by Vega, W. H.
My session in the studio ends up going extremely well, and I’m pleasantly surprised to bump into Ben and Ryan, the other band mates of Rust, on my way out.
“Hey!” I exclaim, hugging each of them.
“Looking good, Paige,” Ryan flirts, and I give him a playful push. Ryan is definitely the more aggressive of the two guys, and he made it no secret when he tried to pursue me when I first moved to Nashville.
“Blake should be here any minute,” Ben says, smiling at me.
“Oh, good. I’d like to see him before I head out. He said you guys had a great weekend working on your music.”
“Yeah, we finally nailed a sweet tune,” Ben says, grinning. “Your dad and the label are serious about getting us all out there again.” He lowers his voice, “Though honestly, I think the real money-maker is going to be your songs with Blake.”
“Stop,” I say, feeling uncomfortable. I definitely don’t want to take away from the band.
Ben shrugs and Ryan nods in agreement.
“It is what it is,” Ben says, “People love male and female duos. And now that you guys are dating,” he shakes his head with envy, “That shit will sell.”
Just then Blake walks in and I can’t help notice how damn sexy he is. I could never tire of looking at him. His hair is messy and disheveled, like he just finished running his hands through it, and he’s got a bit of stubble. I’m sure he hasn’t shaved since we had dinner at his parents’. He’s wearing black jeans and a white and gray Rust t-shirt, that’s ripped just enough to make it look good.
“Hey handsome,” Ryan teases and Blake flips him off.
“Hey baby,” Blake says, pulling me in for a kiss. “This is a nice surprise. How was your session?”
“It went really well. I’ll get out of your hair though. I just wanted to say hi before heading out.”
He kisses me again, and this time I push him away, embarrassed.
“Blake,” I admonish, “your friends are right here.”
“They don’t mind,” he jokes.
“No, we don’t,” Ryan pipes up.
“Whatever,” I laugh. “You guys are nuts.”
I give Blake one more kiss and tell him to call me later. I wave goodbye to Ben and Ryan.
Just as I get in my car, my phone goes off. I look at the caller ID and see that it’s Becky from my dad’s office.
“Hey Becky,” I say, answering the phone.
Becky and I have sort of become friends. I say sort of because I’m not used to having girlfriends. After my dad’s friends attacked me, I lost touch with all of my Nashville girlfriends, and I slowly lost all of my Bristol friends, too. It was just too hard to try and have relationships with anyone.
I never realized how lonely I had been until I started trying to make friends in Nashville. Not that I had tried all that hard. Between starting up a romance with Blake again, rebuilding my relationship with my father, and trying to kick start my music career, I didn’t have a whole lot of time for friends. But Becky and I had hit it off the first time that we met, and it was easy to talk to her.
“Hey, Paige! I’m glad I caught you! I was wondering if you had any time to swing by the office this afternoon and sign some papers. I’m sorry for the short notice and I’m sorry for the rushed phone call. I’d love to know how you’re doing, too.” She sighs. “Things are really hectic here.”
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s fine, and don’t worry, you’re dad is doing great. It’s just that after a nice, quiet week last week, we’re kicking things up into full gear and this place is a madhouse now. There are some documents concerning your album that need signatures.”
Poor Becky. She could handle just about anything, but she sounded beyond frazzled over the phone.
“I’m actually out right now, so I can swing by now and sign it, if that will work.”
“Oh my gosh! That would be great! Thank you, thank you, thank you Paige! You’re amazing!”
“It’s fine, really.” I pause. “How swamped are you? Do you want to try and get an early dinner?”
“Actually, I would love to do that. If you don’t mind waiting around for maybe a half hour or so. I just need to tie up a few loose ends here, but I definitely need to end this crazy work day.”
“Sure! Not a problem! I should be there in about twenty minutes.” I say.
We hang up and I’m actually excited to grab dinner with Becky. She always makes me laugh, and I somehow always feel better after we’ve hung out.
Six
Paige
I get to the office and make my way up to my dad’s floor. Becky is bustling behind her desk, pulling papers out of her printer and scanning her emails at the same time.
“Hey,” I say, dropping my purse down at a nearby table and smiling.
“Hi!” she says breathlessly, hurrying over with a file folder.
Becky looks great as always, dressed in an emerald green tunic dress that perfectly accents her bright red hair. She opens up the folder and pulls out a few papers while brandishing a pen from behind her ear.
“So, here are the papers. Take a look over them, make sure everything sounds fine and then sign the areas I marked with a highlighter.”
“Thanks.”
She shoots me an apologetic look. “I just need to wrap up a few things around here, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Becky, it’s fine,” I insist, shooing her away. “Do what you need to. I’ll go through these, and then I’ve got some things I can work on.”
She nods and hurries down the hall.
I take my time going through the papers, but most of them are pretty standard, saying things like ‘I assure that my original songs are truly my original songs’ and ‘I agree to promote the album as dictated by the label.’ I rifle through the papers and then sign them all.
