“Takedown notices,” I answer. “People are constantly pirating Stella’s videos.”
“Can’t a lot of that be automated?”
“Rooster’s very hands on with our content,” Z explains with a dickish smirk.
I shrug. “The shit’s expensive to produce.”
Hope lets out a long, sarcastic sigh. “Well, as much as I’d enjoy surfing for pornography and drafting notices all day long—”
I hold up a hand. “I’m not asking you to, Hope. That was all Z.”
Z grins up at her.
The corners of Hope’s mouth twitch with amusement. “Are you worried that I’m bored, Z?”
“Nope. Just trying to keep work in the family.”
“I have a company in mind,” I say. “They’re fuckin’ expensive though.”
“Take it out of Stella’s end,” Z says.
“Yeah, that sounds more like a conversation you should have with her.”
“Let Sway handle it. They’re tight these days.” Rock smirks into his coffee cup.
“You got a timeframe for when you want me to run down to Virginia?” I ask Z.
“Soon. T-Bone’s been bitching about us not coming to visit for a while now.”
“I’ll work it out. Probably gonna take Jiggy with me.”
“I figured.” Z drums his fingers against the table for a second. “Here’s what I’m thinking. Get Virginia set up and profitable. Then we have something solid to convince Washington to move in the same direction. Two successful charters. Not a fluke.”
“All right. That makes sense.”
“While your early morning visit has been delightful…” Rock’s dry tone makes it clear our visit was anything but. “…why don’t we finish this at the table?”
My feet are already moving toward the front door.
Outside, I wait for Z. Once we’re closer to the clubhouse, I stop him with a hand to his chest. “Hold up.”
He raises an eyebrow and glances down at my hand.
“For the record, I never felt like you came in and ‘stole’ our charter from Sway. You know that, Z. Right?”
“Fuck yeah, I do.”
“If anything, I feel like we stole you away from your home.” I glance at the woods around us, painfully aware Z had been planning to build a house on this property for his family.
“It’s worked out,” he answers, sidestepping the conversation. He slaps my shoulder. “Come on. Lots to discuss this morning.”
“I’m gonna run up and check on Shelby first.” I glance back at Rock’s house. No sign of him yet.
“Yeah, go ahead.” He follows my line of sight and smirks. “He’ll be a while. No doubt.”
Chapter Seventeen
Shelby
After Rooster leaves, I finish my laundry. It’s early so no one’s awake yet.
I return to the room, locking the door behind me as Rooster asked.
One thing I didn’t get to do last night because I was too embarrassed—a reading.
First, I need to put myself in the right frame of mind. I make the bed, smoothing the comforter out and stacking all the pillows at the top. I can’t find any candles but I switch off the overhead light and pull the blinds up. Morning sunlight streams into the bedroom, a sliver of it landing over the bed.
That’ll do.
I grab a towel from the bathroom, spread it on the throw rug and kneel, touching my big toes together, widening my knees and sinking back into extended child’s pose for a few breaths. From there, I do a few spinal flexes and move into downward dog, then warrior one. When I’m feeling calm and centered, I end with my hands at my heart.
After tugging my backpack open, I pull my dark green velvet pouch from the bottom and climb into the center of the bed. One by one, I unpack the contents of the pouch—colorful square cloth, notebook, pen, amethyst crystal, and my favorite deck of tarot cards.
I pull the cards from their magnetic box and hold them in my hands, closing my eyes in an attempt to connect with them and form my question in my mind.
Last night, Rooster and I…what we discussed was huge. Trying to turn this into a relationship. There’s a giddiness in my stomach but fear lingers in my heart.
Where is this relationship headed? Will it mess with my career? Can I be in a relationship? Am I cut out for a long-distance relationship? Can career and love co-exist?
Nope. Too many questions for a simple read.
Where is this relationship headed?
I focus on that question while shuffling the deck. My skills are weaker than a baby bird’s wingspan. I haven’t been seriously reading cards as long as my momma but I sort through them until I’m satisfied, then lay them out. One, two, three. Past, present, future.
First, the past. Today it feels like I should reflect on where we’ve been to understand where we’re going.
Ten of Pentacles.
Hmm. I haven’t gotten that one often. I need to look it up.
I flip over the middle card—the present—next.
The Lovers.
Wow, obvious, much, universe? My lips can’t help but curve up.
Finally, I turn over the last card—what the future holds.
The World.
I sit back and study the cards, attempting to create a story from the pictures in front of me before I pull out my guide and read their meanings.
Past, where we started. That’s easy. A one-night hookup that turned into two, three, four nights, and now, here we are. I pick up the book that came with the deck and flip through it.
Ten of Pentacles. Strong bonds and opportunities in a relationship.
Well, Rooster and I definitely had a spark and connection in the beginning.
The Lovers. A unique bond between two people. Mutual trust and respect. An authentic and deep connection.
The sex is hot for sure. We connect well in that area. But there’s more. I’ve felt it from the beginning. Obviously, Rooster feels it too.
