Music City Dreamers

by Robyn Nyx

  “Don’t say a word.” She accompanied the warning with a missile of sweet potato fries aimed at his face.

  Gabe held up his hands. “I got nothing.”

  The MC returned to the stage and announced the next act. A ragtag bunch of guys took to the stage and started their set with a rambunctious country rock effort. Heather smiled at her friends’ conversations, hoping she was doing it in all the right places, but her concentration was torn between Louie and Emma. Louie clearly lived and breathed country music. As soon as Emma began to sing, Louie looked zoned in on the stage to the apparent exclusion of all else, presumably allowing herself to be consumed by Emma’s stunning vocals and personal lyrics. Why Donny hadn’t signed her, Heather could only put down to a lack of courage. Emma’s songs were edgy, and she never shied away from the controversial.

  Louie’s disappointment when Emma’s set ended after just three songs was blatantly obvious, and Heather watched, fascinated, as she unleashed her appreciation with wild abandon. Louie looked at the ceiling, and Heather knew she was trying to stop herself from crying with the emotion of it all. Music moved her soul for sure. She wondered what kind of lyrics Louie wrote and what her process was. She’d presented as a street smart sex god, but there seemed to be a far gentler woman camouflaged in a foxhole behind her eyes.

  The scraping of a chair across the wooden floor brought Heather back to the evening.

  “How was I?”

  Emma positioned her seat beside Heather and put her hand on her thigh. Conscious of Louie’s potential interpretation of Emma’s gesture, Heather took Emma’s hand in her own. “Em, you were amazing.” She released Emma’s hand, mindful that wouldn’t look much better. She looked beyond Emma to glance over at Louie and smiled. Louie nodded before turning her attention back to the stage. She hoped Louie didn’t think they were together.

  “Distracted much?” Emma moved her head and blocked Heather’s view before turning to see the object of Heather’s preoccupation. “I’m confused. Who are you looking at?”

  “Nobody.” Heather knew she’d given herself away when she followed her disclaimer with a nibble of her lip. An obvious tell.

  Emma leaned in. “Feathers. Are you thinking of playing on my team? All I can see are pretty boys.”

  “Look again at the first table next to the bathrooms.” Heather clamped her hand on Emma’s forearm as she turned to look. “For goodness sake, Em, could you be less obvious?”

  Em waved her hand toward a waiter, and Heather watched her sweep over Louie from her toes to the cute little quiff in her hair. After she’d ordered a drink, Emma swiveled back in her chair. “The tall, skinny one’s a woman…she’s handsome. Isn’t she a little bit not your type at all? Like, not enough hair and boobs for you?”

  Heather tilted her head. “Not usually, but maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong. She kissed my hand.” This time, Heather yielded to the temptation to giggle and felt like a ninth grader ogling the swim team captain. “Would we call her skinny? I would’ve said athletic.”

  “Why don’t we go ask her to take her shirt off and we’ll measure her biceps?”

  Emma moved to rise from her chair, and Heather caught hold of her to keep her seated. “Oh my God, don’t you dare.”

  Emma laughed. “As if I was going to do that. How did her kissing your hand come to pass? Spill…everything.”

  Heather recounted the tale quickly, regularly glancing across to Louie and Gabe, but they seemed engrossed in the current band. She thought she was in Louie’s peripheral vision, but it was impossible to be sure.

  “What are you waiting for, then? Let’s go over there and have a drink. Gabe’s a cutey. A little young for me, but I’ll keep him entertained while you get to know Louie.”

  Heather shook her head at Emma’s use of air quotes around “get to know.” For some reason, Emma thought women hooking up on a first meeting was more acceptable than a guy and a woman. “I don’t know, Em. I like to keep a distance from performers, especially when they live with the hot woman I’d like to…I don’t want to give Gabe the wrong idea. I can’t tell him any more about his chances at Rocky Top than I already have.”

