by Kat Long
The fasten seatbelt sign clicked off, and the pilot welcomed us to Nashville. Blue stood up, grabbing her carry-on and brushing past me with an exasperated look. Sighing and rubbing her temple, she turned and said, “This gets harder every day, Max.”
“Well, not yet. But with the way your hand was moving, it wouldn’t have been long.”
She smiled, and it lit up her whole face, breaking the tension. She giggled softly, putting her hand in front of her mouth as a quiet snort escaped her lips.
“To be continued, Blue,” I said, grabbing my carry-on and following her out.
The drive to the Atlas Hotel was uneventful. Annaleigh stayed glued to her phone, and Jake looked green around the gills. I was glued to her and the gentle sway of her hips as we walked inside. She handled our check-in with ease, all while texting with Luke, one of the other VPs, who was having an issue with a client.
Annaleigh dropped off her suitcase before letting herself into the joined suite Jake and I were sharing, unpacking a small bag and her laptop. Jake immediately went to his room and shut the door. The adjoining suite had two rooms and a bright common space with a small kitchenette, table, and couch. I walked over to the windows and opened the curtains, seeing the Nashville skyline. Annaleigh set up her laptop at the table and walked to the kitchenette. An orange appeared in her hand, and she peeled it while she heated water in the coffeemaker. Rummaging around in the smaller bag, she took out several tea bags and a small container of honey.
“I think you have a problem,” I said, nodding to the fruit as she put a slice in her mouth.
“It’s better than the alternative. Obsessed much?” She bit into another slice, licking the juice from her lips. Damn, that was sexy.
“Yep, I am. What’s the alternative?” I crossed my arms, sitting down at the table and staring as she eyed the different tea bags, willing my cock to calm the hell down.
“Humm, good to know. I have hypocalcemia,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and choosing a bag before tearing it open.
“What’s that?” I said, leaning forward and wondering why the hell it took me so long to ask her about the damn oranges.
“I have low calcium. It’s not a big deal, but I don’t want to depend on medicine.”
“But it seems like you depend on those oranges,” I said.
She stopped seeping the tea and put her hands on her hips, taking a deep breath. “It’s under control.”
She turned her back and focused on the tea. I crossed my arms and squared my shoulders, anything to keep me from standing up and moving closer. She poured the boiling water from the coffee maker into a large mug.
“Want to tell me why you can’t sleep, Blue, or is that under control too?” I sounded like a dick, but these last few weeks had sucked, and I needed to know what she was feeling.
“Okay, Max. You want to know?” She started, resting a hand on her hip and seeping the tea. Her eyes were hard, and her back was stiff like she was primed and ready for an argument.
Huh, maybe I didn’t want to know, maybe it had nothing to do with me, and I was a selfish bastard for thinking it did.
“I haven’t slept through the night since I stayed over with you. I forgot what it was like to have someone hold me. I’m questioning if I made the right decision with us. Actually, I’m questioning lots of things about my life right now. Happy?”
She looked defeated, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to hold her, touch her.
Her shoulders slumped forward as she stirred. Thank fuck. She felt the same, even if she hated to admit it. She needed to know it had been the same for me. She needed to know I wanted nothing more than to make her mine. I opened my mouth to reply, but Jake opened the door and crossed the room, sitting down across from me and holding a tin of almonds.
“Here. Sip Jake. Easy.” She put the tea in front of him with honey and a spoon, and I finally noticed that his hair was plastered to his forehead, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Lifting the mug with shaky hands, Annaleigh placed her hands over his and helped bring the tea to his lips.
“Slow. Easy, Jake,” she said, and he nodded his head.
“Thank you,” he whispered back, his usual confidence and bravado gone. But he still took one hand from the cup and pushed the almonds towards her.
“You shouldn’t have sat by yourself, but it seems to be better this time,” she said, picking up the almonds and eating one while surveying him. The concern in her eyes and the way she kept one hand on his bothered me, and I flashed back to the awful words Raymond said about her.
