Write You a Love Song

by Francisco, Fabiola

  “How’ve you been?” she asks after she’s placed the bottle back on the shelf.

  “Good, and you?” I take a sip, allowing the amber liquid to warm me up.

  “Good. Have you made Frito pie yet?” her eyes light up.

  Shaking my head, I chuckle. “Not yet. It’s only been two days since I tried it.”

  “I could eat it every day,” she sighs. “It’s good to see you genuinely smile,” her comment catches me off guard. “When I first met you, you were so grouchy, I almost believed the rumors about you.”

  “Okay…” I look down at my glass. I’ve smiled before.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be you, and maybe I’d be too serious as well, but it’s good to see you lighten up,” she repeats.

  “Thanks, I think.” I take a drink to keep myself busy.

  “Sorry if I insulted you.” Ainsley reaches out and places her hand on mine. She pulls her hand away quickly when I flinch and looks away, the warmth of her hand imprinted on my skin. I look at her as she works, becoming more curious about her.

  “Hey,” I call out. I’m about to speak when she turns around, but Eli interrupts me.

  “You got here early,” he slaps my back and takes a seat next to me, ending the conversation between us before it even got started. Ainsley plasters a smile on her face and greets him, taking his order.

  “Cheers,” Eli says, knocking his glass to mine. I mimic him and drink my whiskey, wondering what’s going on through Ainsley’s mind.

  I don’t mention anything about the label when Eli asks, wanting to be sure about my future before announcing it. I’d like to be the one to share the news with the public when the time comes, and not have it spread around town.

  When Eli goes to the bathroom, I lean over the bar and get Ainsley’s attention. “Sorry about earlier. It just took me by surprise.”

  “It’s okay, really. It’s nothing,” she shakes her head, preparing a Jack and Coke while we talk.

  “It’s not. I’m just…” How do I say this without sounding presumptuous?

  “Honestly, Knox, it’s no big deal,” she brushes me off, making her way to serve the drink she was making.

  “It’s…”

  “Hey, Bentley, you’ve got your own women to entertain. Leave this one to us,” Old McFord, another rancher in town, calls out, adjusting his cowboy hat. His words slur slightly.

  “Yeah, man, you’ve got a hot wife and that side candy. Don’t be greedy. Us town folk can’t get those California women, so leave this one for us,” Jim, McFord’s brother, agrees.

  My jaw clenches. “What did you say?” I stalk over to them, knocking him back on his stool.

  “Hey,” McFord places his hand on my chest to push me away. I look down at his hand before ripping it away from my body.

  “Y’all have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, and that’s no way to treat a lady. Your momma must be turning in her grave, hearing the way you’re talking about Ainsley. Show some respect.” My nostrils flare.

  “We’re just sayin’ what everyone’s read about ya,” McFord shrugs as if my fist isn’t about to slam into his face.

  “Ain’t you ever learn you can’t believe everything you read?” I get in his face, my body shaking and fists ready to punch him.

  “What the hell?” Eli pulls me away, holding me back as he stands between the two older men I’d like to punch manners into and me.

  “Get your friend under control,” Jim warns.

  “Or what?” I yell.

  “You know we don’t tolerate violence in this town,” he says.

  I shake my head and look at Ainsley, her eyes wide and hand covering her mouth. She deserves better than this.

  I take a step back and look around the bar. “Anyone else have something to say to my face?” I hold my arms open. “Stop being cowards and say it. I can’t believe y’all would believe that shit instead of the person you’ve known your entire lives. So much for being ‘one of us’,” I use air quotes for emphasis. “I’m only one of you when it’s convenient for Everton to have a resident celebrity.”

  “Come on,” Eli pushes me back and toward our spot at the bar.

  Anger rolls down my body, and I can’t shake it off. “You okay?” I ask Ainsley.

  “Yeah, thanks.” She looks away.