  “I’m sure he accepted that, and if he tries to talk about it some more, I’ll distract him.” Emma took Heather’s hand in hers and looked at her seriously. “Feathers, how long has it been since you relaxed a little and had some harmless fun?”

  Heather shrugged. She couldn’t say with any degree of certainty that she’d ever done that. And she’d never had the opportunity for a one-night stand. Not that she would have taken it had it ever been offered. It was presumptuous to think one was being offered now. But she did deserve some fun. She’d been working her ass off for five years and had landed a golden chance to prove herself worthy of a higher position with the label. The dream of running her own label was looking more like a reality she could achieve. Maybe she could relax and celebrate where she’d gotten to, especially working with Savana Hayes. It would be nice to speak to someone outside the business for a change. Someone new. Someone she could imagine taking home.

  “Fine.” Heather inhaled in an effort to soak up the courage she wanted to feel. “Let’s wait until the band swaps out with the girls.”

  On cue, the band finished their set, and Heather clapped as Emma’s friends took the stage. She stood, ready to head to Louie’s table before she changed her mind again but noticed Louie grab her jacket, all but leap from her seat, and take the long way around the tables to the exit. Heather’s hopes for the rest of the evening sank like a bad song to the bottom of the Billboard Hot 100. What about that drink?

  Chapter Eleven

  Louie swung the door open and gulped the warm night air as if she’d just come up from a deep-sea dive. She half-stumbled down the concrete ramp and held onto the metal rail for support. She heard the doorman call after her, but his words didn’t register. She looked right and left along the strip mall, for what, she had no idea. All she could see was Mia getting up on stage. The room seemed to close in and become even smaller, and Louie had to get out of there. Her first day in Nashville had been so picture-perfect, such an idyllic fairy tale, that Louie should’ve know better. She’d gotten carried away on the wave of luck she was riding, but predictably, it had just wiped her out and crashed her into shore, bedraggled and breathing hard.

  She spun around at the touch of a firm hand on her shoulder to find a concerned-looking Gabe.

  “Are you okay, Louie?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment and leaned against the rail while she tried to gather herself. Louie closed her eyes and tried to conjure up a coping tool, an image of some sort to help her deal with seeing her ex-lover, but everything evaded her.

  “Louie, what’s wrong?”

  “One of the women who just got up on stage is my ex.” When she heard her own explanation, it sounded lame. Like she was some lovestruck kid mooning over a lost love. Gabe must’ve thought so too because he didn’t answer. Louie imagined he was waiting for more detail that might explain her overreaction. “It’s a long story. You should go back in. I’m going to head home.”

  Gabe looked over his shoulder. His indecision may as well have been a comic cloud above his head. She had no idea how much he’d paid for that reservation, and there were still plenty of performers to come. Given his current financial situation, she didn’t want him missing out.

  “Hey. Aren’t you that black kid that thinks he can sing country?”

  Louie looked toward a group of three guys bearing down on them from the parking lot. Between the little light on the sidewalk and the Bluebird’s illuminations, Louie figured they were probably all in their mid-thirties. She saw Gabe straighten up, ready to stand his ground. Rounding off an already busted night with a fight didn’t appeal. She hadn’t had one since high school, and she intended to keep that record.

  “That depends—”

  “Yeah, you are. I was down at the Douglas the other night, having myself a good t
ime with the wife when you came on.”

  The guy in the middle spoke again, and Louie quickly scoped his two friends to get a feel for their intentions. Their eyes were already half-glazed; obviously their night had begun much earlier than Louie and Gabe’s. If they were looking for trouble, Louie decided she and Gabe would easily evade their clumsily swinging fists, get to her truck, and be out of there with minimum fuss.

  “And what did you think, sir?” Louie asked the pale paunchy one as she reached behind Gabe and tugged the back of his jacket to keep him from making any stupid moves.

  Paunchy guy looked up at Louie. “The wife liked him. Pissed me off.”

  Louie spotted his battered Titans ball cap. “You’re local, right?”