“Maybe, but it would have been worse if we drove,” Jake said, interrupting my train of thought. “I get horrible airplane sickness, Max. Sorry, you have to see this side of me. Whatever this magic tea is, it always helps.”
“Damn Jake, I hate that for you,” I said, my eyes focused on where she was still touching him.
“It will pass soon,” he replied, taking another sip and weakly smiling at us.
Annaleigh finally moved her hand and crossed her arms, studying Jake’s face as the tea turned his color back to normal. Her phone rang, and she picked it up, walking across the room and mouthing to Jake to keep drinking. I could only hear her side of the conversation, but it sounded like Luke was having an issue with his password. Jake reached into her laptop bag, and before I could ask him what he was doing, he took out a small, black notebook. Holding her phone between her neck and shoulder, she took it from Jake with one hand and pushed his mug forward with the other.
“No, Luke, it’s percent then star. Sure. For who? Update the Business Risk Rating? Yes. Okay. I have to go, another call. You too. Talk later.”
She looked at the phone and frowned before putting it up to her ear again.
“Hi, Mom. Yes, Nashville. What? No…” She walked into Jake’s room and shut the door without a glance at either of us. Whatever her mom said upset her.
I’d been in awe of the working relationship between those two, but it was finally sinking in why she loved her job so much and didn’t want to jeopardize it. Annaleigh and Jake complimented each other’s work habits, and she kept everything running smoothly, even from afar.
Christ, I was such a dick.
Why would she give this up? I ran my fingers through my hair and stood up. I needed to take a shower to decompress, but first, I was going to ask Jake more about those damn oranges.
“So, hypocalcemia?” I said, taking a deep breath and rolling my shoulders.
“Yeah. She gets exhausted and bad muscle cramps but doesn’t like to take pills,” he said, pushing the tea away.
“Oh,” I said, looking at the almonds. “And I take it those have calcium. Why doesn’t she like to take pills? Or find other ways to get calcium besides the oranges.”
“Humm. She’s a nurturer, Max, and doesn’t want anyone to see her weaknesses. She has enough on her mind this week without worrying about her calcium levels. As I’m sure you’ve seen, I’d fall apart without her. She single-handedly can run that office from miles away. I’m just the lucky fuck that gets to reap the rewards,” Jake said.
“What does she have to worry about this week?” I asked, desperate for any bit of information.
“That’s not my place to share, but I see the way you look at her, Max.”
His tone was light, but his eyes were sharp, daring me to disagree. This was dangerous grounds, and my next words needed to be thought-out.
“Mom, please,” Annaleigh said, interrupting us and opening the door a little harder than necessary. Her face was flushed, and her foot was tapping. Turning my head to her, I shamelessly listened, hoping to understand more. “I won’t change my mind. Yes, I talked to Bird last week, but it didn’t come up. Okay, I will. Yes, I love you too. Love to Dad. Bye, Mom.”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before coming back to the room and sitting dow
n at the table with us.
“Is it tomorrow?” Jake asked, pushing the almonds closer again. She absentmindedly took one, chewing softly before standing up and pouring more hot water into his cup.
“No, Wednesday.”
“Ah. What’s on the schedule this week?” Jake asked, not pressing her and reaching for the tea again.
“Wednesday and Friday, we’re free after lunch with a return flight first thing Saturday. I’ve sent itineraries to your emails and have your presentations in my room.”
“What’s Wednesday, Annaleigh?” I said, eager for her answer.
“It’s the anniversary of when Serin’s Beautifully Broken album hit Double-Platinum.”
Of all the things for her to say, that was most definitely the least expected. An Album? She was being sarcastic. Why would anyone be upset over an album hitting Double-Platinum? Didn’t that mean it sold several million copies?
“Serin? The Popstar? Are you serious?” I asked.
“Yeah, Max. The Popstar. I’m glad we have that afternoon off,” she said, brushing me off and sitting beside Jake. She powered up her laptop and hummed until Jake interrupted her.
