“Likewise. So my little girl is going to help you with your songs?”
Oh, he felt little. “Yes. I think she is.”
Clara smiled at him. “He’s got some talent, Dad.”
“Well, wait until you really hear her.” Carlos smiled down at Clara and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.
Clara pointed to a chair on the other side of the table. “You can sit there. That’s my brother Christian.” The man lifted his hand in a wave. “And my other brother Ed and his fiancée Darcy.” She looked at them all. “Is everyone here?”
Darcy pursed her lips and looked around. “All but Tyler.”
“I thought he was coming.”
Darcy let out a long breath and Ed took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “He doesn’t seem to feel very much like doing family things.”
There was a hesitation in her voice and Warner picked up on that right away. He’d heard that resonate from every person he’d ever been related to.
Clara turned to him. “Christian can introduce you to everyone.”
There was a whistle from the stage and both Clara and Warner turned their heads. She again held up a finger to the man who had waited for her outside the Starbucks.
“Sorry to abandon you. But they don’t bite.”
She gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and headed toward the man on the stage.
All eyes were on him again and there certainly was the thought that leaving without another word would be the right thing to do. Instead, he sucked up his courage and walked around the table to the empty seat.
Christian and Ed each moved their seats as to give him some room, or to distance themselves. It was Darcy who shifted in front of Ed to speak to him.
“This crowd looks dangerous, but they’re really nice.”
Warner knew his fear was wearing on his face.
Ed let out a snort. “C’mon. We’re supposed to look mean when Clara brings a man to the table.”
“Well I’m not her man. I mean we’re not seeing each other. Purely a working relationship,” Warner clarified.
Christian nodded with a laugh. “Sure. I wonder how long that’ll last.”
“I beg your pardon?” Warner wasn’t sure what a tight family dynamic was supposed to be like, but was this really it?
“You’re just her type.”
Ed gave a nod in agreement. “I suppose we should just put a stocking up with your name come Christmas.”
“What?”
Her brothers laughed and Darcy slapped Ed on the leg. “You seem like a very nice man. And Darcy has a type. It just happens that you fit that type.”
“Oh.” What was that really supposed to mean? “I thought she was with him.” He pointed to the man who had met her outside the Starbucks yesterday morning and now who sat with her on the stage, their heads together tuning up their guitars.
“Randy?” Ed chuckled. “Um, no.”
“No?”
“They’ve played together for years. She’s the background to his stardom. Just the way she likes it.”
That comment made no sense at all, until the music began and her family turned their attention toward Clara.
Randy was the lead guitar. Randy was the voice. This was his show. Clara’s voice and guitar added the harmony which made each song complete. They were right. She wasn’t the star of the show, but she made the star shine.
The waitress came by and took his drink order, how boring was he to order just a Pepsi, but he wanted to keep his wits about him. Though, halfway through their set he nearly spit the drink out when he heard the familiar melody he’d created.
This time it was Clara’s guitar in lead and her voice which resonated through the bar. The tempo had slowed down, the crowd had grown softer, and the eyes of her family had misted to his words. He wrote that song! This was the song she had borrowed and dear Lord, she made it sound good.
How was it that fate worked in such ways? She was just a person in a passing car. And now he could frankly fall in love with her. He wasn’t going to—but he could.
Randy hadn’t added much but an underlying hum where appropriate and a shift in the harmony, which worked. It wasn’t how Warner would have done it, but damn it was genius!
When the song was over the bar erupted into an applause which burst through him. They’d loved it. They really loved it.
“Thank ya’ll for that. I borrowed that song from a very talented song writer yesterday. I think he’ll do well with it.” Her accent had deepened when she spoke to the audience. Then she looked his way. “Everyone give it up for Warner Wright.”
The crowd applauded, but he was all too familiar with the quick whispers which accompanied his name.
Look, it’s the stepson of Patricia Little—the woman who ruined the OX.
The set continued and the spotlight again was back on Randy. But Warner’s eyes were on Clara. She just might be his ticket past the unwanted fame his stepmother brought him. Perhaps, she could help him with the career he’d worked so hard to build.
Clara was more than impressed with how the song turned out. Love Song. Oh, what Carrie Underwood could do to that song, she thought as she slipped her guitar into its case as the next act took the stage.
“You totally upstaged me, you know.” Randy gave her a light shove with his elbow.
“Excuse me.” She shoved back with a laugh. “This was your show. I borrowed one song.”
“And it was amazing.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
Randy growled. “Why thank you, Randy, for your kind compliment. Bless your heart,” he mimicked.
“Thank you,” she grunted back. “Maybe someone heard it—the right someone.”
“That’s the name of this game isn’t it? Sing till the right someone hears it.”
Warner looked as petrified as he had when she’d left him with her family at the beginning of the set. That wasn’t usual. The Keller family usually embraced everyone.
This made her worry.