I haven’t seen Becky appear again, but I’m not in any hurry. It’s only four-thirty. My studio session had been scheduled somewhat late today, but tomorrow I have to be in the studio by nine in the morning. I send Blake a quick text about getting together in between our sessions tomorrow so we can work on our own song.
After texting Blake back, I sift through my emails, but they're mostly junk. When you don’t have much of a social life, you don’t get many non-spammy emails. I pull up my calendar to look for a free weekend to visit my mom, and decide that the following weekend will work best. I send her a quick email and then see Becky making her way towards me.
“All finished,” she chirps. “Let me just get my things together and then we can get on our way.”
“I didn’t even check. Is my dad here?”
“He’s actually been tied up in a meeting for most of the afternoon.” She looks at her watch. “I think he’s still going to be a while.”
“No biggie. I’ll catch him at home.”
We make our way out of the building and Becky suggests a good Mexican place in town not too far from the office. Once inside, the place is lively and bright, and a mariachi band is playing near the front.
“Wow, this is great,” I remark as we’re shown to a booth in the back.
“I thought you might like it. I wasn’t sure how much of Nashville you’ve seen since you moved back here.”
“Not much,” I say honestly. “I’ve been so busy.”
Becky nods, and we pick up the menus.
“They have really great margaritas,” she explains.
We start off with margaritas and chips and salsa.
“How is your boyfriend’s art work coming along?” I ask.
“You remembered! Oh, it’s coming along really well. He has another shows next month that he’s gearing up for. He actually sold some really big pieces last week, so he was happy about that.”
“Good for him! Please let me know about the show. I’d love to come.”
“Sure! What about you?” She sips her margarita and smiles. “How are things with Blake?”
I can’t help blushing. �
��They’re really good. I guess everyone pretty much knows that we’re an item, huh?’’
She laughs. “I think so. But don’t worry. No one cares, and from a business standpoint, it’s a money maker.”
I frown. “So, I hear.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I just don’t want people to think that Blake and I are only together to sell records and promote ourselves.”
“Paige, anyone who knows either one of you knows that isn’t true. You can’t control what the rest of the world thinks.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “And anyone who knows Savannah, knows that you're a breath of fresh air.”
I nibble on a chip, wondering if I can trust Becky with asking about the Devlins. I decide that I’m willing to take the risk. She’s the only friend that I have, and so far she’s seemed more than trustworthy.
“Okay, I have to ask you something,” I say, leaning in towards her. “What do you know about the Devlin family? Apparently they are causing some problems for Blake’s family because of how things ended with Savannah, and even my mom was a little worried when I told her who Savannah’s family was.”
Becky lets out a little sigh and takes a big sip of her drink.
“They aren’t the kind of people that you want to piss off,” she admits. “Both of Savannah’s parents come from big families that have a lot of power. The Prescotts hold a number of political offices in the city and the state.”
This was news to me, though it shouldn’t surprise me. I had only been in Nashville for a couple of months, and I was never one to follow politics in the first place.
“The Prescotts also have a bit of a reputation for being corrupt.” She laughs. “Of course, what politicians aren’t corrupt?”
I nod along with her.
“While the Prescotts have political power, the Devlins have financial power. They control a ton of the money coming in and out of the city. And lots of the women hold positions in all those hoity-toity ladies clubs, and country clubs and other organizations that like to ostracize the women that don’t fit in.”
“Shit,” I breathe. That was more than I had bargained for. “So, basically you’re telling me that Savannah’s family can control pretty much everything.”
“Pretty much,” she says sadly, “except maybe the music industry.”
Slight silver lining. But it did make me feel better that they couldn’t touch Blake’s budding music career.
“I never really gave that any consideration.”
“Well, how would you have known?” Becky asked. “And even so, just because Savannah’s family are a bunch of bullies, doesn’t mean that Blake should have stayed with her.” She shakes her head. “I never understood that coupling.”
“It’s probably best,” I mutter, grinding my teeth as I recall Blake’s “it-was-mostly-about-the-sex” comment. I know I couldn’t hold that against him because I wasn’t in the picture then, but I can just see Savannah using her provocative ways to hook Blake in.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Becky says, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve got Blake now, and probably all that his momma is dealing with are some pissed off ladies over at the country club.”
I smile and realize that she’s right. Plus, Blake’s mother wasn’t much of a society lady anyway. She still worked full time, and from what I gathered, his parents didn't buy much into all the Nashville-family crap.
I take a long drink of my margarita, and lick at the salt crusted around the edges. “You’re right. Let’s drink these margaritas, order some tacos and forget about all that.”
Becky grins and holds up her glass to clink it against mine.
Seven
Blake
“I think you guys got it,” Liam says from the booth, giving us the thumbs up sign. I look over at Paige who is delirious with happiness.
“Really?” she asks.
She’s excited, but I can see how tired she is; this has been a grueling week for all of us.
“Really,” Liam says. “Come on in here and we’ll play the track for you.”