“What are your plans that day, Annaleigh? You better be leaving the hotel.” He was kneading his shoulder and finishing the last of his tea.
“Oh yes, we’re in Nashville! I’ll be visiting the Country Music Hall of Fame and going on the Walking Food and Pub Tour. You two have that Food and Wine Tasting, right?”
“Right, I can’t wait to talk about wine flavors for hours with stuffy executives.”
“It’s tannins Jake, and you’re a stuffy executive,” she said with a wink.
“I remember you saying you listen to country music,” I said, wanting to bring the topic back to her.
“Oh yes, especially with being born and raised in the South. Okay guys, I’m heading back to my room to relax before tomorrow. Text when you’re ready to go to dinner, or if you would rather reconvene in the morning.”
She pushed the mug of tea to Jake before packing up her bag and walking out with her laptop. As she waved two fingers behind her, the door clicked shut, and I was alone with Jake, ready for his continued line of questioning.
“Okay, Max. I’m going to decompress. We’ll hook up for dinner later,” he said, getting up and walking back to his room. He closed the door with a click, leaving me alone with nothing but the lingering smell of oranges.
- 17 -
VOICES ECHO
Annaleigh
The Country Music Hall of Fame was better than I thought. I had a taco from Bajo Sexto and bought too many souvenirs. It was easy to see why people called this place the Smithsonian of Country Music.
I skipped the Walking Food Tour and went straight for the Pub Crawl, making it to three bars before heading back to the hotel to give my emails a once over and change before dinner. There was a bar I was eager to check out to watch live music and line dancing. And I had killer cowboy boots I was dying to break in.
My laptop and notes laid spread out over the conference table, taking up the entire space since Jake and Max were away for the afternoon. Nothing was urgent except an email from Raymond asking me to call him. I sent him an instant message on our server instead, not wanting to hear his condescending voice.
Annaleigh.Mackey: What can I do for you, Raymond?
Raymond.Whitney: Seven p.m. Saturday.
Annaleigh.Mackey: I don’t understand.
Raymond.Whitney: Benjamin will pick you up then.
Annaleigh.Mackey: No, thank you. Please keep all correspondence professional.
Raymond.Whitney: Seven p.m. Sharp
***Raymond.Whitney is Offline and cannot receive messages***
Fantastic. Now I needed to make myself scarce Saturday night. Hang on! How did he know where I lived?
Oh. Hell. No.
Accessing my personnel file was a clear misuse of power and intimidation. I saved the message and stuck a sticky-note on the corner of my laptop, reminding me to tell Jake before I headed back to my room to get ready, pushing Raymond and his idiot man-child out of my mind.
I put my hair in two French braids that fell below my bra and jeans that were practically painted on my body. My new brown cowboy boots with teal stitching matched my white blouse had a a scoop neck and cap sleeves. I tucked my ID, credit card, and room key behind my phone and a spare red lip gloss in my pocket before closing the door.
I leaned against the back of the mirrored elevator and closed my eyes, resting my head on the cool glass. Between the plane ride and now, I’d decided something. Something important, something big.
I wanted Max.
I remembered his heavy-lidded eyes beneath his thick lashes and those bourbon eyes that saw into my soul. He awakened something in me I thought I’d lost, bringing music back to my life. He made my lyrics stick and lessened the guilt. I was a better person with him, and he needed to know.
As I walked down Broadway Street, music drifted from the open doors, and the air buzzed with excitement.
Wait.
That was my phone. Looking at Bird’s name, I swiped right, and I held the phone to my ear, “Happy Anniversary,” Bird said.
“Thank you,” I replied, stopping on the street and putting one hand on my hip.
“Stop being a martyr. I can hear it in your voice. This is an important day! Time to stop with the self-flagellation and move the fuck on.”
“I’m getting there.” I looked up at the sky. The bright lights of Nashville had dulled the stars, but they were still there, ever present, like the lyrics that swirled in my head.
