by Mandy Baggot
So get the keys, unlock the truck
We won’t know where we’re going
We’ll find somewhere that we’ll fit in
With everybody knowing …
Hearing her vocals on the track for the first time was sending shots of heat like molten lava through his veins. He gripped the strings of the unfamiliar guitar desperate to do the song justice … for her. Listening to their voices combining he was struck with a feeling so strong it physically rocked him. An emotion deep inside rose up and hit him. This could hurt him. She could hurt him if he didn’t tighten up. He was caught here, torn, stuck between two places he was equally afraid to revisit.
He played the last chord and raising his head his eyes found hers. They were wide open, clear, moist, telling him she’d shared every emotion of every note. There was a second, a brief contact through the space that separated them before he realized the patrons of Cody’s had erupted.
The applauding and roaring jolted her as she became fully aware of just how many people had been watching. She put a hand to her chest and swallowed her anxiety. What should she do? The clapping for her solo performance she’d dealt with and had been expecting, but this! She didn’t know what to do with this. And she didn’t know what to do about Jared.
Then, invading her line of vision was Dan Steele. His hands redundant on the guitar hung low over his neck. He wasn’t putting his hands together in appreciation. He looked pissed. And Micro, her record company, had signed him.
‘You need to take a bow,’ Jared coaxed.
He was next to her, smiling at her, those gray eyes soft and warm. Before she could speak he’d linked her hand with his and raised it high into the air as the audience cheered harder.
‘Miss Honor Blackwood!’ Jared yelled. ‘Let’s hear it!’
Chapter Seventeen
‘Champagne, ma’am?’
Honor looked at the tray holding half a dozen glass flutes. As much as she craved an alcohol hit, her throat was so dry. She’d been interviewed by every country music magazine, some radio stations, a prime time Nashville chat show and done a piece for the Micro Records blog. Everyone had been ordered not to mention the attack of 2004, everyone had asked about the duet with Jared. Except Larry. Yet. She was still hiding from him.
‘Man, I’ll have yours,’ Mia stated, taking a glass for each hand.
This event at the Sheraton Music City hotel was completely unexpected and if she was truthful, unwanted. What she’d planned to do after the PA, no matter how it had gone, was escape back home and reflect. A long hot bath and a chance to breathe, analyze how it had gone, decide whether it was the right decision. Instead Radley Stokes had ushered her off stage right and the interviews had started.
She remembered the second she’d had to break contact with Jared. His fingers had been interlocked with hers, his thick rings tight against her hand. She’d hung on, pressed stronger, looped a finger over his until the last second, before Radley maneuvered her off.
‘Have you had some food, doll? They’ve gone all out here for you,’ Mia said, gulping down the bubbly from the glass in her right hand.
‘No, I’m not hungry,’ she lied. She hadn’t eaten a thing all day because of her nerves for the show, but now all she could focus on was the room full of people. The few hundred people she didn’t want to talk to and the one person who wasn’t there.
As if reading her thoughts, Mia spoke. ‘So, what’s the deal with Dan Steele? You didn’t know about that?’
‘D’you think if I’d known about it I’d have performed today?’
The answer was instant and from her gut. Was that true? Would she have let him ruin her comeback? She guessed she’d never know.
‘Not that anyone’s gonna be talking about him after your knight in shining armor stole the show. What was that track?’ Mia teased.
She felt her face light up as Mia nudged her elbow and snorted a laugh. ‘Just something we knocked up together last week.’
‘And you wanna share what else you did together last week because from where I was standing the air was crackling with hot promise,’ Mia carried on.
Heat flooded to her cheeks and she toyed with a curl, pulling it over her scar.
‘Is there something going on?’ Mia hissed in a whisper.
Honor shook her head vigorously. ‘No … it’s not like that.’ She had no idea what it was, if it was anything at all.
‘We need to talk. I’ve had every gossip magazine leaving me voicemail messages, Jared. Gossip magazines, tittley tattley editions that usually talk about Justin Bieber and his monkey. What the hell is going on?’
