Music City Dreamers

by Robyn Nyx

  Heather looked at Savana for some sign that she wasn’t being completely serious but saw only sincerity. How could Savana have jumped from an unsolicited kiss to a full-on relationship? Was she that used to getting what she wanted and people never saying no that she applied the same logic to her relationships? “Savana, I’ve always loved your music and I really enjoy working with you, but…be with you?” Heather became aware Donny had ended his conversation when he strode into her periphery. She fell silent and simply shook her head.

  Savana’s nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. Heather tried to relax, unsure of what the consequences of saying no to her might be.

  “So, what are your thoughts, Savana? Did you consider Heather’s logic in how we might handle this?” asked Donny after he sat on the couch opposite them both.

  Heather didn’t like the obvious inference that this was a joint decision, but she wasn’t surprised. His loyalty was to the company’s bank balance, and keeping Savana happy was his top priority.

  Savana looked sideways at Heather as she moved closer to Donny, and Heather got the impression she was about to discover the consequences of her refusal sooner than she’d expected.

  “I haven’t changed my mind, Donny. There are plenty of great songwriters out there with a damn sight more professionalism than Louie Francis. Just because she’s talented doesn’t mean she should be allowed to behave any way she pleases.”

  How Savana didn’t choke on her last sentence, Heather had no idea. Surely she realized that she’d just described herself. If Donny caught the irony, he didn’t show it.

  “So what are you saying?” asked Donny.

  “Exactly what I said to you Friday. I want her out of Rocky Top and I want her out of my city.”

  The whole meeting began to feel a little like a bear trap, and Heather had done little to prepare Louie for it. After they’d kissed, Heather had been caught up in the date, forgetting the fact that Donny had threatened to blackball Louie across the city. She ran the conversation over in mind and realized she’d made this meeting sound like a small formality. “You can’t do that!”

  “What makes you think that?”

  Christ, I said that out loud. The knock on the door prevented Heather from responding. Donny commanded the visitor to enter, and Louie walked in dressed in a smart shirt tucked into skinny jeans. She’d finished the outfit with a tie, and she looked amazing. Heather knew it was completely the wrong choice of clothes for a meeting with this homophobic asshole, but she was pretty certain that Louie wouldn’t be seen in a skirt or dress for any amount of money. Louie grinned at Heather, and it made her smile, albeit briefly.

  Donny didn’t offer Louie a seat. Instead, he stood and returned to the chair behind his desk.

  “You know why you’re here, and I’m not one to beat around the bush. You’re done, Francis.”

  Louie nodded. “I was under the impression I already was. I finished the album. I’ve only come here today as a professional courtesy.”

  Louie looked at Heather, and it seemed like she was holding back what she really wanted to say in response. Heather was thankful for that, but she didn’t expect it to last if Donny told her what else he was planning.

  “So we’re done and I should go now.” Louie thumbed toward the door.

  “We’re done, yes,” said Donny. “And you’re done in this town. You don’t disrespect the Queen of Country and expect to work in Nashville again.”

  Donny pulled out a cigar and bit down on it as if he were signaling the end of the conversation. His nonchalance was outrageous, but Heather felt powerless to do anything about it.

  Louie ran her hand across the back of her head. “Exactly what is it I’m supposed to have done that was so wrong?”

  Donny’s face fell blank, and it became clear that Savana hadn’t given him any real details. She didn’t need to. As far as he was concerned, it was only a matter of time before Louie did something unprofessional or unacceptable. That’s what he expected of anyone who didn’t fit into his narrow construct of a decent human being.

  “Did she tell you that I walked in on her pinning Heather to the mixing desk and forcing herself on her?” asked Louie, her voice rising with each word.

  Donny spat his cigar out onto his desk and pushed out of his chair. “What?”

  His sense of absolute disbelief was tangible.

  “You heard me,” said Louie. She waved her hand in the direction of Savana. “Your Queen of Country was hitting on Heather and Heather wasn’t interested,” said Louie. “All I did was stop what might have turned into a serious sexual assault, and you’re trying to ruin my career for that?”