  I scratch my beard and breathe away my anger. When Eli asks what happened, I shake my head and remain silent. Reacting to two old ranchers isn’t what I needed to do, but I couldn’t stay quiet when they were disrespecting a woman and insulting me. I lift my glass toward Ainsley and chug the whiskey as it burns down my throat.

  “Gotta go,” I slam down a fifty for both of our drinks and walk out of Clarke’s without a backward glance.

  Knox

  The last few days have been filled with phone calls from both David and Harris, scheduling meetings, and booking a last-minute flight to Los Angeles in the hopes that I can kill two birds with one stone—getting a divorce and breaking my contract—before I leave the city. This chaos needs to end.

  I stop at the grocery store to grab a pack of Buffalo Jerky for Harris. He loves that stuff, and I owe him for fighting on my behalf.

  “Is this our new meeting place?”

  I turn around to find Ainsley, hands on her hips, and a crooked grin on her face. Her long, blonde hair is tied high in a ponytail, showing off the curve of her neck.

  “I guess so,” I take her in, tight jeans and a long-sleeved tee that fits her just right. Fuck. I squeeze my eyes shut and shake away my thoughts.

  “Jerky?” She’s standing in front of me now, grabbing the pack from my hand as she reads it.

  “It’s for my manager. He loves this stuff, and I wanted to take him some as thanks and peace offering. Let’s just say I haven’t exactly been kind to him lately,” I explain.

  “Grouchy Knox being unkind?” she teases, her eyes opened wide in mock disbelief.

  “Give me that,” I yank the jerky from her, playfully.

  She giggles and pats my arm. “I’m only kidding.”

  “I know,” I crack a smile. “I gotta go, though, if I don’t want to miss my flight.”

  “Oh, you’re going to Nashville?” she asks.

  “LA,” I correct her.

  “Cool. Good luck,” she offers a tight smile, all teasing gone.

  “Thanks. I’m definitely gonna need it, so I’ll take all the luck you want to send my way.” If I could have just a hint of her positivity and enthusiasm, this trip would be a breeze. Since I’ve met her, her happiness has started to seep into me slowly, giving me hope.

  “I’ll send it all your way,” she states with a firm nod. “Now, go on before you miss your flight, and you’re stuck at Clarke’s tonight with me servin’ your drinks.” I smile at the vision of her teasing me behind the bar. I’d much prefer to spend the night with her. Whoa.

  I thank her and pay, reminding myself that I do more damage than good to the women in my life.

  …

  “It’s about time you arrived,” Harris, my manager, says as he meets me outside the airport.

  “Fucking weather delay.” My good mood from earlier left long ago when I had a two-hour delay in Wyoming.

  “David is waiting for you. We’ll go see him first, so we don’t keep Her Majesty waiting any longer.” Harris rolls his eyes. He never was a fan of Amelia.

  “I just hope she signs the papers. I’m giving her the house, alimony, and peace. I don’t know what else she wants.” I shake my head, stripping out of my jacket and tossing it in the backseat of his car. “It’s hot as hell,” I roll up the sleeves of my sweater.

  “Welcome to LA,” Harris grins.

  “Sure as hell haven’t missed it,” I sigh and lock my seatbelt. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Harris speeds down the highway and toward downtown Los Angeles, swerving between cars with a precision only he has. I grip the handle the entire time, hoping we make it in on
e piece.

  “Wish me luck,” I tell Harris when he pulls up to David’s office building.

  “It’ll be okay. I’ll see you at the label when you’re done.”

  “Thanks,” I leave my bags in his car and stalk to the building, taking the elevator to the eighteenth floor.

  “Knox,” I turn to see David, worry lines around his eyes.

  “Sorry. I got here as fast as I could.” I shake his hand as I explain. I kept him updated about my flight, but I know being late isn’t exactly the most ideal situation.

  “I know. Come on.” I follow him into a conference room where Amelia and her lawyer are sitting.

  “It’s about damn time.”

  “Nice to see you as well, Amelia,” I smirk to hide my disdain.