  He tugged on its peak. “Born and bred, kid. What about you?”

  “Wish I was. I just got in from Chicago, but I’m already in love with the place. I bet you could give us a tip or two about this business, huh?”

  Paunchy guy tapped Gabe on the shoulder firmly. “I sure could. You’re going to have a tough time trying to crack this town, looking like a gangbanger.”

  Louie kept Gabe’s jacket balled up in her fist. He might have a short fuse, so she was hoping her physical contact with him would keep him grounded. “But does he sound like one, sir?”

  He shrugged. “Not a bit. I closed my eyes and it was like listening to a regular white guy.”

  Louie didn’t miss Gabe’s jaw twitching, like he was clenching and unclenching his teeth to stop himself from knocking the guy out. Paunchy guy’s friends had grown a little twitchy too. She needed to distract them with one of the other things men like this treasured—ogling women. And if they heckled Mia, Louie traded it off as karma. “Are you guys going to the Bluebird now?” Her question pulled the attention of all three back to her, and they nodded or mumbled yes. “There’s a fantastic couple of girls singing right now. They’ve only just come on, but you should get in there or you’ll miss their whole set.”

  Paunchy guy’s buddies clapped him on the back. “That’s who we’ve come for, the two blond long-haired hotties Ted told us about. Let’s go.”

  Louie pulled Gabe backward to the metal railing to give space for the trio to pass. “Have a great night, guys,” she called after them and saw Heather standing a few feet away, looking good backlit by the Bluebird’s neon. She lifted her hand to acknowledge her, but her focus drew back to Gabe. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. No. No, I’m fine.”

  Louie moved to follow his gaze, which was falling anywhere but on her. “There are always going to be assholes like that wherever you go.” Contentment that she’d managed to avoid an ugly confrontation didn’t mask the steady shake at her core. Assholes like that were everywhere, and she’d half expected them to take offense against the way she looked. She’d had plenty of that experience. Maybe the amount of alcohol they’d consumed had blinded their senses some, and she was glad of that, especially with Heather in the background. Who knew how long she’d been standing there, and Louie didn’t want her thinking that she was a street thug. Louie accepted she was white trash in the eyes of someone as classy as Heather, but that didn’t mean she had to act like the worst stereotype. Her mom had raised her better than that.

  “I know. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, you know?”

  The look in his eyes suggested he knew Louie had probably had her share of altercations based on her non-traditional presentation, but she’d never compare what she’d been through to the racism Gabe had no doubt suffered. More words seemed patronizing so she just hung her arm over his shoulder. She snuck a glance back to see if Heather was still outside. Her heart jumped when she saw not only was she still there, but she’d begun to walk toward them.

  Louie snapped her keys from her jeans and shoved them at Gabe’s chest. “Any chance you could wait in the truck?”

  Gabe looked up to see Heather’s approach. “Sure, stud.” He took Louie’s keys but closed his hand over hers and sighed. “Could we talk though, y’know, when we get back home?”

  Back home, not back to the house. Gabe’s word choice spoke of both of their need to belong. Louie nodded and slapped him on the back as he left. The night had been so promising, but now she was heading home with her straight housemate rather than the sexy label exec. Gabe’s need to talk trumped her need to get laid. She’d pushed him on getting to his truth for a song, then they’d had a run-in with some rednecks. And as much as she wanted to see where that drink with Heather might lead, there was also the presence of Mia to contend with, and there was no way Louie wanted to go back into the Bluebird to hear her ex and her new floozy sing.

  “That looked like it could’ve gotten nasty if you hadn’t stepped in.”

  Heather had obviously watched enough of the incident to make an interpretation. Louie shoved her hands into her jeans and leaned back against the rail. Her instinct was to reach out and pull Heather closer. “Guys like that can usually be talked down from doing anything stupid.”

  “Still, you were brave.”