What did they see in him?
“You were amazing as always!” Darcy raced around the table and gave her a hard hug, which was followed by her mother, father, and the rest of the family.
Warner stood, but backed up against the wall.
He didn’t understand family. She could see it in the fear in his eyes. Well that was going to have to change. You couldn’t be part of her life and not enjoy family.
There it was again. Why the hell did she care?
Christian pulled up another chair for Clara to sit next to him and Randy planted himself at the end of the table next to Spencer.
“So what did you think?” She brushed up against Warner with her shoulder.
“You guys sound great together.”
“Yeah, but what did you think about your song?”
“Oh,” he nodded nervously. “I couldn’t have imagined it sounding better than that.”
“It was good. Wasn’t it?” She grinned until her cheeks hurt.
The waitress brought her Blue Moon in a glass with an orange adorning the side. She squeezed the orange into the beer and then dropped it inside.
She looked at Warner. “What are you drinking?”
“Pepsi.”
“Want a beer? I’ll order you one.”
“No,” he quickly answered. “I’m good. Thanks.”
Clara’s family was there to support her. They talked and drank until their glasses had run dry. Then they all kissed her and left in small groups until she was there with only her brothers, Darcy, and Warner.
“Your family didn’t want to stay for the other sets?”
Darcy shrugged. “They come for me. They always have.”
Warner nodded slowly, picked up his Pepsi and sucked what was left of the cola and melted ice.
“I suppose you need to be going too,” he said. “Thanks for singing the song. It certainly gave me some hope that maybe with your voice it would sell.”
Clara reached her hand out an
d covered his. “I was kinda hoping that you and I could spend some time getting to know each other.”
Warner felt his heart racing, in his throat.
This woman knew exactly who he was and wanted to still spend time with him? Dear Lord, she must be out of her mind.
At some point she would figure out that spending time with him was only going to ruin the career that she was building—which had immense potential.
He cleared his throat, hoping to shove his heart back in his chest. “What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner. I don’t eat before I perform and I’m starving.”
Her easiness was quickly wearing off on him. “I could certainly go for a bite to eat,” he said as she took his hand and stood.
“I know the perfect place.”
Clara’s Jeep was a much nicer ride than Warner’s beat up pickup. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she had installed an XM radio and was listening to the Highway. They had some great things in common.
Great music was one of those things.
He watched the sights of Nashville from his window and then turned his head toward her. “So how come your entire family comes to hear you perform even when you’re not the lead performer.”
“We’re family. We support each other.”
She could be talking Chinese. He didn’t understand family support at all.
She gave him a glance before focusing on the road. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
He let out a breath and shifted his eyes back out the window. “Thanks.”
“I hope you don’t mind. I looked you up on the Internet.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you to not want to know about the guy who stalked you from the street.”
She laughed easily. He envied that about her.
“Patricia Little is a thorn in your side, isn’t she?”
“She does her best to tear me down.”
Clara’s lips pursed and she gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t understand that. I mean even when my parents were divorced they were civil to each other. In fact, I think they were better friends.”
“Your parents aren’t divorced now?”
“No” Her lip curled up in a look of confusion and then settled into a smile. “Oh, I sometimes forget that the whole world does not know about the Keller family.”
“What does that mean?”
Clara guided the Jeep into the parking lot, parked, and killed the engine. She grinned wide.
“Ever eat here?”
“Steve’s B-B-Q Pit and Beer?”
“Another Keller staple.”
He let the tension slide off his shoulders and now he was smiling. “You introduce me to your entire family and now bring me to a Keller hang out? And here I thought you were just going to steal my song.”
The smile on her lips disappeared. “You thought I was going to steal your song?”
“Hey, my track record with beautiful women isn’t very good. Most women in my life either abandoned me, tried to ruin me, or have used me to meet someone in Nashville to kick start their career.”
“First of all, thank you for thinking I’m beautiful.” She smiled. “But I don’t work that way—I don’t use people.”
“I see that.” There was a gnawing sense of guilt rising in his chest. “Before we go inside and you somehow convince me to spill to you, I just want to thank you for taking the time. I’ve spent the past few years with people already having formulated opinions on me because of some…well some…”
“She doesn’t influence my decisions.”
Warner swallowed hard. “That means a lot.”
Clara reached across the Jeep and rested her hand on his thigh. “You’re good people, Warner Wright. I’ve been surrounded by good people my whole life and I know one when I see one.” She patted his leg and then retracted her hand. “C’mon. I’m starving and you’re right,” she said as she opened the door. “I’m going to make you spill your story.”
As Clara climbed out of the truck Warner took in a deep breath. Fate must have stepped in and given him a shove. How else could he explain the fact that he’d met the only person in Nashville without an agenda of their own?
