Songbird
Victoria Escobar
Songbird
Victoria Escobar
Copyright © 2015 by Victoria Escobar
Smashwords Edition
Edited by AGC Editing and Services
Cover Art by Donna Dull
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
Of Gaea
Of Sparta
Just About Healing
Peerless
Unnatural Selection
Leaving Tracks
Unattainable
Coming Soon
Unpretty
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Acknowledgements
About the Author
“The most important thing is this: to sacrifice what you are now for what you can become tomorrow.”
― Shannon L. Alder
If he snaps his fingers at me one more time I swear I’m going to snap his neck. With a polite smile forced on my lips I crossed back across the room to the dark skinned man sitting with an entourage of very pretty, and vapid women.
“Can I help you, Mr. Rox?” I gave myself a pat on the back for maintaining a courteous tone.
“Fatty, my drink is empty.” Crispin Rox’s grin bordered maniacal. The asshole gave new meaning to the word malicious.
I took the half full glass—it most certainly wasn’t empty—and showed some teeth with my smile. “Would you like another Long Island, sir, or something else?”
“Gin and tonic, thunder thighs.” He smirked and my hands tightened around the glass. Oh, the temptation to toss the remaining contents in his face was great. The woman wrapped against his right side giggled.
“Right away, Mr. Rox.” I turned and managed to keep civility on my face. My waist length braid swung with my quick motion and I grabbed it pulling the plait out of arms reach of the asshole. I would tolerate a great many things, but pulling my hair wasn’t on that list.
When Maggie Mae passed off waitressing as a promotion I thought she lost her damned mind. As an outdoor vendors’ assistant I was above waitressing. Besides, the entertainment house that I worked for had clear specifications for who was allowed to be hired as a waitress. I did not meet any of them.
Maggie Mae had mentioned the girls wouldn’t waitress on the Friday and Saturday night due to conflicts. If Mr. Snappy Fingers was any indication of the previous conflicts I didn’t blame them. She assured me, quite insistently, I would not receive any such harassments. If only she’d been right.
Any girl that paid her own way through college knew how to waitress. However, for the first time I felt rightfully overqualified. Even so, I scanned the eight tables I had people seated at as I passed through to the bar. There were still two acts for tonight missing, and only an hour left before the show began.
He was a nobody. A bully. He was a child denied his favorite toy. I would not play into his tantrum.
His direct slap on my double digit waist wasn’t nearly as painful as Maggie Mae’s had been that afternoon. Mr. Rox at least didn’t beat around the bush about calling me fat. Then again, code of conduct policies wouldn’t allow Maggie Mae to say it.
“Bianca, darling.”
I stopped and sent a genuine smile to the blonde woman who reminded me slightly of Dolly Parton. “Yes, Ms. Barbara Jean?”
She held up a ten dollar bill. “Can you get me another Sea Breeze? You keep the change.”
She had been the only one to tip so far tonight. As her drink was six dollars and this would be the third that would make a whole twelve dollars in tips for the night. Maggie Mae wasn’t joking when she said tips would be nonexistent.
“Of course, Ms. Barbara Jean.” I took the money and tucked it into my apron, hurrying over to the bar.
Sweet faced Derek nodded before I opened my mouth. “I heard. You can’t help but hear that one. At least tonight he’s not grabbing your ass and demanding oral satisfaction in exchange for tips.”
“No, I’m just the butt of every joke. Literally.”
“He’s probably jealous of your hair, and the fact that those boots give you the legs of a goddess and he’ll never have tone like that. Thunder thighs, my ass. You just keep being you, sugar. He’ll get what’s his.”
Derek’s eyes moved past me and glowed with excitement. “Mr. Walker just walked in.” He licked his lips and winked. “You should get him seated and see if he wants something while I make these. Remember, the night’s almost over.”
A sigh caught in my chest and I swallowed it down. As Derek said, the night was almost over. I wanted this evening to be over now. I didn’t want to serve anymore holier-than-thou art artists of any kind.
I had no one but myself to blame. If I didn’t have that insane desire to nurture and take care of things this would have never happened. Even with my crippling car payment I could have turned down Maggie Mae but the allure of a grand in tips on Friday night and fifteen hundred on Saturday night was too good to pass up.
However one fact remained, I wanted to help; I wanted to take care of others; I had some ridiculously insane desire to be useful. I needed to start curbing that shit.
The sigh swallowed down only moments ago was exhaled in a shaky breath. I hadn’t expected Mr. Walker to be as breathtaking in person as he was in pictures. I needed a minute before I could walk over without being stupid.
He was always on the covers of those gossip rags for one reason or another. There was no way to live in Nashville and not hear of Nicholas Walker. His reputation in Nashville per the media outlets was as the “Black Angel” of country music, though I didn’t actually know why. In his black on black attire, I decided angel for his looks and black for his clothing choice. Worked for me.
His mahogany hair was carelessly tousled and his eyes even from across the room were intent as they scanned faces. Wasn’t there a saying about the camera told lies or something? I resisted—barely—the urge to smooth down the shirt I had tucked into high waist pants. Instead I pushed the cat eyed frames up my nose and squared my shoulders.
