All Smoke No Fire

by Randi Alexander

  Before they went out the night before, when they sat eating at the table, Dax had asked questions about her manager, and it brought back every fear, every paranoia she’d harbored over the last three years since Bradley walked away from her. Mardi Gras night, he’d said goodbye and just left her at a bar. Bastard.

  Dax was a different person than Bradley. Both of them were great musicians, great songwriters, and would someday make a big name for themselves in country music. But Dax was a good guy, grounded and honest and humble.

  She stepped out of the shower and toweled off. So, why had she gone all crazy drunk bitch last night? Issues. She definitely had issues and she needed to make changes. She hadn’t seen her family in so long, they’d stopped contacting her, and that just wasn’t right.

  A quick knock sounded on the door. “You okay?” Dax’s voice sounded full of concern.

  “I’m good.” She wrapped the towel around her torso and opened the door, grabbing another one to wrap around her hair. “We’ve got to be downtown in less than an hour, so let’s get moving.” Turning to brush past him, she kept her gaze down, embarrassed about her behavior the night before.

  “Hey.” He took her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Are you okay?” His gaze landed on hers, soft and caring.

  Her heart thumped a couple times. Had she really told him she was attracted to him? What a dopey thing to say. “I’m hungover a bunch, and even more embarrassed.”

  One side of his mouth curved up. “Don’t be. Happens to everyone.”

  She wanted to kiss him, but she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet. “Thanks. I’ll be looking forward to you taking the next turn being the drunken barfer.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll put that on our to-do list.” Turning her toward the hallway, he patted her butt. “Let me shower and I’ll cook something to settle your stomach and make your head stop pounding.”

  “Sounds like a miracle breakfast.”

  Chapter Seven

  Fifty minutes later, Marilou and Dax walked into the reception area of Delroy North’s offices in downtown New Orleans. His receptionist, a very young, very cute blonde, smiled bright as the noonday sun at Dax, ignoring Marilou completely. When he grinned back, Marilou had the urge to reach over the counter and smack her.

  Dax’s breakfast had been delicious, but her head still throbbed. Marilou cleared her throat. “Marilou Roselle to see Delroy North.”

  The girl’s gaze flew to Marilou’s. “Of course, Ms. Roselle. He’s waiting for you. Go right in.”

  Marilou pulled Dax aside. “Wait here for a few minutes. I want to talk about a couple issues before I bring you in to meet him.”

  “Sure.” He winked. “I’m not goin’ nowhere.”

  She loved that he thought to reassure her, especially after the way she’d admitted, drunkenly, that she’d been dumped on Mardi Gras. Was that her only excuse for getting stupid-drunk the night before? No, there was more. Much more.

  “It won’t be long, Dax.” Glancing at the receptionist, she leaned closer to him. “You think you’ll be safe?” She whispered the words.

  He smirked. “I promise, my virtue will be intact, ma’am.”

  She smiled as she wandered past the closed doors of Delroy’s staff to the big office at the end of the hall. “Delroy.”

  The tall, graying man came around his desk with his arms out. “There’s my lady.” They shared a hug and he shut the door. “Sit. Tell me what’s new.” He brought her a bottle of water and relaxed in his office chair.

  They talked about a few things, then she brought up Dax. She’d purposely withheld information about her new “find” from him until this second so he wouldn’t have time to come up with his usual fatherly sermon for her.

  Delroy listened with a blank face, then puffed out a long breath. “Didn’t you learn from the last one?”

  Her lungs froze for a few seconds. She’d known he’d do this, so why was she still so hurt? “Dax is different. He’s a songwriter, and he—”

  “You said all that.” Her manager held up a hand. “But you thought Bradley was different too, didn’t you?” He stood and paced to the side of the desk. “And look at what happened?” Placing his hands on the desk, he looked into her eyes. “You’ve been a recluse for three years, you’ve been working your ass off with no time off, and you haven’t seen your family since I don’t know when.”