  Oh God. A rush of competing emotions and reactions struck at once. What did she expect Louie to do when threatened with being blackballed? She stood up for herself just like Heather had thought she would. But this made everything worse…for her. Heather tried to stop herself from being so selfish. At least she’d added that Heather wasn’t interested and hadn’t exactly outed her.

  Donny tilted his head and looked at Savana. “Is that true?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Savana sounded defensive, and for the first time, Heather thought she saw a hint of vulnerability. It was almost enough to elicit her empathy, but Savana had brought all of this to Donny’s attention. Heather wished for a device to go back in time and stop any of this from happening, but that was the stuff of sci-fi novels not real life. You got one chance on this ride and there were no reruns or rehearsals, only regrets.

  Donny moved around from the back of his desk and closed in on Savana. “It matters because you sold yourself to this label as a normal woman.”

  Donny’s wording, loaded with malice and years of prejudice, stabbed at Heather’s sensitivities. This was exactly what she had desperately wanted to avoid.

  “What’s normal, Donny?” asked Savana. “You think you’re normal? You’re the gold standard of human being? God help us all if you—”

  “Stop. Don’t say another word,” said Donny.

  He looked beyond Savana at Heather. She didn’t know what she should do. Mostly she wanted to leave the room, hide in her office, and wait for a resolution, preferably with her career intact.

  “Heather.”

  “Yes, Donny,” she said as she stood, no longer wanting to be the only person in the room lounging on a soft sofa.

  “Is this album going to make money and what are the fans going to make of it?”

  Heather nodded. “Absolutely.” At least this was something she could answer honestly. “I think her die-hard fans will love it because, while it’s a change in direction, it still stays true to her roots. And I think she’ll garner a whole set of new fans because the sound is far more current than Savana’s trademark sound.”

  Donny ran his hand over his mouth. “Okay. You.” He pointed toward Louie. “What do you intend to do with your allegation?”

  “I had no intentions until you threatened to destroy my career. I’m just defending myself. You’re worried about the press,” Louie said in a no-nonsense, matter-of-fact way.

  “Heather, if this was leaked to the press, would you corroborate the story?”

  Oh God, no. Saying the right thing and doing the thing for her career were diametrically opposed. This was a no-win situation. Louie looked at her imploringly. Heather’s answer had the power to impact Louie’s career. And it would definitely impact her own, one way or another. Donny was looking at her as though he shouldn’t even have had to ask the question, and the longer he waited, the more his eyebrow seemed to reach for his hairline. Savana’s expression was unreadable. Once again, Heather wished for the spy-like earpiece and Emma to be on the other end of it. But then she wouldn’t be taking responsibility for anything that came out of her mouth. This had to be her decision because she was going to have to live with it. Nothing that came out of her mouth would make everyone in the room happy. She cast her eyes downward, unwilling to see the impact her words were about to hav
e.

  “No,” Heather whispered. “No, I wouldn’t back that story up.”

  “Good.” Donny didn’t miss a beat, almost as if he were expecting that answer. Heather hoped that meant he wasn’t questioning her sexuality. “That would give it less credence. But it’d still be coming from inside the camp. People would still think there might be some truth to it.” He motioned to Louie. “Get out of my office.”

  Louie loosened her tie. “What about your threat?”

  Donny grunted. “I’ll keep my mouth shut if you do, but don’t darken my door again.”

  Louie looked across at Heather as she began to leave the office. “I can promise you won’t have to worry about that.”

  The hurt and betrayal in her eyes was as clear as the bluest ocean. Heather mouthed “Sorry” to Louie as she opened the door, but she closed it just as swiftly and Heather wasn’t sure she’d heard or seen her. Heather couldn’t blame Louie if she never wanted to see or hear from her again. She’d played roulette with Louie’s career for the sake of her own. Would Louie ever forgive her?