The World. This is always a positive card for me. I’ve never had it come up in a love reading before—not that I’ve done one in a long time. It has come up in career readings, something I’ve always taken as a sign that my dreams will come true if I work hard and don’t lose faith.
Maybe my questions were too jumbled up in my mind.
My galloping heart doesn’t want to slow.
Or maybe Rooster and I are meant to be. I can have both.
If anyone can help me get clarity on the cards, it would be the one who taught me to read in the first place.
I reach over and pluck my cell phone off the nightstand. I forgot to plug it in last night but still have enough charge to call my mom.
“Shelby!” she answers. “Where are you?”
“At Rooster’s clubhouse.”
“Oh.”
For someone who asked for a picture of him yesterday, she doesn’t sound all that excited. “I had a day off. He’s taking me to the hospital later for a Dream Maker connection.”
“That’s mighty sweet of him.”
I hesitate for a moment. “I played ‘Empty Room’ last night.”
“Shelby,” she sighs.
Sure, she doesn’t want to talk about Hayley. I get it. I probably shouldn’t even remind her when I’m so far away.
“I got the video of you singing with Dawson Roads,” Mom says in a brighter tone. “What was it like being on stage with him?”
It already seems like a dream. Day before yesterday, I would’ve still been going over every second of the performance this morning. But something about last night with Rooster has pushed everything else out of my foolish brain.
“It was incredible. I made my entrance using the riser. Had me nervous as a kitty-cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Worried I’d trip and roll my way onto the stage.”
She laughs softly. “I couldn’t tell. You looked fabulous, honey. I’m so proud.”
“I flubbed a line or two but kept right on going.” Just like you taught me.
&n
bsp; “Good job, Shelbs.”
While she goes on about showing the video to everyone at the restaurant we both wait tables at back home, I nibble on my thumbnail debating whether I should ask her opinion on the cards or not.
“So…” I pick up the Lovers card and tap it against my notebook a few times before setting it off to the side. “I did a reading this morning…”
“Do tell.”
That eagerness in her voice won’t last long. “I, uh…”
It was a good reading. Rooster and I have a shot. That’s the only way to interpret the cards that makes any sense. Why am I’m struggling to follow my own intuition? Why am I seeking my mother’s approval when I know she’ll never give it?
“Shelby?” she prompts.
I relay the cards and their positions.
Momma’s silence on the other end tells me all I need to know about her interpretation of the cards and her opinion. “What were you asking, Shelby?”
“Rooster and I talked last night. We were makin’ plans…I wanted to be sure…”
She sighs. “Now isn’t the time.”
“That’s kinda what I was asking. Where is this relationship headed?”
“Shelby,” she says in a more forceful tone, “I like Rooster. He’s lovely to look at—”
“He’s more than that, Momma.” A spark of anger fires me up. “Yesterday you seemed happy I was gonna see him.”
“Sure. Thought you’d shake the sheets, have some fun, not plan a future with him.”
“We’re not planning a future.” Not really. “We talked about him coming to visit me on the road more. He understands how important this is to me.”
“He’ll say that now, but next thing you know, you’ll be gettin’ knocked up—”
“Jesus, Momma,” I snap. “I know how birth control works.”
“Sometimes that don’t matter.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my throbbing temple. “You should’ve seen how sweet he was yesterday, helping me out, lookin’ after me at the meet-and-greet when some grabby-handed jerk decided to help himself to an ass squeeze, recordin’ that video and sending it to you—”
“How’d he feel ’bout you singing with Dawson? Can’t imagine that went over well.”
“He was fine with it. Hells bells, Dawson’s old enough to be my dad.”
She scoffs. “Not quite.”
“Rooster understood it was a big deal for me.”
“This ain’t the time to be off wool gatherin’. You lose your heart to some bossy biker, you’ll be giving up everything you’ve worked for your whole life.”
Too late. I lost the battle for my heart the day Rooster fished me out of the San Antonio River.
“A man like that won’t tolerate his woman running all over the country for months at a time,” she continues. “And how’re you gonna trust him not to screw around behind your back while you’re on the road? You don’t need the distraction right now, Shelby.”
“Love’s not a choice, Momma,” I whisper. “I can’t make it happen when it’s convenient.”
“Baby, there are plenty of men out there. You’re young, beautiful, talented. You’ll fall in love when it’s the right time.” She completely ignores what I said. “You got an itch, scratch it with some of those nice boys showin’ up with flowers after your shows. What about Trent? He’s been cow eyed forever over ya.”
“’Cause I can’t get knocked up tearin’ up the sheets with every guy who looks at me sideways? You’re not making sense.”
“I get it. You’re young. Full of hormones.”
“Dammit, Momma! I’m not some cat in heat who can’t control herself.”
She’s silent on the other end.
“I’ve sacrificed so much for you, Shelby. Your whole life. Gave up everything for you. And your father.” She spits out the last word. “You want to end up like me? A forty-year-old waitress?”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with honest work. And you could still sing if—”
“Those days are gone for me. Don’t make my same mistakes.”
“I’m not.” It sure gets old having her refer to me as a mistake.
