His For Keeps: (50 Loving States, Tennessee) Read online

  Then I tell Beau, “She came by for the show yesterday, and he's scheduled to meet her for brunch today. Colin was going to use me to make her jealous, but from what I'm putting together, that plan wouldn't have worked out so well.”

  Colin takes me by the arm, his voice as ominous as a tornado warning. “If you tell him, all those hopes and dreams of yours? Well, I'm going to make sure they never happen.”

  “Don't listen to him,” Beau says before launching into an argument about why I need to ignore Colin and help him.

  I barely hear him over Colin's hard glare. He's not kidding, I can tell. If I help Beau get to Josie, he's not just going to call off our demo deal and the meeting with Geoff Latham, he'll do everything in his power to make sure I never get a publishing deal. Because he's that kind of devil. His hat's all the way off now, and I can see his horns, clear as day.

  “…I am nothing without Josie,” Beau's saying now. “She is the love of my life. So please tell me how to find her. Plus, whatever Fairgood is paying you, I will double it.”

  “You can't pay her what she'd be giving up if she says one more word,” Colin answers before I can. He stares me down hard. “One more word and your career is over, I swear to God,” he says to me.

  I stare back at Colin, my chest tight to the point of hurting. It's clear I have to make a choice now. Between the devil who could make all my career dreams come true, and Beau Prescott, the boy I've been loving from afar since I was a teenager.

  10

  I choose Beau. Of course, I choose Beau. It’s stupid. Worse than stupid. It’s career ending before your career even has a chance to get started level stupid. But this is Beau. Beau.

  I can’t think of a way not to quietly take him by the arm and lead him out of the suite.

  Thankfully, Colin doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to stop us. Just let’s us leave without another word. But I can feel his blue eyes burning into my back as we go.

  I once saw this movie called The Graduate. Not my kind of thing at all. It was old, and not cool old like Star Wars, just old-old without any special effects. But it was late and I couldn’t find the remote control and I’d had a long day and hadn’t felt like getting up to change the channel on my grandma’s old thirty-five inch. I’ll always remember the surprise ending. The short guy pulling the beautiful bride out of her wedding on to a bus... then both of them looking like, “Oh, shit, what did we just do?”

  Riding downstairs in the elevator with Beau feels exactly like the end of that movie. Thrilling at first, like “we did it!” But then, things get awkward.

  “So how much do I owe you…” he starts to say.

  “I don’t want your money for that,” I quickly assure him. Because I really, really don’t. Then I rush on to tell him that Josie’s due here any second, and his best plan of action is probably to just wait for her in the lobby so Colin can’t add his two cents this time when Beau tries to talk to her about coming back to him.

  Beau nods. “Good plan,” he says. But then he asks, “Do I know you? You seem… familiar.”

  Does he know me?

  “No,” I say. “I don’t think so.”

  It’s the truth. I know him, but as far as I ever knew, he doesn’t know me. Not really. We’ve only met once before, and under rife circumstances that didn’t call for any kind of formal introductions. So it doesn’t feel like a lie when I tell him he doesn’t know me.

  “I think I do,” he says with a frown. “I’m remembering your voice for some reason.”

  “Well, let me know if you remember,” I say, keeping my voice as casual as I can.

  Beau inclines his head. “I’ll do that.”

  Thankfully we reach the bottom floor, and the doors open, ending that particular line of conversation. And I see Josie walk into the hotel doors on the other side of The Alabama Grand’s lobby just as we’re walking out of the elevator.

  “Josie just came in,” I say to Beau, playing it cool so Josie doesn’t know we’ve spotted her. “She looks pretty shocked to see you.”

  “No doubt,” Beau says. “She came here to meet with Colin. She didn’t expect to see me. Plus, the last time we saw each other, I was looking pretty rough. She might not even recognize me.”

  “Oh, she knows it’s you all right. She’s eyeing a ficus, like she’s fixing to hide behind it.”