  She knew exactly when. Three years ago, she’d brought Bradley with her to Cajun country for three days’ vacation before the two of them headed to New Orleans to play together in a free outdoor concert on Mardi Gras day. He’d met her family, whom he’d charmed like a cobra, then the next day, after the concert, he’d dumped her.

  For months, her family kept asking what had happened, what went wrong, almost accusing Marilou of screwing up the relationship. All she’d wanted to do was crawl back home, into the arms of her family, but she didn’t feel she could go there for solace.

  “You have nothing to say?” Delroy frowned.

  Behind her throbbing eyeballs, her hungover brain kicked into high gear. “Why the hell is my personal business your concern?” She’d spoken the words much too loud, but once they were out, she couldn’t stop. “Your job is to manage my career.” She was shouting now and stood to face him straight on. “Not my personal life.”

  “Damn it, Mari, your personal life affects your career.” He shouted right back at her, rising to his full height, his hands in fists. “Why the hell don’t you see that?”

  “How does not seeing my family affect my singing?” Her voice rose in pitch as she flailed one hand wildly.

  “You have no support, lady.” His words came out loud and clipped. “You think that bringing another one of these puppies home with you to train is a good idea?” He gestured toward where Dax waited in the lobby. “Fuck it. This is number three. First that Owen shit, then Bradley, now Dexter? Or whatever the fuck his name is.” His voice echoed off the ceiling.

  Delroy pointed a finger right in her face. “You’re thinking ‘This one won’t turn on me,’ but they always do.” He shoved a book off his desk and it hit the floor with a bang. “Then you hole up in your little bus and take piddly little gigs across the midwest when you should be performing in arenas.”

  “My choice of music venue has nothing to do with—” She shouted just as loud as he had.

  “Bullshit.” He stormed around the desk, pacing back and forth. “I’ve seen it firsthand. I’ve had to dig you out of your condo and spend hours convincing you to get back on tour again, or get back in the studio, or just get out of the hole you’d buried yourself in.”

  It hadn’t been as bad the first time, with Owen. They’d actually stopped seeing each other before he got a manager. But with Bradley… She closed her eyes. It’d nearly killed her.

  “Dax is his name, and he’s a good person.” Her voice had lost most of its heat, but she spoke loudly, trying to get her point across. “Give him a chance to—”

  Delroy stood right in front of her, crossing his arms. “Okay, prove me wrong. If I offered to represent your newest puppy, sight unseen, a full management contract, would you be willing to give up your relationship with him? Drop him like a boulder?”

  Not see Dax again except professionally? Not hold him, kiss him, laugh with him about silly things, never again watch his face as amazement filled his gaze, or passion darkened his eyes?

  “You haven’t known Dax very long. It should be easy, right?” He spoke loudly, as if she’d drifted off somewhere. “Just tell him you’ve changed your mind about the sex part and I’ll do my best to make him a star.”

  “And if I don’t?” With all her soul, she didn’t want to let him go. Could she do this for him? Give him a chance at a music career at the expense of her heart?

  “If you don’t, then I won’t even see him.” Delroy’s lips tightened into a straight line.

  “You’re a rat bastard, Delroy.” Burning formed behind her aching eyes, moistening them.

/>   “Think of it this way, Mari. You and Bradley were together for five months. You’ve known Dax for less than a week.” He shrugged. “Cutting it off now is going to hurt a hell of a lot less than what’ll happen five months down the road when the puppy gets a recording contract and waves goodbye.”

  Was she so unlovable that no man would stay with her? “Given those choices, I have no recourse but to break it off with him. Somehow. But you’d fucking well better do right by him.” Marilou felt like the sacrificial virgin on a Mayan altar, about to give up her heart for the greater good. But instead of quick and painless, she knew her whole being would ache for Dax, and for longer than she cared to imagine.

  Her manager pulled her in for an unwanted hug. “Lady, you’ve made a very intelligent decision.” He stepped back from her stiff body and bent to look into her eyes. “Just tell him you brought him here to get over your Mardi Gras phobia, and now that you’re cured, he’s free to go.”

