in progress, but you’ll get the idea.” He watched her nod and take a sip from the bottle. His finger-picking started slow, easing into the romantic tune he had been working on and then he began to sing. Katie’s eyes became wide as she hung on his every word.

  Drivin’ down a two lane road. Gravel flyin’, takin’ it slow.

  You look so pretty. You wanna come closer with your lips and kiss me?

  Lookin’ over the river at the moon and the stars, they make us shiver.

  Drinkin’ in the neon lights. Stayin’ up all night.

  Dancin’ real slow.

  Oh, baby, I gotta know…

  He took a deep breath before he started the chorus.

  What would happen if…

  We stayed in bed all day long, and I wrote you a love song, yeah.

  What would happen if…

  You promised to stay by my side, oh our love is somethin’ I can’t hide.

  What would happen if…

  He continued to strum the guitar lightly and looked up at Katie with a soft smile. Her fist covered her mouth, and her large eyes glistened with happiness. Slowing down the tempo, he finished playing and rested his arm on the body of the guitar.

  “That was just a verse and a chorus of a little something I’ve been working on this past week. Did you like it?” He waited with bated breath.

  Katie scooted closer and brought her hand up, sliding her fingers through his hair. “What would happen if… I really liked your new song.”

  Clay smiled and set the guitar down. He intensely looked her in the eye. “I’m so glad. I wrote it with you in mind.”

  A giggle escaped her full lips, the sound causing him to grin from ear to ear. Palming her cheeks, he pulled her face forward and melded his mouth with hers. The faint taste of hops and barley greeted him as his tongue swirled eagerly with hers. She moaned, and he kissed her cheek up to her earlobe where he lightly nipped at her soft skin. “Am I forgiven?” he asked.

  “Ummhumm…”

  “Is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?”

  “Ummhumm…,” she giggled, disengaging from his embrace. She stood and smiled down at him, offering her hand.

  “Damn, girl. If this is your reaction after every song I write for you, I should just go ahead and name my first album Katie.”

  She playfully pulled him into the bedroom, the sound of her happy laugh echoing throughout the condo.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Katie was naked, sprawled across Clay’s chest in the aftermath of their marathon sex. Her eyes were closed, and her hair stuck to her sweaty cheek. God, what she did to him! Tonight had been different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was slower; intentional. It felt like they had reached a different level; that it wasn’t just about sex anymore. They were dipping their toes carefully into a pool of the unknown. They were allowing themselves the possibility of something more.

  As she rested across his body, he was content to relax with one arm perched behind his head; the other draped across her exposed back where he made tiny circles across her bare skin. He stared up at the illuminated Batman building in all its nighttime splendor. It was hard to believe that his career was taking a sudden and exciting turn at the same time his love life was accelerating. It was a lot to process. But was it too much? Internally, he answered his question immediately. It was not too much. It was perfect. He believed in signs and having Katie back in his life at the same time his career was changing was no coincidence. If Katie hadn’t come back into his life, he would still be thwarting Buddy’s attempts at getting him to sign a record deal.

  Knowing she was a successful businesswoman who took pride in her corporate job was something they would have to navigate together if their relationship continued to grow. As much as he would love for her to be free from her fast-paced, stressful job and meet him on the road while on tour, he would never ask her to give up anything for him, including her career. He would take what he could get. Anything from the beautiful Katie Parker was worth the wait.

  The song he had sung for her earlier kept running over and over in his head. The idea had formed quickly to him after spending time with her. Writer’s block had never been a problem, especially when moved by something or someone so strongly. She was his muse and fueled his inspiration, getting his creative juices flowing as of late. It wasn’t hard to compose a song when she was on his mind. An idea crept into his thoughts, and he softly hummed the familiar melody, the lyrics for a second verse forming effortlessly.

  I miss you darlin’ when you’re gone. Nothin’ bout our love is wrong.

  I need you baby. You gotta know by now that you drive me crazy…

  He watched her back slowly rise and fall in slumber and started to drift off, finally closing his eyes and melting into the mattress with her body embracing his. Being with her was exactly where he wanted to be. He needed her, and he would do everything in his power to make their relationship work, especially with the changes that were happening in his career. Nodding off, the melody of the song he wrote for her was a lullaby in his ears.