He took a long swig of his bottle of beer, working out in his mind exactly what he should say. The truth was, he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes with Buzz it was better to say nothing, let him blow off some steam before trying to make any explanation.
‘What you did was against everything in your contract with Gear. You can’t do stuff like that, Jared. How many times do I have to remind you of that?’
The man’s cheeks were puffing out and he unfastened the button of his jacket. Jared could tell he was nearly done.
‘You took over another record label’s gig. You played a hellish loud minor chord over their new media representative … ’ Buzz continued.
‘They got that on You Tube?’ Pride licked up all over the sentence and he straightaway regretted it.
‘What are you even doing here?’ Buzz threw his arms out, highlighting the lobby bar of the Sheraton.
He couldn’t answer that question either. He didn’t know. He’d not been invited to the party in the Plantation Ballroom but he’d heard it was happening and he’d made Byron drop him at the entrance. Buzz was there because he knew everybody and got invited to everything.
‘Is this still about wanting Honor Blackwood on the tour? Because … ’
‘Because what?’ He gritted his teeth, feeling the fierce loyalty bubbling inside of him. ‘She blew everyone away at Cody’s tonight. Her own song. Our song … ’
Our song. That shouldn’t have come out. It was but it wasn’t. He hadn’t got the right to call it that. And Buzz would pick up on it.
‘Our song? Are you serious? Jared, what’s happening here? You have a responsibility to Gear. They’re putting everything into this tour. Millions of dollars.’
‘I know that,’ he snapped. ‘What you tryin’ to say?’
‘I’m saying I think you’re letting your pants rule your head.’
He tightened his hold on the bottle then. ‘You’re talkin’ bullshit, Buzz.’
‘Am I? I don’t know what it is about this girl but since she’s come back onto the scene you’ve lost … ’
‘Lost what? Tell me, what have I lost? Because the last time I looked my album was back up in the top ten.’
Buzz shook his head and refastened his jacket. ‘For whatever reason, Honor Blackwood is a distraction. And she’s a distraction we can do without if we want this tour to go off the way Gear wants it to go off.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.’ The words came out bitter and rough.
‘I’ve seen it happen time and time again. Girl comes along, boy falls … ’
‘Stop right there. Do not say another word.’ Jared pointed a finger threatening, accusing. ‘How old d’you think I am, Buzz? This ain’t junior high. You’ve booked Raintown, I know that. They’re gonna be great, I know that too. Just get off my back about Honor, OK? Leave it alone.’
He slammed his beer bottle to the bar and whisked passed his advisor, heading for the door of the function room.
‘Honor, there you are. How are you darlin’?’
Larry had found her and Mia behind the large urn of orchids at the end of the buffet table. Mia had piled up a plate of food, all expensive bites of prawn and triangle-shaped avocado pieces. She’d eaten one and hidden the rest behind the flowers. Larry put his arms around her, drawing her into his cream suit that wouldn’t have looked out of p
lace on Vince Gill in the early Eighties.
‘Hey, Larry,’ Mia greeted, swallowing down some more champagne.
‘Mia,’ he acknowledged. He turned to Honor. ‘So, it was great tonight!’
His voice had gone high at the end of the sentence and she knew he was testing the water. He was seeing how much of a conversation they could have before she mentioned Dan Steele or he mentioned her performance with Jared Marshall.
‘Yes, it went great.’ She nodded her head up and down, her eyes matching his. It was just a case of who would crack first.
‘Cut the niceties. Did you know Micro was signing Dan Steele?’ Mia blurted, tilting her head and fixing Larry with a death stare.
Honor dropped her eyes then, looked into the glass of water she was holding. She still felt sick about the ‘Dan Steele Situation’ as Mia had been calling it for the past half hour. She’d filled Mia in on their history on the ride to the Sheraton and although she’d started off being a little put out this wasn’t something she knew already she’d then quickly changed tack calling Dan Steele every dirty name Honor knew and some she didn’t.