  She rolls her eyes and looks at her lawyer. “Do you hear his sarcasm?”

  “Don’t start. You’re the one with the attitude. I just want to sign the papers and be done.” I take a seat across from her.

  “I don’t agree with your terms.” She leans back and crosses her arms, a perfect arch to her brow.

  “What else do you want? I’m giving you the house for free, great alimony for the timespan required by the state of California, and you’ll still receive royalty payments for the songs you were featured in.” I have no idea what else she could want.

  I take a deep breath to calm myself. “Amelia, we both know our marriage was never based on love, so don’t try to throw that out there. No one in this room would buy it. It served a purpose, and now we’re done. You’re so loved by your fans, this divorce would probably add to your fame. That’s what you want, right? Not to fade into the background.” I’m hanging on to anything I can to convince her. Truth is, she’s a talented singer and has a huge following, she doesn’t need me.

  “All I ask is that you stop spreading lies. You and I both know I treated you with the utmost respect, and insinuating that I was abusive in any form is bullshit. That’s not going to help you get what you want, because I will come out and say the truth,” I raise my eyebrows.

  She sits up straighter and flares her nostrils. “What truth?” Her words are defensive.

  I shrug. “Take back what you said and this all ends. You keep your reputation, and we both move on. However, if you want to play dirty, it won’t do you any good.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she clasps her hands together, resting them on the dark, oak table.

  “CJ,” is all I say and observe as understanding dawns on her face. I give her a cocky grin and lean back in my seat, stretching my legs out under the table and feeling more relaxed. I wasn’t going to bring this up, but I’ll give back just as good.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She knows damn well I know who he is.

  “Our house has a security system. Cameras everywhere that are turned on when neither of us are supposed to be home,” I arch a brow.

  Her face blanches. “No,” she lets out on a whisper.

  “Yes. We were both supposed to be away for appearances that weekend. I don’t care who you fucked while we were married, but I doubt your fans would feel the same way,” I threaten, and I hate taking this route.

  “You’re lying,” she continues to fight me.

  “David,” I look at my lawyer.

  “He’s seen it?” She shoots up on her seat, back ramrod straight.

  “I thought I was lying?” I tilt my head. I have her right where I want her. Amelia cares too much about what others think about her.

  Her lawyer looks at her with a stern look and Amelia sits back down.

  “No one else has seen the footage, but he had it saved for me so it wouldn’t land in the wrong hands,” I explain, feeling a tiny bit of compassion for her.

  I knew she wasn’t loyal to me, and I didn’t expect her to be. I took from her physically what I needed when I needed it because it was easier to fuck my wife than have to deal with the cheating accusations. When she finally told me about CJ, I ended our physical relationship and filed for divorce so we could both be happy, which is why I don’t understand her reluctance.

  “Listen, we can both be happy if we just sign today. I’m asking you as a friend and the person who has lived with you for the past four years. Let’s put this behind us.” I lean forward, praying she agrees.

  “You wouldn’t publicize that video,” she continues to fight me.

  I exhale and shake my head, tired of her crap. “Don’t push me, Amelia,” I say with finality and stand. “You have three hours to decide. You’re already aware of the consequences.” I stand and walk out of the room without looking back. It’s time I take my life in my own hands.

  I shoot David a message letting him know I’m going to the label and will be back to hear her decision and take action if necessary.

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned about being a celebrity, it’s that you have to play dirty with dirty.

  Calling a car service, I wait outside of the building. When the black Town Car pulls up in front of me, I climb in and ask him to take me to RWB Record’s Los Angeles office.

  …

  “At least this is done,” Harris says, shaking my hand as we stand on the sidewalk in front of RWB Record’s building.

  “Thanks,” I nod. “I appreciate what you did.” The executives at RWB Records weren’t as easy as I was hoping, expressing they want to make the official announcement about our separation, saying it was based on artistic differences. At this point, I’m okay with that. Nothing will ever seem real in this industry regardless of who makes the announcement.