“May our voices echo from the heaven’s above to the melody of your enticing caress.”
“That’s a bullshit cop-out, and you know it,” Bird said, dragging me back to the present. “You told our story, using the lyrics you wrote to heal. It should have given you closure, but all it does is drag you into a pit of depression. The fucking money doesn’t matter. You saved me! You’re my best friend! You were there when I got married, for Christ’s sake! Who knows where I’d be if it hadn’t been for you,” Bird said.
I could hear the exasperation in Bird’s voice, and suddenly, it made sense. It was time to stop letting this guilt consume my life and infiltrate my chance at happiness.
“It’s time to move on, lady. Quit pitying yourself and be proud of what you did! The line must be drawn here!”
“Did you just quote Jean Luke Picard?” I said, smiling at the cheesy reference.
“Hell yeah, I did. So, what’s it gonna be? You love to sing and write; you love to play. So, you know what you should do?”
“Sing, play, and write?” I said, tugging on the end of one of my braids and pacing back and forth. The neon signs of Broadway Street blinked and popped, and it was like a lightbulb had gone off in my head. Bird was right.
“Bingo! I’ll never quit. I still play every weekend, and every time I do, it reminds me of what could have happened. I won’t be the reason you quit. Stop blaming me, stop blaming the music, and stop blaming yourself. You know I love you, Annaleigh, but just because I did a shitty thing and fucking OD’d doesn’t mean everyone close to you will hurt you. You are a fucking catch. You’re sweet, gorgeous, and have the kindest heart I know. You’re a little quirky too, but that just adds to your charm. Give yourself more credit and open your heart.”
The line was silent, and I thought about the words. “Open my… You know, I think I needed to hear that, Bird. I sort of had a breakthrough a few weeks ago and started writing.”
Sighing, I looked up, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings in the city.
“Are you serious? What happened?”
“I, um, met someone, Bird. He’s grumpy, and loyal, and not afraid to tell me how he feels.”
I pictured Max’s face and his smile showing both dimples. The smi
le I liked to think was only for me. The smile I hoped he would make when I tell him how I felt.
“Babe. I’m so proud of you. I hope he knows how fucking lucky he is to have you. I have to run, but let’s talk next week and plan our visit.”
“Sure, plan on staying with me for at least a night. Baxter misses his sleeping buddy.”
“You got it. Talk to you soon. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too. Bye Bird.”
I hung up the phone as Bird’s words sunk in. One simple conversation had me finally understanding and letting go of almost six years worth of guilt. Guilt that had consumed me and infested everything in my life. I’d let it poison my love life, my happiness, and my music. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since college, and if I was completely honest, I’d never gone all-in with another person.
A giant neon guitar reflected on the sidewalk and drew my eyes up. Hank’s Honkytonk had snuck up on me, and I stopped abruptly, stumbling in my boots. I walked up to the door as the sound of Luke Combs drifted to the street. The bouncer was a tall, bald guy as wide as a brick house with thick, corded muscles and tattoos snaking up his arms to his neck. He motioned me forward without a word and checked my ID before waving me in.
Call me crazy, but having tall, bald, and muscular at the door was reassuring. I was sure he could stop trouble with one stone-cold glance. Making my way up to the bar, I raised my hand to get the bartenders’ attention and perused the liquor.
“Hey there, pretty, the name’s Ace. What can I getcha?” The bartender said with a smile.
He was wearing tight jeans and a white tank with an armband to hold his bottle opener. He had messy hair and a beard, pulling off the classic cowboy look with ease. His hand tapped on the bar as he waited with a crooked smile.
“Jack and Coke, please Ace. And please send the bouncer by the door a refill.”
“You got it, doll. What’s your name?”
“Annaleigh,” I said.
“Annaleigh? Nice to meet you. Drinks coming right up.”
With a nod and a turn, he walked away, returning a minute later with my whiskey.