I could do this.
He was a little younger than me but other than that I knew very little. I didn’t have time to waste on gossip that spread like wild fire in this city. Everyone in Nashville heard one story or another, but there was a big difference between facts and rumors.
“Good evening, Mr. Walker. May I show you a seat?” I deserved a pat on the back for sounding completely cool and unimpressed.
His jewel green eyes looked down at me, a feat considering my own height with the added benefit of heeled boots. I lifted my chin as his eyes took their time tracing my features. His mouth quirked when he followed the slightly off line of my nose.
Tossing my obsidian bangs out of my eyes I waited for the inevitable. Maggie Mae said once people were unnerved with the blue speckles in the brown of my right eye.
I didn’t disagree with her. The normal reaction was scorn or disgust. I waited to see what his would be.
His smile was just enough to allude to a dimple. His fingers played with a ring I couldn’t quite see in the dim light. “Sure.”
<
br /> “Please follow me.”
The seating had been prearranged by Billy according to artists’ preference that was why I had to walk by Mr. Asshat before getting to Nicholas’s edge of the room table.
“Yo, tubby tubby, where’s my drink?” Crispin sneered as I walked by.
“On the way, sir.” I replied without looking at him or over my shoulder to see the reaction of my follower. Almost everyone in the room had ignored Crispin’s abuse. I doubted Nicholas would do anything different.
Nicholas nodded at the table I stopped in front of and stepped past me to take his seat. His cologne was enough to make women rabid at five paces. The magazines and news reports never mentioned the pantie wetting sin of smell he stained the air with. God, I had to tense my leg muscles to keep them from going to Jell-O. Suddenly, I was overjoyed men didn’t find me worth paying attention to.
“Can I get you anything to drink, Mr. Walker?”
“Just water for now.” He leaned back in his seat and smiled fully there was a dimple. Just one on the left and it was gorgeously lickable. His fingers played with the large ring he wore again. Interesting habit.
“Would you like a meal? The kitchen is open for your convenience.”
“I’m sure it is.” What an arrogant ass. “Call me Nick. I don’t think we’re far enough apart in age to be Mister. You have beautiful eyes.”
“I’ll get your water, Mr. Walker.” I used his name deliberately before turning away. The compliment was odd, my eyes were never praised for beauty. Even though strange, the words were easy enough to ignore. Eloquence meant very little to me. I knew all too well the deception behind pretty words.
Derek sent me a sly grin when I approached the bar once more. “What can I get Mr. Tall Dark and Hot as Hell?”
I rolled my eyes. “He wants water. You got the other drinks?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Derek set the orders on my tray.
Since Crispin had deemed being an asshole was part of his makeup for the evening I served Barbara Jean first.
“Thank you, sugar.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” I felt eyes on me and looked around to see if someone was signaling for another drink or desert. Instead I found Nicholas staring at me steadily. The gaze wasn’t intrusive, or it didn’t feel like it was trying to be, he was just…watching.
“I’m in a drought, blimpy.” Crispin snapped his damn fingers again.
I seriously considered dropping it in his lap instead of setting it on the table. “Here you are, Mr. Rox. Is there anything else I can get for you this evening?”
“Just pick up the pace, Bertha.”
I didn’t respond and went back to the bar for Nicholas’s glass of water.
“I didn’t think that man could get any ruder,” Derek hissed but his eyes were full of curious humor. “Mr. Walker hasn’t taken his eyes from you since he sat down.”
“Waiting for his water probably.” I shrugged and rolled my shoulders because, yes, I could feel his eyes. “I have to admit, if Crispin tried to grab my ass, he’d have broken fingers. So maybe it’s better this way.”
I should have walked along the far side of the room with the glass of water instead of walking by Crispin’s table. Sure, the walk would have been a little longer, and it wouldn’t have given me the opportunity to check all my guests but certainly inviting additional verbal attack wasn’t a good idea.
As I passed the table, my shoulders tensed in anticipation for the onslaught. A foot shot out, my boot caught on the leg and I pitched forward. I was moving too fast to catch myself and the glass of water crashed to the floor as I threw my hands out to catch my falling body. My glasses slipped off my nose and went skidding. I was too close to an empty table and the corner of a chair caught me in the temple as I went down. Right into cold water and broken glass.
My head throbbed, my knee burned where it scraped and my hand felt broken from the jar of the impact. I laid there a minute hoping the weird vertigo—since I was laying down it was weird—would pass. The shadow that fell over me forced the knee jerk reaction to curl up and protect my organs. I’d been kicked before and bruised kidneys weren’t pleasant.
“That was fucking uncalled for,” the voice vibrated with barely restrained fury.
“It’s only a server.” Crispin was still laughing. “Don’t waste your time on it.”
It. I was only an “it” to him. Somehow, that explained the way he treated me. I was nothing. Well, a man’s worth was decided by how he treated those that could do nothing for him. I wasn’t the worthless one here.