  “Where are you staying?” Harris asks.

  “Airport hotel. I’m leaving early tomorrow.”

  “Want to grab dinner?” He leans against his car, parked on the street.

  “I almost forgot.” I open the back door and pull out my backpack, grabbing the jerky and tossing it to him.

  He catches it and smiles. “Thanks, man.” He tears open the plastic packet and grabs a piece. “I’m going to have to visit you more often to stock up on these things.” Harris would travel between Los Angeles and Nashville with me, finally settling down in Los Angeles when I made it my permanent home.

  “You’re welcome anytime. I’ll let you know about dinner. I want to check in with David first.” I haven’t heard from him, but I hope he has good news when I get to his office.

  “I’ll drive you over and wait, so I can drop you off at the hotel.”

  “Thanks.” I take him up on his offer and let David know I’m on my way. If I have to wait for a car, I’ll never get to his office on time.

  Once I’m up on his floor, David’s waiting for me again by the receptionist’s desk.

  “So?” I ask as he leads me to the conference room we used earlier.

  “She agreed,” he smiles and pats my back.

  “Thank fuck.” I stare up at the ceiling and close my eyes, rubbing my eyes with my fingers.

  “I know you didn’t want to hit her with the threats, but it worked. Her reputation is more important than your marriage,” David shrugs.

  “I was hoping it would work because I didn’t want to make that public, and she would’ve known I was bluffing.” I put my hands in my pocket and look at the papers sitting on the table.

  “Ready to sign?” He holds up a pen.

  “Hell yes.” I grab the pen and sign to end my marriage, grateful this trip wasn’t a waste.

  I thank David when I’m done and walk out into the late afternoon, feeling free for the first time in years. I stare up the sky and send a quick thanks to the Man upstairs. Memories of Reese hit me, and I blow out a guilty breath. All I can hope is that she’s happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.

  I run a hand down my cheeks, tugging my beard at my chin.

  “So?” Harris asks.

  I nod. “She signed,” I confirm.

  “Congrats,” he grabs my hand and pats my back in a half-hug. “What now?” He looks at me with a question he
’s been holding in.

  “I’m gonna go to the hotel, shower, and celebrate with dinner and drinks. You down?”

  “Fuck yeah,” he cheers.

  “After that, I need to decide what I want to do with my career, but I’ll keep you in the loop. If it’s music, I’d love for you to continue being my manager, but I need some time to take in every option,” I explain, wanting to be fully honest with him.

  “Sounds good,” he nods.

  Ready to shower and eat something, we head to the hotel and make plans to meet in two hours at a nearby restaurant.

  Knox

  I got to Everton yesterday and drove straight to my parents’ house to share the news with them. We celebrated with whiskey and my mom’s famous chili, which reminded me of Ainsley. I accepted the leftovers my mom offered, hoping I can make Frito pie for Ainsley.

  She’s somehow snuck into my mind with her carefree attitude and gentle spirit. I find myself wanting to spend more time with her and get to know her more. She’s sparked light into my life in the short time I’ve known her.

  I walk into Clarke’s, sure that Ainsley will be working the bar, and take a seat.

  “What can I get ya?” Adam barks.

  “Whiskey,” I reply as I look around the place for Ainsley.

  He doesn’t reply as he serves my drink and slides it toward me, walking to another customer demanding his attention. Maybe Ainsley is running late, which would explain Adam’s attitude. Either that or the guy can’t stand me.

  I take a sip, setting my feet on the stool rung and relax for the first time in months. The stress of the divorce and my music label have taken a toll on me, but now I can make any decision I want without worrying about NDAs, marriage certificates, or music contracts.

  RWB Records hasn’t made an announcement yet, but I’ve prepared my own press release once they do. As for the divorce, Amelia and I both agreed to share an exclusive statement with Music & Life Magazine this weekend.

  There’s been a lot of speculation about the future of my career, and it will only increase with the upcoming news, so I’m bracing myself for the questions that will be thrown my way.