The restaurant was packed with patrons. The fragrant smell of barbeque and stale beer permeated Warner’s senses. The hostess guided them to a table for two in the corner. Clara took her seat before he could even attempt the gentlemanly maneuver of pulling her chair out for her.
Warner sat across from her and looked over the extensive menu.
“I’ll order if it’s okay,” she offered.
He closed the menu and nodded.
Clara ordered their meal and then leaned forward on her arms when the waitress left and looked Warner in the eyes.
“Okay, so I know your dad was once married to Patricia Little. Tell me who you really are.”
There shouldn’t be any reason to be nervous. Clara didn’t make him nervous. He just hated talking about his life. Really, who wanted a thirty-year-old sob story?
“Born and raised in Memphis. In fact, I could see the back yard of Graceland from my bedroom window.” He started to bounce his leg under the table, which he did when he was nervous so he willed himself to stop. “I suppose that was where I got the bug. How can you not live that close to Graceland and feel the spirit of rock and roll, gospel, and the true roots of music as we know it?”
There was an enormous smile on her lips. “That has got to be the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard.”
This girl didn’t get out too much. “I lived there until I was ten.” His heart rate kicked up a notch and his knee was bouncing again. “That was a year after my mom took off and my dad met Patty.”
“Patty?”
“Patricia Little.”
“Oh,” she sighed the word and he knew it was out of pity.
“They were married a few months after my parents were divorced, or so he said they were. I don’t have any proof that they actually did get divorced.” He waved his hand in the air as if to discount what he’d said. “Anyway he married Patty and we moved just outside Nashville.”
“Your mom just up and left you?”
“Yep.” His mouth had gone dry. Where was that waitress with their pitcher of beer? “One day she and dad were fighting, then she told him she hated that she’d gotten pregnant with me and he’d made her stick around. So he told her she didn’t have to and she left.”
Clara reached across the table and took his hand. “Warner, I’m so sorry.”
Her thumb caressed the top of his hand. He liked the comfort of the gesture, but he itched to pull back. But he refrained.
“Not everyone gets a perfect family. I’m okay with that.”
She gave his hand a squeeze and released him. Warner quickly pulled his hand back.
“Anyway, we settled in. Dad was working two jobs and Patty was making friends.” He cleared his throat. “They were married two years by the time he realized she’d run off with all the money and left him with nothing but bills—and heartache.”
Warner cleared his throat. “The only thing he had to offer me was a life insurance policy.”
Clara covered her mouth with her hands. “Warner…”
“He did what he thought was right. He didn’t consider that suicide was the one factor that would void the policy.”
“Warner, that’s horrible.”
The waitress set the pitcher of beer down in front of them and Clara poured them each a glass. Warner picked up his glass quickly and took a long pull.
“My mom was gone. Dad was dead. And Patty took off and eventually got involved with a very married Harley Oxbury.”
“What happened to you?”
People usually wanted to hear about the fall of the OX. Clara was the first person to ever ask what happened to him after his father’s death.
“My maternal grandmother took me in until I was eighteen.”
“So you had a good home?”
“I had a roo
f over my head and food on the table. You might imagine that my mother hadn’t wanted to be a mother, my grandmother wasn’t very fond of her role either.”
He could see the pain Clara was feeling in her eyes. People pitied him. Some felt he deserved it. But he could see that Clara genuinely felt pain for him.
“So what did you do when you were old enough to move on your own?”
Pride swelled in his chest. “Well, I got a job. It was a crappy job, but I was a janitor at a junior college. I had room and board and an opportunity to get an associate’s degree. So I have a degree in business. Then I got into the University of Tennessee and moved to Knoxville. I had a full ride and I got a degree in music.”
Clara’s eyes were bright again and she smiled. “That’s wonderful.”
“I know. Who would have thought?”
“You did. And that’s all that matters.”
Oh, she was a gem. “It was great until I got a teaching job and Patricia Little had lost everything again. She was trying to mend her reputation. She’d married a record exec and she went about using her influence to convince the school board that I was harmful to students.”
“That’s not fair,” Clara sat back in her seat. “Why do people do that to others?”
“Jealousy.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“I think so too.” He took a sip of his beer. “The downfall has been this stupid TV show of hers. She’s been married four times now and she has slammed the good name of each of her ex-stepchildren.”
“She’s a monster. I don’t think I’ll watch that show anymore.”
He laughed. “I don’t hold that against you.”
“She’s my least favorite one on the show, if that helps.”
“A little.” He smiled as the waitress set down one of the biggest meals he’d ever seen in front of them. “Dear Lord, who are you expecting?”
“Crazy isn’t it? We’ll have plenty for lunch tomorrow.”
“I think this is as much as I eat all week.”
Clara shook her head. “Nah, we’re going to get these songs sold and you’re going to start eating like a king.”
Yep, it was fate that put him in the path of Clara Keller. They may never sell a single song, but he felt better than he had in a very long time.
Love Songs Page 3