  ***

  “Okay, let’s take it from the top in five, people!” Trent McDonald vocalized loudly into a microphone as he looked through the clear glass into the soundproof recording room.

  Katie was thrilled when Clay told her they would be spending time at Blackbird Studios for a few hours on Saturday. Trent had wanted to get a head start before the first full week of recording and lay down some scratch tracks on at least two songs. They were in Studio D, which was the largest and most impressive space. Katie learned that Blackbird Studios was owned by the female country artist Martina McBride’s husband and was often sought after by many famous recording artists including country favorites Dolly Parton and Garth Brooks. It was also a recording home to Taylor Swift and John Mayer, Michael Bublé, Steven Tyler and Keith Urban. The impressive list went on and on.

  When they first walked into the cutting-edge studio that oozed with a vintage vibe, it took her by surprise. The surroundings were warm and inviting, featuring dark walnut floors, stone walls, and interchangeable flutter-free sound panels. A sixties-era Ludwig drum-kit was in the center of Studio D, set up on a colorful Oriental rug, the other musicians assembled in a semi-circle on similar mats in front of the impressive instrument. Red hanging lanterns illuminated the main room, and she could see a black grand piano pushed to the side.

  She watched Clay from behind the glass as he tuned his acoustic guitar and bantered happily with his bandmates. Her heart swelled with pride, knowing he was in his element—after all these years, he was finally going to be the creative force behind his own songs.

  “You need anything to drink, Katie?” Trent asked. “There’s a full kitchen through that door. Anything you could ever want. I’m sure there’s a spread of something back there too if you’re hungry.”

  She looked toward the door where he was pointing. “Okay. Thanks.”

  Trent grinned before turning back to the ninety-six-channel soundboard anchored in the control room where they were sitting. An engineer named Tom sat next to him making notes on a pad of paper. Clay had told her all about how he had hand-picked award-winning music producer Trent McDonald for his debut album. Knowing how critical it was for her boyfriend to have a great team assembled, she was pleasantly surprised and liked Trent immediately. He wasn’t some acrid, chain-smoking, tie-wearing producer that she had imagined. He was quite calm and professional, his blond hair and tanned skin reminding her of a California surfer. Clay had
told her he was originally from Los Angeles, which made total sense.

  Sitting on a brown leather couch pushed up against a tufted, diamond patterned red-velvet wall, Katie had the perfect vantage point to watch Clay do his thing. It was the ideal spot for listening and taking it all in. Someone had come in earlier and lit several pillar candles on the coffee table in front of her, adding to the hip-ness of her current situation. She didn’t know what to expect going into a recording studio for the first time, and this was definitely not it. The place was sexy and comfortable; the entire atmosphere, relaxed. She was glad Clay was in a creative place that seemed stress-free. If these walls could talk, she was sure there would be incredible stories to tell.

  While they continued to wait on the musicians, Trent pointed out the different channels on the soundboard that coincided with each instrument, explaining some of the knobs and levers that gave the sound its highs, mids, and lows. He was patient and kind, even showing her a photo of his beautiful wife and three kids.

  When everyone was in place and ready to go, Trent guided them into the first few chords of a song, making minor sound adjustments. When he was satisfied, he would cue Tom to start a click track to set the tempo. And they were off…

  It was hard for Katie to sit still for all the excitement that rushed through her watching those first moments of Clay recording. Crossing her arms across her chest, she paced, observing him, awestruck by the catchy tune that would soon be available for all the world to hear. Clay bobbed his head to the beat, tapping his right foot in time with the metronome while he concentrated on his fingers picking the strings of the guitar. The other musicians were right there with him following charts set up on music stands. Suddenly, Clay threw his head back and laughed out loud causing the rest of the guys to come to a screeching halt.

  Trent flipped a switch to speak into the microphone. “You’re doing great Clay. What happened?”

  He gripped the back of his neck, his face flushed. “Too excited man. My fingers started moving like I was on speed. Sorry!”

 

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