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Louie heard the knock at the front door but ignored it in favor of a slug of Blanton bourbon. It burned and she almost spit it out. She’d picked a bottle of it up from the liquor store on her way back from Rocky Top. Drowning her sorrows seemed like such a rote response to yet another betrayal, but she didn’t feel strong enough to eschew the cliché. The server had complimented her choice and regaled her with some tale of how it was originally bottled for VIPs. That almost had her swapping it out for something else. She couldn’t be further from feeling like an important person to anyone.

  “Louie. Heather’s at the door. Are you coming out?” asked Gabe.

  The gentle tone of his voice stopped Louie from snapping some retort back. “No. I’m good in here, buddy. And I’ve got nothing to say she’ll want to hear.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell her.”

  She waited for Gabe’s heavy-footed retreat before pouring herself her first full glass. She didn’t bother with the pretense of serving a couple of fingers’ worth. She wanted to either pass out or empty the bottle. She wasn’t close to either and knew she didn’t really have the stomach for it.

  Her bedroom door swung open and Heather stood in the doorway. Gabe joined her within seconds.

  “I’m sorry, Louie. She kind of pushed past me and I didn’t want to stop her,” he said, looking apologetic.

  Louie smiled at him, knowing there was no way he’d ever lay hands on a woman even after the way his mother had treated him.

  “Why are you here, Heather?” Louie swirled the bourbon in her glass a little too vigorously, and a dash of it spilled onto her jeans. She slammed the glass onto her desk and brushed it away with a muttered curse, sure the amber liquid would stain the pale denim. Her mom would know how to get it out. The thought made her wish she’d called her mom instead of wasting eighty dollars on something that she’d probably end up pouring down the sink.

  “I was hoping you might like to talk.” Heather looked over her shoulder at Gabe. “Alone.”

  Louie half-laughed and shook her head. “What would you like to talk about, Heather? Do you want to talk about how you lied to save your career? Or maybe you’d like to discuss how you threw me under the bus instead of being true to yourself?”

  “I think I’ll leave you to it.” Gabe raised his arms in the air in mock surrender before he disappeared from view.

  “What was my alternative?” Heather leaned against the doorjamb. “Tell the truth to save your career and kill mine? I was in an impossible situation, Louie. You must understand that.”

  “Must I?” Louie didn’t bite back the rage at being treated like street trash…again. Her anger overruled her thoughts of how she’d dreamed of Heather on the threshold of her bedroom in far more conducive circumstances. She reclaimed her glass and swirled it around, still not ready to knock it back. “Why are you really here, Heather? Do you want to ease your conscience? Do you want me to forgive you and tell you that I understand? That I know you had no choice and that you wish things could be different…that you could be different?” Louie stood and put her glass on her bedside table. “I don’t want to hear it. You pass yourself as straight because you can, because it’s easier. You stay in the closet because you’re afraid to come out and be yourself. You don’t know if you’ll like the real you. And if you don’t like the real you, how will anyone else?” The words tumbled from Louie’s mouth unchecked. She barely knew what she was saying, but she could see it was having the desired effect on Heather. She flinched at every statement like she was being struck with a whip braided with barbed wire. Her reaction spurred Louie to keep spewing. “You want me to tell you the real reason you won’t start your indie label? It’s not because you’re waiting for the right time because there’s never a right time to take a chance on building a new business from scratch. It’s because you’re scared you’ll fail.” Here comes the home run. “Just like you failed with your singing career.”

  Heather wiped her eyes and sighed. “Have you finished?” she asked, her voice faltering slightly.

  “Why? Wasn’t that enough?” Louie turned back to her desk. Heather’s tears dampened the fire of her anger, but there was no way Louie could forgive her for what she’d done. Heather had done exactly the same as Mia. Her passion for her career outweighed her passion for Louie. It was further proof that Louie wasn’t worth a damn to anybody.

  “I’m not afraid of failing.”