“Come on,” I say, taking Paige’s hand and leading her from the studio. We step inside the small booth with Liam and Jackson, the guy running the sound board.
“Now, remember it’s going to sound a little rough,” Jackson says, “We need to lay down some more vocals and do some mixing.”
Paige and I nod, and I pull her against me, so that she’s leaning into me. Jackson starts the song and for the next three minutes and thirty-one seconds, we listen to ourselves crooning away.
“Wow,” Paige whispers when it ends.
“I think we did it, baby.” I tell her.
She gives me a swift peck on the cheek.
“Gold,” Liam agrees, grinning widely.
It's Sunday night and we've all been putting in demanding hours in the studio all week. And on top of that, Paige and I had spent a good ten hours over the weekend recording just our three songs together. In between our hectic recording schedules, Paige and I had found time, sometimes not until ten o’clock on certain nights, to get together and work on our duets.
“I still don’t know how we pulled that off,” Paige laughs, after we say goodbye and thank Liam and Jackson.
“Me neither.” I shake my head.
“I want a nice long break from recording studios,” she moans, climbing tiredly into my truck.
I laugh. “I know, I know. We’re going to have to go back in next week for a few touch ups, but after that I want a nice long break!”
We don’t say much as I drive her back to Kenny’s house.
“Oh crap! I forgot to tell you,” she cries out when we’re almost to Kenny’s. “I’m going to Bristol next weekend to see my momma and grandma.”
“That’s nice. I bet they really miss you. You haven’t seen them since you moved down here, have you?”
“No, I’ve been a lousy daughter.”
“You haven’t been lousy, you’ve been busy. And by the way, my mom was asking when she was going to see you again.”
Paige perks up. “Really?”
“Yes, really. If you ever want to have lunch with her some day, I know she would love that.”
Paige bites her lip. “Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt her work day.”
“She does it all the time with her girlfriends. I’m sure she’d love to do it with you.”
“Alright, if you say so. I really do like your mother. Maybe before I go to Bristol.”
“Okay. I’ll mention it to her the next time I see her.”
We’ve arrived at Kenny’s and Paige leans over to give me a kiss.
“Sweet dreams, baby,” she murmurs.
“Mmmhmm,” I groan, kissing her back. “Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?”
“Of course!”
“Pick you up at twelve?”
She nods and kisses me one more time before getting out of the truck. I watch her go into the house, not pulling away until I know she’s safely inside. I realize that I’ll never stop worrying about Paige. And not just because of what has happened to her, but also because I love her so damn much.
I find myself thinking about her all the time. Way more than I ever thought about Savannah. I find myself wondering what Paige is doing at random times of the day, or what she might be thinking about.
I have it bad.
After a good night’s sleep and sleeping in to an indecent time of eleven, I hurry up and shower before racing over to pick up Paige.
“Hey,” she says breathlessly, pulling the front door open to me. “Let me just grab my purse.”
She hurries back down the hall and returns a minute later.
“I slept until nearly eleven,” she says with embarrassment.
I laugh. “Same here.”
She giggles. “We’re both exhausted!”
“I was thinking Italian,” I say, as we head out to the car, “does that work?”
“Absolutely!”
I take Pai
ge to a nice, but laid-back Italian bistro on the outskirts of town. Just as we sit down, a pretty woman with a long bob comes up to our table.
“Paige! Hi!”
It takes Paige a moment to place her and then her face breaks into a grin.
“Jami! Hey there,” she gushes.
“I’ve been meaning to call you,” Jami says, “I saw that your tour went really well and I wanted to congratulate you.”
“Aww, thanks. It did go really well. And I truly appreciate all your help.” She looks over at me and smiles with embarrassment. “Excuse my manners! Jami this is my boyfriend Blake. Blake, this is Jami, the stylist who helped me with the tour.”
I vaguely remember Paige telling me that Kenny had set her up with a stylist to comb through her wardrobe.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” I say, rising to shake her hand.
“Oh please, sit down! I was just finishing up lunch with my mother and we were on our way out. I just happened to see you and wanted to stop by and say hi!”
“Well, I may be needing your help again,” Paige admits, “they’re trying to set us up on another tour before the end of the year.”
“No way,” Jami’s eyes widen. “You must be doing great.”
“We’re very fortunate. Blake was actually on the tour too with his band, Rust.”
“Yes!” Jami cries. “I knew you looked familiar.” She looks behind her and we see an older well-dressed woman wave from across the room. “That’s my momma,” Jami says in a quiet voice. “I better get going. She just broke up with the most awful boyfriend and I’ve been trying to raise her spirits!”
“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that,” Paige frowns.
“No, it was for the best, trust me. I just wish she would meet a nice man for once. Maybe someone who has the same interests!”
“What are her interests?” I ask curiously.
“Going to the gym,” Jami laughs.
Inspiration suddenly hits.
“I know someone who likes to go to the gym,” I say, glancing over at Paige. It takes her a second to process what I’ve said.
“Oh no!” she cries, “I don’t think that’s a good idea!”