  Beau chuckles. “I’m glad you’re here, or she might have gotten past me.”

  “I wouldn’t tell her that,” I say to Beau, thinking how embarrassed I’d be if a blind ex-boyfriend caught me hiding from him. “Maybe just say you could smell her perfume or something.”

  Beau grins. He’s so handsome, it’s almost hard to look at him. “Good advice. Thanks for everything,” he says.

  Then he hugs me! Beau Prescott hugs me!

  And for the few moments I’m in his arms, I really do feel a little light-headed, like I could straight faint. Luckily, he let’s me go before the woozy feeling gets too overwhelming.

  Then he takes a device out of his pocket and presses a button on it. A beam of light comes out, making it look like he’s walking with a light saber in front of him. It’s obviously some kind of walking stick for the blind, but more high tech than any I’ve ever seen. He heads over to Josie, who really did decide to hide behind that lobby ficus, and I can tell by the determined set of his back that he’s already forgotten all about me.

  Blind or not, he only has eyes for Josie.

  “WAS IT WORTH IT?”

  I ignore Colin when I come back into the penthouse suite and head to the bathroom. Five minutes to gather up my stuff up and I can get out of here. There’s no need to let myself get distracted from the main task by the coyote in the black Stetson.

  But Colin follows me to the bathroom, leans against the doorway, and watches me throw all my makeup into a cosmetics bag. Other than my purse, it’s all I brought with me. A couple of hours—that was all this job was supposed to be. A couple of hours and all my dreams would come true courtesy of Colin Fairgood.

  A couple of days later, I’m close to laughing at myself for ever thinking that would happen.

  However, there’s nothing funny about the blue ice of Colin’s hard stare as he says, “I hope you got something out of that. Hope you really did make him pay you twice what I did.”

  Of course I didn’t. I could never take money from Beau.

  I don’t answer Colin. What would I possibly say anyway? “Yes, it was worth it, because Beau hugged me, and I’d do anything for Beau.”

  No, I doubt the truth wouldn’t help matters much. So I just zip up my makeup bag, and push past him out the bathroom door.

  But Colin follows me again.

  “Guess what, Red. You just fucked yourself. When I get back to Nashville, I’m going to put a whole lot of effort into making sure nobody who wants to do business with me ever does business with you. You won’t even be able to get onstage at an open mike after I’m done, that’s how bad I’m going to make this for you,” he tells me as I head out to the living room.

  I try to ignore him. I really do. I get that his threats aren’t really about me. I try to think of him like he’s one of my clients. The ones who scream at me when they fall down in another room. Because they’re embarrassed. Because they hate what they’ve become. Because they don’t have anybody else to take it out on.

  I don’t answer. I just keep on holding my tongue, keep on heading for the door.

  But he continues to stalk after me. “After I’m done you won’t even be able to sweep the floors at a music publishing company.”

  I grab my purse off the couch. Now I’ve got everything, and I’m almost to the door.

  “Matter of fact, I’m going to have Ginny call your agency. Bet I can make sure you don’t get another home health aide job. Definitely not in Nashville, maybe not in the whole state of Tennessee.”

  That stops me in my tracks, because now he’s not just threatening my dreams but the job I need to support my grandma and m
e. “I’m sorry,” I tell him.

  Behind me, I hear him come to a stop, too. “You think sorry is going to cut it after what you did?” he snaps.

  I raise myself up as tall as I can get, just like my grandma taught me to do, when facing down folks who think they’re better than you. Then I slowly turn around to face him.

  “No, I’m not sorry for taking Beau’s side in that mess you created. I’d do it again. What I’m sorry about is your mama, Colin. I’m sorry she died.”

  He flinches like I’ve shot him, point blank in the chest. Then he snarls, “This don’t have anything to do with my—”

  “And I’m sorry you couldn’t fill the hole your mama left behind with your friend, Josie. I can see why you like her. She seems like real stellar girl. But she’s in love with Beau. Anybody can see she don’t want you. She wants him.”