“You are so fucking lucky I can’t afford to be arrested again this month or I’d be wipe the floor with your ugly face,” Nicholas growled.
I uncurled to glance at him in surprise, but without my glasses I couldn’t seem much of anything. A quick glance around for my glasses didn’t reveal them close by. I could barely see without them but when I slowly pushed up Nicholas’s black on black wasn’t hard to discern which meant the man standing up to him had to be Crispin. There was glass in my hand and I whimpered a little at the pressure pushing off the floor created.
“You can’t,” Barbara Jean’s sharp twang escaped the blurred figure moving to Nicholas’s side, “but I certainly can.” She tossed the remainder of her drink in his face.
Crispin’s hand moved fast and I was stunned into motionlessness to think the man would hit a woman. Since I could barely see anything, I couldn’t tell what Nicholas’s reaction to the motion was but Barbara Jean caught the hand and twisted it against the rules of bone structure. Crispin howled and was forced to his knees when Barbara Jean didn’t let go.
“Your mama should have taught you better.” Barbara Jean’s free hand boxed his ear or that’s what it looked like to fuzzy eyes.
Shit. This was escalating quickly. I forced my legs under me and swayed to my feet. “Enough.” I moved between the triad before anything else could happen. “That’s enough. It was an accident. Accidents happen.”
“Like fucking hell it was.” Nicholas crossed his arms and cocked a hip.
“What’s going on here?” My boss, Maggie Mae pushed into the triangle. Thank God. “Dear, Lord, Bianca you’re bleeding.”
“An accident,” I began.
“That fucker,” Nicholas’s hand lifted towards Crispin, “tripped her intentionally. I saw the whole fucking thing. I don’t perform while he’s in the building. He doesn’t fucking deserve to be here.”
Nicholas turned to me and studied me carefully. “You need to be looked at.” The barely controlled anger was gone as if a switch had flipped and only concern leaked through his voice now.
“It’s just a scratch,” I didn’t need to feel the blood trickling down the side of my head to know I bled.
“Mr. Walker,” Maggie Mae interrupted, “I understand that the situation is unfortunate, however…”
He turned towards Maggie Mae and I felt the air vibrate. The anger was back. “No. It’s not unfortunate.” He was childish enough to put air quotes around the word. “It’s uncalled for. Unacceptable and rude beyond the definition. He’s an asshole and has treated her like his shit doesn’t stink. Well I have news.”
“Enough,” I repeated and used my uncut hand to touch Nicholas’s arm. His muscles were tight and rigid, and looking down his hands were balled into white knuckled fists. Someone had to step in before Nicholas forgot he couldn’t get arrested again. “Let me get you another water. Did you decide you wanted something to eat?”
When his face shifted to mine his brow lifted. “You’re really going to serve me while you’re bleeding? Do you think I’m a monster too? Where’s the first aid kit?”
“At the bar.” Maggie Mae worried her lip.
Nicholas tucked my good hand into his elbow and guided me over to the bar. Derek already had the first aid kit and a new glass of water sitting on the polished wood.
I could hear the raised voices and turned to see people—probably Maggie Mae, Crispin, and by the twang,
Barbara Jean—in an intense argument. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to be pushed gently onto a stool. I should have never accepted the job. God, this night was terrible.
I let Nicholas clean my hand and wrap it. I kept my eyes closed as he washed the knot on my head. Surprisingly, his hands were gentle and the pain wasn’t a bad as it could have been. I tucked the memory away to be savored later. I was rarely the one being taken care of.
“You all right?” he asked quietly.
I gestured with my good hand to the tables. “My glasses are out there somewhere.”
“They’re right here.” Barbara Jean approached and she sounded right pissed too. “I scooped them up before they could get trampled.”
“Thank you, Ms. Barbara Jean.” With the glasses on my nose I could see concern on Barbara Jean’s face and while his face wasn’t angry Nicholas’s eyes were.
“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you tonight,” I began and the fury bubbling in his eyes exploded onto his face.
“You have nothing to fucking apologize for. I mean it. I’m not playing as long as that asshat is in the building.” He stalked away.
“You sure you’re okay, sweetie?” Barbara Jean studied my face and took my bandaged hand in hers. “You look a little pale yet.”
“I’ll probably be pale for days after this.” I gave her a smile that faltered when Maggie Mae came over.
“The lineup is starting and Nicholas is third in line. What am I going to do? Billy is going to be pissed, and Vincent is already demanding that I fix this. I don’t know how to fix this. I didn’t know the man would explode at the drop of a hat.” She ran a hand through her hair and tugged when the fingers reached the ends.
The stage director would get his panties in a twist about Nicholas not performing. He would have to get over it. Or… I sighed and rubbed at my not bruised temple.
“Are you okay, honey?” Maggie Mae’s hands dropped on to my shoulders and she studied my eyes. “I think you should go sit in the office. We’ll wait and see how you feel and if you feel the need we’ll file the worker’s compensation papers. That bump looks a little nasty.”
Songbird Page 1