  Heather touched Louie’s forearm and smiled, but she seemed hesitant. Louie kept her hands deep in her pockets and resisted the urge to wrap her hand around the back of Heather’s neck and lean down to kiss her. Heather seemed interested, but it was mixed with an uncertainty Louie couldn’t miss. If Heather wanted something from her, she would have to make her need blatant.

  “You ducked out of the show in a hurry.”

  Louie rolled her neck. Talking about an ex wasn’t the kind of conversation Louie envisaged having with Heather. “It was hot. Had to get some fresh air.” Smooth. If Heather was interested, she’d soon be put off by Louie’s impression of a monosyllabic moron.

  Heather took a tentative step forward and rested her fingers on Louie’s belt. “Anything in particular making you hot?”

  Louie swallowed down what felt like a bowling ball of cotton wool. Most of her body hummed gently; a particular place, not so gently. “You…” It wasn’t a lie. Mia had been the reason Louie had vacated her seat as if her ass was on fire and the only remedy was outside the Bluebird’s door. But Heather was definitely the one making her hot in this moment. The thought of her new housemate needing support intruded, as unwelcome as a priest in a whorehouse. “I have to go.”

  Heather moved in so her breasts pressed against Louie’s ribs. “To support your friend?” Louie nodded. “That’s sweet.”

  She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed Louie lightly on the cheek before retreating to create an unwanted distance between them. Louie held fast, her fists balled in her pockets, furiously playing with change. “I’ll see you around?”

  “It’s a small town,” Heather said as she strutted back up the ramp and into the Bluebird.

  Louie watched, her desire inflamed by Heather’s sassiness. Her cockiness had hastily withdrawn and left her vulnerable and…genuine. She pushed away from the rail and sauntered toward her truck. Nashville already promised to fulfill all her dreams.

  Chapter Twelve

  Oh my God. Where the hell did that vamp act come from? Heather returned to her seat, feeling a little buzzed and blaming that for her brazen bravery. Another table had been added, and Mia and Diane had joined them. Heather shook her head in Emma’s direction, warning her that she’d be saying nothing in front of those two. She hadn’t sat down before it was clear Mia had already taken control of the conversation.

  “I can’t believe it. After what she did to me, I hoped I’d never see her again.”

  Heather tried to tune her out. She didn’t know what Mia was talking about, and she didn’t want to know. Emma had naughtily refilled Heather’s glass, a ploy she always used to ensure Heather stayed out that little bit longer than she intended. Get through this drink and she’d be able to leave. Emma would understand. She knew well enough that Heather’s patience for Mia’s and Diane’s constant dramatization of their lives irritated her beyond words.

  Mia’s words drifted back into her awareness.


  “She was violent when she drank, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to leave. I had no choice.”

  Diane wrapped her arms around Mia and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay, baby. I know you did.”

  Emma tapped Heather’s thigh and motioned toward the bathroom with a nod. Heather waited until Emma was halfway there before she joined her. Emma said nothing until the stalls were empty and they were alone.

  “She’s talking about your Louie.”

  Heather shook her head. “She’s not my Lou—what do you mean?” Louie was a violent drunk? Surely not.

  “Mia says they used to live together. Apparently, they moved from Wisconsin to Chicago to earn enough money to make it to Nashville. The way Mia is telling it, your girl has a dark past, Feathers. She’s making her sound like Jekyll and Hyde.”

  Heather sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. The sexual confidence she’d just sprayed all over Louie faded like an old photograph exposed to bright light. All she saw in her reflection was a lost opportunity. “Do you believe her?”

  Emma took Heather’s hands in her own. “Whether Mia’s tale is true or not doesn’t matter.” Emma smiled. “You haven’t been interested in anyone like this in all the time I’ve known you. You owe it to yourself to hear the story straight from Louie’s mouth.” Emma let go of Heather’s hands, took a step back, and winked. “I’ve heard all about you lesbians. You can be evil about each other when you’ve been scorned. It’s the only reason I don’t let you flip me like a pancake.”