Larry obviously knew the history but didn’t Micro remember? Had the name change fooled them? Or was it that they just didn’t care? Should they care? They wanted talent. If Dan was as talented as everyone seemed to be saying he was, then that would matter more to Micro than an old, broken relationship.
‘Honey, believe me, I had no idea. Not one clue. I found out the exact same minute you did. When he was on that stage tonight.’
She knew he was telling the truth. He’d never lied to her before. She trusted him.
‘It sucks though, right? Taking Honor back and then signing the ass that dumped her when she was at her lowest point,’ Mia jumped in.
Honor lifted her head from her glass and there he was, just a few feet away. Dan Steele chatting animatedly with Radley Stokes. Everything was so perfect in his world. Back in Nashville, a record deal, people fawning all over him, opening the Marlon Festival … no scar on his still handsome face. A wave of envy washed up from inside. He’d had it so easy and now, just when she was ready to return, he was spoiling it. Right on cue he laughed. That laugh. Something she’d once found cute now raised her hackles. She took a swig of water.
‘Hey there! It’s Jed Marshall isn’t it?’
The tall, slim blonde wearing a figure-molding black mini-dress clutched at his arm. It was a mistake slipping in here. It was crammed full of all the type of people he loathed being with. This was a show. Music industry moguls, press, promoters, Nashville’s councilors with their political agendas. He should have made for the outside and the nearest bottle shop instead of busting into the party.
‘That’s right,’ he replied, taking her hand and lifting it off the sleeve of his leather jacket.
She didn’t miss a beat. She took the beer bottle out of his hand and put it to her lips. Inhaling the drink, her mouth fixed around the neck of the bottle, she sucked hard. The show of lip dexterity was for him but tonight he didn’t want it.
‘I saw you at Cody’s,’ she continued, passing back the drink.
‘Yeah?’ he smiled. ‘Like what you heard?’
‘I like what I see,’ she responded.
She was so transparent he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. He put the beer bottle on the table and took her all in. From her gold strappy high-heels, up the bronzed legs to the hem of the micro-dress and upwards, encountering a large flash of cleavage, her platinum hair sat on bare tan shoulders and that red-lipped smile. Just a few short weeks ago he would have taken the compliment and taken her to a hotel. But something had changed, whether he liked it or not.
‘What’s so funny, cowboy?’
‘Nothin’. Nothin’ at all, ma’am,’ he responded.
‘So what’s say you and me get out of here? Somewhere a little more … private.’ She put a hand on the peak of his cap and made to remove it. It was like he’d been stung. He grabbed at the hat, pulling it firmly down into place, trying to keep his cool.
‘I’m sorry. As much as I’d love to, I really can’t.’ His voice came out a lot calmer than he felt. ‘There’s someone I gotta see.’
Chapter Eighteen
Honor stifled a yawn. The whole day had worn her down. She was so tired.
‘Honor, Honor come over here. The photographer wants to do a quick shoot with you and Dan.’
Radley Stokes’ voice cut through the party atmosphere like a loud hailer in church. The words sliced into her and she gripped her water glass and made no acknowledgement. Perhaps if she made out she hadn’t heard he’d simply go away or she could quickly sidle out of here. She should have expected it. The scarred singer and the new voice. It was publicity gold.
‘Honor!’ Radley called again.
Her eyes caught movement in her peripheral. Jeans, a chain hanging from the belt loop, a black leather jacket over a gray Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt. His leather biker boots trod the plush carpet. Jared Marshall was heading towards her.
Her heart upped its pace as she watched him draw closer. He was here, at the party and suddenly she was a ball of nervous, excited energy.
‘Doll, the record company dude is calling for you,’ Mia informed, nudging her elbow.
She heard but she didn’t move or speak. She was too busy staring at Jared, mentally trying to talk her cheeks out of burning up.
‘Holy Moly, it’s the freaking knight in leather armor,’ Mia stated, her head turning in Jared’s direction.