  Imagining Dax’s face when she did this to him…would she see relief in his eyes? No, she knew it would be as hard for him as it was for her. She’d just have to keep reminding herself why she was doing this.

  But her broken heart poured tears from her eyes like she hadn’t cried in years. Sobbing, she plopped in Delroy’s guest chair and accepted the box of tissues from him. She’d let it all out, cry herself dry, then try to repair her makeup before they brought Dax in.

  Her makeup could be fixed, her heart…that was irreparable.

  ****

  Ten minutes later, she’d used Delroy’s private bathroom and the makeup she kept in her purse to look almost normal again. She and her manager walked out to the lobby, but Dax wasn’t there.

  “Shanna.” Delroy’s voice snapped and his receptionist stopped typing on her phone, her face flooding with guilt. “What have I told you about that goddamn phone all day?”

  She swallowed, setting it down. “Sorry, Mr. North.”

  He mumbled something about getting good help nowadays.

  “Where’s the man I came in with?” Marilou kept her panic at bay. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom, or out for a coffee, or—

  “Oh, he left. He asked where he could get a taxi.” She set an envelope on the counter in front of Marilou. “He asked me to give you this.”

  The fear took hold of her chest and she could barely breathe. “Was he sitting here the whole time?”

  “Um…” Her eyes shifted around the room. “He got up and walked back toward the offices. I figured he was in the bathroom?”

  Delroy pounded his fist on the counter. “You didn’t think to look? To make sure he wasn’t listening at my door?”

  Marilou’s head spun and her ears rang. If Dax had heard anything they’d said…no, shouted… “Damn it.” She ripped open the envelope and pulled out a piece of Delroy’s letterhead.

  Given those choices, you’d break it off with me?

  Oh God, he’d heard her say that to Delroy. She shook her head, dizzying herself, then grasped hold of the counter for support and read the rest.

  Given my choice, I would have told your manager where to shove his full management contract, and chosen you. I guess that’s where we’re different.

  Her heart pounded, her body felt near collapse. “When did he leave?”

  “About ten minutes ago.” The receptionist scrunched up her nose. “He seemed upset.”

  Marilou looked at her manager. “You know what, Delroy? You’re not worth the time it’d take for me to cuss you out.” She shoved a finger in his chest. “You’re fired.”

  He backed up a step. “Fuck that. I quit.” He spun on his heel and stormed back toward his office. “Goddamn prima donna princess diva bitches…” His rant went on until his door slammed shut.

  Marilou knew they’d sort this out one day, but it wouldn’t be today. Tempers were soaring to an all-time high and she could barely breathe, much less talk to anyone.

  His footsteps came back down the hall. He held out Marilou’s purse, giving her a nod.

  She took it with a return nod and left the building, walking out into a day that had started out sunny and now looked like the clouds of hell were moving in. She glanced at Dax’s note again.

  Given my choice, I would have told your manager where to shove his full management contract, and chosen you.

  She raced home, but when she searched the condo, Dax was gone, along with his guitar and duffle bag. He’d left all his beads and throws on the bed, even the fancier ones he’d planned to bring back for his buddy’s girlfriends.

  He’d probably be at the airport right now, waiting for the next flight out. She could chase after him, but would there be any way to convince him that if she had it to do over again, she’d tell Delroy where to shove his contract, too? No, she’d lost him. Lost her chance at love.

  “Unless…” A crazy, scary plan formed in her mind and she paced the room, fleshing it out.

  ****

  Five nights later, Dax lay on his bed in the apartment he shared with his three friends. Outside the closed door of the bedroom, Shaw, Pete, and Huck sat at the table playing a subdued version of their Sunday poker game. When Dax had arrived home late Wednesday, defeated and sullen, they’d tiptoed around him, quietly offering him support all week.

  The weather had turned frigid, below-zero wind chills and snow blowing hard against the windows, accumulating in giant drifts that required even larger plows to clear. He’d worked his ass off the last three days, taking an extra shift on Saturday just to keep his mind off her.