  Heather’s words were so quiet Louie barely heard her. Still, they made her feel like an evil witch held her heart and was squeezing it so tight she was struggling to breathe. But she tried to ignore it. She couldn’t just keep giving in and expecting the result to be different. That was the definition of insanity.

  “What would you have done in the same situation, Louie? Tell me that.”

  Louie flopped back into her chair and shook her head. “I wouldn’t have put myself in that situation, Heather, because I’m true to who I am whether people like it or not.” She picked up her glass, more carefully this time, and took a small sip. It tasted like warm gasoline. What the hell was the appeal? “I wouldn’t have taken a job where I was expected to wear skirts and cosmetics to fit in with the crowd. I wouldn’t compromise myself for my ambition. But how far will you go to keep your career on the path you’ve got all mapped out? Will you sleep with Savana if she threatens your career instead of mine?”

  Heather pushed away from the door and stood upright. “That’s too far, Louie.”

  “I told Gabe you wouldn’t want to hear anything I had to say. Why don’t you just leave and save us both this…” Louie stopped herself from saying heartache. “Trouble. None of this is worth it.” I’m not worth it.

  “No. I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out. I’m not giving up on us.”

  Louie got out of her chair, grabbed her leather jacket, and maneuvered by Heather. “Then I’ll leave.” She slammed the door as she left. It felt like she was slamming the door on their relationship too. She couldn’t allow herself to go through the same thing again.

  ***

  The eight ball bounced back out of the pocket as if it’d been rejected. Louie felt the ball’s pain. She’d hit it way too hard but didn’t care that she’d effectively thrown the game she had fifty bucks riding on.

  The hefty butch Louie was playing laughed, picked up the money underneath the chalk, and shoved it in her back pocket. “You better not be hustling me, kid.” She took a long slug of her beer then passed it back to the long-haired brunette who was hanging on her every word.

  “I’ve read enough lesbian BDSM stories to know doing that wouldn’t end well for me,” said Louie. Three beers and she’d slipped into entertainment mode effortlessly. Maybe it was because this kind of place was perfect for who she really was. She should’ve known her Nashville dream was exactly that—just a dream. Louie still had her job at Hawthorne Publishing House, and Donny
had said he wouldn’t kill her career. She could probably trust him about as far as she could spit him. She figured it’d only be a matter of time before Hawthorne dumped her. Even though this type of suffering was perfect for a songwriter, Louie wondered if she should simply let it all go and move back home.

  Louie pulled at the chain attached to her wallet and produced another fifty. “Go again?”

  Hefty butch’s eyes sparkled at the chance of more easy money. Brunette bit her lip and squeezed her lover’s sizable bicep, which Louie thought was easily the circumference of her own thigh.

  “Go on, baby. You can beat her again.”

  Louie waved the bill in the air. “What’s it gonna be, Butch?”

  She studied Louie from tip to toe slowly. “Sure, why not? Loser racks ’em,” said Butch.

  Louie didn’t miss the wink Butch threw her, or the sly smile on Brunette’s lips, despite the fact that the whole room was in soft focus.

  “Having fun?”

  Mia. Louie took too long to decide whether or not to turn around, and she felt Mia’s hand on her hip as she circled her, bringing them face-to-face. She leaned back a little and wafted her hand in front of her nose.

  “Celebrating the end of your album with Savana Hayes?” asked Mia.

  Louie shrugged. “Something like that.” Mia would kill her own mother for the gossip Louie had. Mia would happily blackmail Savana for a shot at the big time.

  Diane came into view and put her arm around Mia. “When are you going to introduce us to Savana?”

  Louie grinned. All pretense of politeness had disappeared with the dregs of her fourth bottle. “Err, let’s say never.”

  “Aw,” said Mia. “Don’t be like that.”

  She put her hand around Louie’s neck, tilted her head, and nibbled on her lip just like she used to when they were together and she wanted her own way. Louie shrugged her away.

  “If you don’t mind? I’m playing pool.” Louie moved around them and chalked her cue. Butch and Brunette looked vaguely amused.