“You’re so stubborn. Always have been.”
“That’s not true.”
“Use that stubbornness to make your dreams come true, Shelby. Not to fight me.”
“I’m on this tour, aren’t I?”
“Good. Now, I love you. When’s your next show?”
There’s no point fighting. She’s made up her mind and expects me to fall in line. “Tomorrow night.”
“Rooster’s taking you?”
“Yup,” I answer with a note of defiance.
“Is it your last show in New York?”
“Yes, why?”
“Then when you’re finished, say goodbye and be done with him before your hearts get any more entangled.”
My burst of defiance gives way to defeat. “Sure.”
“Love you, Shelby. Let me know how the next show goes.”
“Bye, Momma.” I almost choke on the lump in my throat. “Love you too.”
“I’m sorry if I seem harsh, Shelby. But trust me on this. You can’t depend on anyone but yourself. Rooster will say all sorts of things now. Heck, he’ll probably mean every word. But men can’t change their nature. You don’t need a man to be happy.”
“I never said I did.” I don’t need Rooster to make me happy, but I sure do crave his smooth, mellow voice at the end of a long, grueling day. He always listens and offers words of encouragement—something I seem to require more than usual these days.
“Use him for what he’s good for and be on your way,” she says.
Maybe she’ll never believe me, but Rooster’s good for more than sex. These last few months, it’s been nice to have someone—besides my mother—to share good stuff with. Like, the deal I landed that put two of my songs in heavy rotation in every single Southwest Steakhouse in the country. Rooster had been so stoked when he saw my picture in his local restaurant, he called me right away.
I don’t need years of experience to know men like Rooster are rare.
Arguing with her when she’s wound up on this topic is pointless. “Sure.”
“You need to invest your time and energy into yourself, not a relationship.”
Tears well up in my eyes. I’m so done with this conversation. “You’re right,” I answer in a calm, even voice. “I’ll end it tomorrow.”
I hang up, only feeling a little guilty for lying to my momma.
Chapter Eighteen
Shelby
Something scratches against the lock and a few seconds later the door swings open.
Rooster. Even better-looking than he was when he left.
I swipe a stray tear or two off my cheeks, swallow down the lump in my throat, and force a bright smile.
He’s not fooled.
“Who were you talking to?” He steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He’s all menacing scowl, as if he wants to hunt down whoever has upset me.
“My mom.”
His frown gives way to a smile. “How is Lynn? She get the videos?”
“Oh, yeah. She wanted all the details.”
His gaze drops to the tarot cards spread out in front of me.
I lean forward and hurry to scoop them up—not that he would be able to interpret the cards any better than I did. No, I bet a logical, practical man like Rooster would think I was ridiculous for dabbling in this stuff.
“What’s that?” One corner of his mouth twitches.
“Nothing.”
“You trying to talk to spirits or ghosts or somethin’?” He flashes a grin.
I roll my eyes. “You’re thinking of a Ouija board. Not the same thing. At all.”
He moves closer to the bed. Concern darkens his features. “What’s wrong? You look upset. Is your mom okay?”
Bet he wouldn’t give a damn if he knew how adamant she was that we shouldn’t be more than fuck buddies.
&nb
sp; I sniffle, annoyed with myself for letting my momma rattle my cage. I’m twenty-two years old. But her dang guilt trips do me in every time. I’m tired of feeling responsible for ruining her life.
“She’s fine.” I let out a sad laugh and shake my head. “Opinionated as ever.”
“Was she happy about your duet?”
“Oh yeah.”
He drops down on the edge of the bed and I reach over, placing my hand over his. Gosh, he’s big. “Be honest—did it bother you? Me singing with Dawson?”
His mouth twists and he glances away.
My heart sinks.
Momma was right.
“Hey.” He places a finger under my chin and lifts my head. “Bother isn’t the right word. I can’t lie, though. I want to beat any man who gets too close to you half to death.” His lips quirk. “But I can control myself.” He half shrugs. “Most of the time.”
His teasing finally pulls a chuckle from me. “Great. Feeling much better now.”
“I’m not dumb, Shelby.” His mouth flattens into a serious line. “I get how important last night was for you. You need the visibility. I hope every one of his fans went home and bought your album. Don’t ever think you have to turn down an opportunity like that because it’s going to make me jealous.”
Shoot, if all these sweet words keep flowing past his lips, I’ll never stop falling for him. I push forward onto my knees and shuffle closer, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Now, if he touches you offstage, or says something inappropriate, all bets are off. I will fuck him up.”
I shake with laughter. “That’s fair.”
“I meant what I said. I want to be by your side, not stand in your way.”
My silly heart sprouts wings and threatens to fly out of my chest. Too bad I’m about to open my big mouth and risk slapping it down. “Yeah?” I tease, feeling shitty for what I’m about to say. “The big, bossy biker won’t eventually demand I put down some roots? Be home to cook dinner?”
“Is that how you see me?” He cocks his head. Shoot, maybe I hurt his feelings. “Some meathead asshole who thinks your career is a cute little hobby?”
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