  “She’s not—” Colin shakes his head, with one angry swipe. “She’s not thinking straight. She went through an abusive marriage and she might want Beau, but he’s not what she needs. What she needs is—”

  “What you need is a friend. That’s what people need when they lose somebody they love. They need family and friends. If I hadn’t had my cousin, Bernice, around to help get me through after my Paw Paw died, I would have fallen straight to pieces when my grandma needed me the most. So that’s what I’m most sorry about. I’m sorry you don’t have a big family like I do, Colin. I’m sorry you don’t seem to have too many real friends. I’m sorry you fucked it up so Josie couldn’t be the friend you need right now even if she wanted to. That’s what I’m sorry about. But that’s all I’m sorry about.”

  For a moment, Colin looks so furious I’m reminded of that night when Mike broke his violin. And then I’m reminded of it some more when he says, “Get out. Get out right now before I lose all sense and….”

  He doesn’t finish. But he doesn’t have to.

  Last time I felt like I had something to prove by staying. But I ain’t fifteen anymore. This time I get out. This time I run, as fast as my high heels will carry me.

  And maybe that would have been the end of it, but just as I slam the door behind me, I see somebody standing there in the hallway, her mouth hanging open and her eyes popped big with shock.

  It’s Josie. And I can tell from the look on her face that she must have overheard everything I just said.

  11

  Six weeks later

  Colin answers the phone in record time the next time I call him. Mainly because he thinks it's Josie calling… because that's who I told his assistant I was when I called the only number I've ever been given for him.

  Ginny barely has time to say, “Let me just see if he's avail-” before her voice is cut off by the sound of somebody snatching the phone away.

  “Josie! What is it? Are you okay?” comes Colin's concerned voice on the other side of the phone.

  “It's not Josie,” I say right off the bat, because I'm already feeling guilty enough for calling him. “I just said that to get past Ginny. It's actually Kyra.”

  I resist the urge to hold the phone away from my ear as a whole bunch of cusses peppered with words like “nerve” and “gall” come down the line. For a nerd who was working toward a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Violin performance before he dropped out of college to become a country singer, Colin sure does seem to know how to cuss like a real southern boy.

  I wait for him to finish and say, “So I'm calling to let you know I ran into Josie after our last conversation.”

  Long pause. Then. “And what did she say?”

  “That I was absolutely right. That you do need a friend and she was sorry she wouldn't able to be the friend you needed, since she'd just five minutes before accepted Beau's proposal of marriage.”

  “So you called me pretending to be Josie, so you could rub it in?” Colin's voice sounds like a block of ice on the other side of the phone.

  “Nah, I'm not the rubbing in kind,” I let him know. “But I have been thinking on your situation. And it's true you need a friend, so that's why I'm calling.”

  It takes him a few moments to piece together what I'm trying to say. “You're calling because you think I need a friend,” he says slowly.

  “Because I know you need a friend,” I correct.

  “And you're claiming to want to be my friend. Why? Are you looking for some kind of handout? Because if you think I'm going to help you with your demo now-”

  I cut him off. “Can we just skip all the threatening and insult throwing this time around? You want the truth? Here's the truth. I found a new job. A real good one. Easy. Pays above my agency standard, and the client's real nice. Likes to do pretty much everything himself but needs help with groceries and the cooking and getting around outside the house. Believe me, I'm feeling real blessed right now, which got me to thinking because my grandma's always saying when life gives you lemonade you should pay it forward by pouring somebody else a glass, too. So here I am calling you.”

  “Because you think I need a friend,” he says, his voice sounding like somebody who thinks he's trying to get sold road kill for supper.

  “Because I know you need a friend,” I repeat.

  A dead pause. Then he asks, “Where is this new job of yours?”

  “Like I'm going to tell you so you can get me fired from the cushiest gig I ever had? Not likely, sir.”