  At her manager’s office on Wednesday, when he’d heard shouting and Marilou’s voice raised, he’d stormed down the hall, intent on barging in and standing up for her. Hearing his name, he’d stopped with his hand on the door handle.

  What he’d heard had chilled him, causing an ache that stabbed like a son of a bitch deep inside. He wasn’t her first “puppy.” This was her pattern, and he was just the next one in line.

  Dax snorted and scratched the beard he’d let grow since he returned home. He must have just imagined there was more between them, that it wouldn’t be easy for them to be apart, even for one day. But she’d easily given up on him—on them—when her manager put the slightest pressure on her. His relationship with Marilou had been all one-sided, and he was the one.

  Waiting at the airport that day, he’d stared at his phone, wanting her to call, wishing she had a great excuse for the things she’d said. When no call had come in, he’d slowly let go of the hope he’d been foolishly hanging on to. He was just a dumb puppy, looking for attention from someone way the fuck out of his league. “Idiot.”

  “Dax.” Shaw’s voice came with a quick knock on the door.

  “Yeah?” They’d been trying to coax him out all day.

  “Company.” His friend pushed open the door and gave Dax a serious look. “For you.”

  “Who—”

  Shaw turned and walked away.

  “Hell.” He sat, putting his stocking feet on the floor and made himself get up. Probably one of the girls, Harper or CJ, called in to help perk him up. He shuffled into the living room.

  A petite woman in a long, light-blue parka with a fur-trimmed hood pulled off her tall white snow boots. By the height, it had to be Harper.

  Behind her, the guys shrugged into their parkas and stepped into winter boots. Where the hell were they going? Dax sure as hell hoped they didn’t expect him to go with them.

  The woman flipped back her hood. Black hair. She turned to look at him. Hazel eyes, slanted up at the corners.

  Marilou?

  His heart stopped, then restarted with a bang.

  “Dax. Can we talk?”

  As his mouth dropped open, the guys shuffled to the door.

  “We’ve got to go to…” Pete’s lips moved but nothing else came out.

  “Church.” Huck flung the word at them and disappeared out the door. Pete and Shaw followed.

  “Church? Really?” Shaw’s voice reached him as the door swun
g shut. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

  Then he was alone with Marilou.

  Chapter Eight

  Dax stared at Marilou as she pulled off her mittens and stuffed them in the pockets of her parka. The apartment went deadly silent as neither of them spoke. He moved forward, wanting to pull her in for a hug, but not daring to hope she was here for a reconciliation. “Can I take your coat?”

  She nodded and unzipped it, then handed it to him. “Cold here, today.” She rubbed the red tip of her nose.

  He hung the coat in the little closet beside the door. “You want some coffee or hot chocolate?” How the hell could he be so polite when he just wanted to drop to his knees and beg for another chance?

  “No, thank you.” She gestured to the couch. “Can we sit and talk?”

  He nodded and they sat on opposite ends. “Is your bus outside?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “I flew. Got on a plane from Billings, Montana to Denver, then another one up here to Dickinson.” She looked so proud of herself, he wanted to pull her in for a hug and tell her how amazing that was.

  “That’s…really great.” He sounded so stupid, but this conversation was out of his normal zone. No one had ever done anything like this for him. She’d braved her biggest fear to come to him. How did he deserve anyone this wonderful?

  “It is.” She tucked one leg up under the other and turned her body to face him. Her thick pink sweater cupped her pretty breasts and her jeans looked worn and comfortable. He must look like a slob in his black sweatpants and U.N.D. sweatshirt. “And I want to tell you why.”

  “Okay.” He narrowed his eyes, waiting for some sign from her, something to tell him what she was doing here.

  “What you heard in Delroy’s office, that was just stupid. I was hungover and not thinking. He backed me into a corner, figuratively.”

  He nodded, wanting her to go on, and also in agreement of her assessment of what she’d said. It had been stupid.