As each step brought him nearer, Honor experienced something inside of her changing, spiraling, altering shape and motion. It was passion. It was heat. It had been over a year since she’d dated and ten since she’d felt anything close to this. Close, but nothing like it. He was raw. He was deep. He was dangerous. But underneath the harsh exterior she had seen something else. Someone loyal, someone soft and true. His appearance might make everyone, including her, a little weak but it wasn’t his looks that made her heart sing.
‘Hey,’ he greeted, reaching her.
‘Hi,’ she replied. Her hand went immediately to her hair.
‘Ho hey,’ Mia added. ‘I’ll just go find that cute waiter and get me a refill.’ He saw Mia give Honor an elaborate wink.
His heart was thudding so hard he could feel it in his neck as well as his chest. He was acting entirely on impulse and the beer he’d had. He wasn’t drunk, far from it; in fact he felt a clarity he’d not had in a long time.
‘I’m not here to apologize,’ he stated, his eyes locking on hers.
‘Apologize?’ She looked confused. He’d convinced himself, despite the fact she’d joined in with the performance, that she’d be angry he’d invaded the stage and forced her into an uncomfortable situation.
‘For droppin’ in on ya. For Trapped by Love,’ he elaborated.
She smiled, shook her dark curls. ‘I’m not angry. I know why you did it.’
He watched her gaze shift to Radley Stokes and Dan Steele who were setting up an impromptu photo shoot just yards away. Tables were being moved, urns of flowers turned and replaced at a slightly different angle.
‘It was either steal the limelight back for you or punch him again,’ Jared said, forming a smile on his lips.
She returned the smile then spoke. ‘Take me somewhere.’
The intensity of her expression had his blood pumping. She was nothing like the woman in the barely-there dress who’d just propositioned him. There was no desperation, no full-on flirtation, nothing obvious at all. But right now, he was more turned on than he’d ever been, just talking to her, just being near to her.
‘Where d’you wanna go?’ he asked.
‘Anywhere,’ she whispered.
His breathing quickened as they looked at each other, unmoving, the rest of the room and its occupants fading away.
‘Honor! Could you come and join us over here?’ Radley Stokes’ voice broke the spell.
‘Come on,’ Jared said, holding his hand out to
her.
She looked at his hand, the large metal rings on almost every finger and remembered how it had felt in hers on stage at Cody’s. She didn’t hesitate, despite the press presence, taking his hand in hers and letting the warmth enclose around her fingers.
He quickly led her away from Radley and Dan. Stationed just outside the exit was a Yallwire reporter with a camera crew. Jared hesitated and Honor felt his grip on her hand tighten protectively. He headed off to the left, pulling her with him. He came to a stop opposite the fire exit doors. He turned, looking at her.
‘You ready?’
She nodded. Jared pushed down hard on the metal bars. Straight away an ear-splitting high-pitched alarm went off in the function room.
‘Run!’ he yelled, breaking into a sprint.
Honor screamed as she was jolted forward with the speed of his acceleration.
‘Jared! Stop!’ She tried to keep up, her fingers losing their grip on his.
He powered on up the street, passing people, lampposts, until he suddenly broke off and hung a left. He continued on up an alleyway. Honor skidded on her boots, the tarmac wet from the afternoon’s shower. Rain water splattered her jeans.
He stopped and brought her to an abrupt halt against the damp wall of a grimy-looking building. She was perspiring and her heart was racing as she tried to catch her breath.
‘Do you think … do you think security will follow us?’ she asked him, putting a hand to her chest.
‘No,’ he said, laughing. ‘Just might be pissed if they can’t stop that alarm.’ He took a deep breath, his eyes alight, the sound of his laughter making all Honor’s senses react. She put pressure on his hand with hers, squeezing his fingers, wanting to let him know they were still connected.
She looked at him, longing for him to know how he made her feel. Wanting him to know that no matter what was going on in their lives; she seemed to need him in hers. It wasn’t something she could explain but, right now, she didn’t want to, didn’t need to.