  “I can always find out through your agency.”

  “Nope. Got this job through a private ad. You're going to have to put a detective on me if you want to find out.”

  “I just might do that,” he said.

  “Alright, you go right on ahead and do that. I'm all for you wasting your precious country star time, trying to track down a little nobody like me. It'll make me feel special when you find me,” I answer. “Meanwhile what you up to tonight? Sounds quiet where you are.”

  “I'm in my dressing room in Dallas before the show. Room's pretty well insulated. But trust, it's going to get noisy as soon as I leave out those doors.”

  “What you doing? Reading a book?”

  “How'd you know?”

  “Because I'm in my room by myself and that's what I'm doing.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “The latest Clara Quinn novel,” I answer. “You heard of her?”

  “The sci-fi writer. In passing-that one year she won the Hugo. But I've never read any of her stuff.”

  “You should, I'm only halfway through her first book, but it's really good. What are reading?”

  “Johnny Cash biography.”

  I laughed, not surprised. “Business reading?”

  “Little bit. Also, he's a real interesting guy. This is the third biography I've read on him, and I've never been bored.”

  “I'm more interested in June Carter Cash, but they're not writing a ton of biographies about her,” I said.

  “'Ring of Fire,' fan, hunh?”

  “Of course I am. I learned to play the guitar by ear, picking out that song.”

  “You play by ear?” he said.

  “Yeah,” I admit. “There wasn't exactly a fine music program where I went to school. I got a few books from the library to fill in the blanks. So I can read music if I have, too. But most of the old songs, I just play by ear.”

  Colin grows quiet on the other side of the line.

  “Colin?” I say, wondering if we've lost the connection. My new room is in the house's attic, and depending on the wind conditions outside, the reception can get spotty.

  “I gotta go,” he says. “I don't have time to horse around on the phone. Especially with you.”

  “How about tomorrow?” I ask him. “You got time to horse around on the phone with me tomorrow?”

  He straight hangs up on me.

  I lower my phone and sigh.

  “No luck?”

  I look up and find Josie standing in the doorway of my new attic room. It's almost a familiar sight these days. She used to live in this
room when she was a kid and her mother worked for the Prescott family, and then for a few months when she was an adult and got called in to work for Beau after his accident.

  Ever since I'd started working here a few weeks ago, she'd taken to popping in after work to see how I was doing and have a little girl talk. I'd gotten used to having my cousin, Bernice, up the road to talk to whenever I needed so I'd grown real fond of having another woman my age to talk to for a little bit at night, now that I was far from home, all the way down in Alabama. Josie's sister-friend company is a whole 'nother perk of what truly has been the cushiest job assignment I've ever landed.

  I'd thought Josie was pretty cool before I met her, but now I think she's straight up amazing. She's funny, smart, and so kind-which is why I hate to disappoint her. But I'm already lying to her about so much, so I tell her the truth about this.

  “He hung on me,” I answer with an apologetic shake of my head.

  Josie's shoulders slump. “Well, we knew it would be a long shot,” she says. “But, hey, thanks for trying. Maybe I'll try talking to Beau. Explain to him why I really do need to be in touch with Colin. I mean, yeah, they had words, but he has to understand Colin is going through some stuff.”

  I twist my mouth, ready to explain to her like my grandma would why even the least possessive guy wouldn't be cool with his fiancée talking to the “friend” who'd plain stated he wanted to be more with her and on more than one separate occasion. Why that would probably be just asking too much of Beau or any other man.

  But before I can say anything, my phone dings. I look at the message. It's from a 615 number-a Nashville area code. And it says: “This is my direct number. Call me back tomorrow at 4pm MT.”

  12

  “You ever going to tell me your Alabama story?” Colin asks me a couple months later.

  “You ever going to quit asking about it?” I ask him back. I'm in the grocery store, throwing enough stuff in the basket to get Beau, Josie, and me through for a few days.