You're Still the One

by Rachel Harris

  As David cut through the dancing couples, Charlie drained the rest of his beer. He knew where he stood. Stone held his future in his hands. Not only with Blue, but with his foundation. Charlie had sent his office the full proposal for Life & Lyrics over a week ago, including Abby’s personal story, without her name attached, and the statistics on the alarming rise in teenage depression. Six days later, Stone’s assistant had called and strongly suggested he attend tonight.

  Charlie was prepared to kiss the man’s ass, take his lumps for his past mistakes, and even go so far as to wear a stupid tie, but he’d be damned if he cowered in his presence. Placing the empty bottle on the bar top, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, meeting the CEO’s scrutiny head on.

  “Tucker.” His tone was curt and patronizing. “Glad to see you could make it. I know how busy your social calendar can be.”

  Charlie smiled tightly. “Wouldn’t miss it. Tonight’s a big night for Belle Meade, and Eden’s a friend of mine. She opened for our Rain Dance tour.”

  Stone merely nodded, continuing to watch Charlie over the rim of his glass.

  This was why Charlie loathed these events. Playing nice for the bigwigs, rehashing the same old crap everyone already knew. He’d much rather be riding the back roads of his hometown, or grabbing a beer in Magnolia Springs. Playing a show, stuck on the bus.

  Pretty much anywhere but here.

  Stone lifted his drink to his mouth and the scent of coconut rum hit Charlie’s nose. Countless meetings were laced with the same scent. Rum and Coke was his boss’s go-to drink, and he’d held it, along with Charlie’s future, in hand at numerous industry events—in nightclubs like this one, and even in his own home. Back in the early days, that’s how Stone had won Blue’s allegiance, inviting the band over for dinners and pool parties. Treating them like family and introducing them to his daughter.

  They’d been a bunch of suckers.

  “Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush,” Stone said finally, pursing his mouth as he lowered his drink. “I know a good investment when I see it, and I was impressed with the information you sent me regarding your foundation. It could use some tightening up, of course,” he added somewhat condescendingly, but it rolled right off Charlie’s back. He was hung up on the words good investment. “But I think it has potential. I’m strongly considering your invitation to sit on the board, as well as a sizeable contribution, and have shared the information with a few colleagues. They should be contacting you within the week.”

  Charlie didn’t know what to say, a first for him. His heart sped, and he was seconds away from hugging the man. This foundation meant everything. It was a chance to right a wrong, to make Abby proud, and to help others who felt as lost as she did. There wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to make it a reality.

  “Thank you, sir.” He exhaled, humbled, and tried to align his racing thoughts. “I believe Life & Lyrics can help a lot of people, and as a musician in the public eye, I’m in a unique position to make a real difference.”

  “I agree,” Stone replied, shocking him further. “Which is why I’ve already sent your proposal to my team. If they see the same potential that I do, we should be in business before the start of the tour.”

  The words almost made him weak. Before he could string together a proper response, a way to express his appreciation, his boss cleared his throat. “Speaking of business, I have something I wanted to run by you.” Charlie set his jaw, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I hear you’re headed back to Magnolia Springs. I have a possible opportunity for you.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What kind of opportunity?”

  “There’s an independent recording studio down there that I have ownership in—”

  “Strange Wheel,” Charlie interrupted, even more intrigued. Blue recorded several songs for their third album at the studio, and they’d been impressed with their professionalism and methods. He often drove out to visit with the guys in his free time, hanging out and laying down tracks for clients in need of a good bass line. “What about it?”

  “I want you to buy me out.”

  Now that got Charlie’s attention.

  Strange Wheel was an up-and-coming studio, and he knew for a fact they weren’t hurting financially. Business was booming, thanks in large part to a recent article in a top trade journal, and he’d planned to bring Abby there when she visited so they could record her songs. Beyond that, he’d been searching for a creative outlet to sink his teeth into while getting his foundation under way. This opportunity could be ideal.

  Which meant there had to be a catch. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the studio, if that’s what you mean.” Stone said, a bite of irritation in his tone. “I’ve recently decided to simplify my portfolio and, as I rarely make it down to New Orleans these days, it’s an obvious choice.” Ice cubes clinked in his glass as he took a short sip. “When your proposal hit my desk and I remembered you lived there, it seemed to be a sign.” He leveled Charlie with a glance. “You help me out, I help you out.”

  Charlie caught the man’s meaning, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find a downside. The answer to all his troubles had fallen into his lap. Buying Stone out of his share of Strange Wheel would ensure his foundation’s success, it’d help earn back the CEO’s trust, and it would give him another outlet. A way to fill the void now that women were off the table. The choice was obvious.

  “Strange Wheel is an incredible setup,” he said, holding out a hand. His boss clasped it with his own. “As long as my lawyers don’t find anything objectionable, I’d be honored to be a part of it.”

  What passed for relief overtook Stone’s features, and a faint warning rang in the back of Charlie’s mind. “So, would this be a silent partner situation, or are they looking for a more hands-on role? Blue leaves on tour at the end of August…”

  “That’s fine, that’s fine.” The odd look from earlier crept back. “They know about your fall schedule. Actually, you’d only be required to be an active participant this summer. They’d like for you to lead up a few marketing efforts and oversee the two interns.”

  Charlie shrugged. Sounded good to him. “Should be easy enough. How tough could managing a couple of newbies be?” Turning, he caught the bartender’s eye and signaled for another beer. Had he known a monkey suit could lead to all this, he’d have worn one more often.

  Drink in hand, he spun back to find his boss frowning into his rum and Coke. “It will be easy. In fact, I can personally vouch for one intern in particular.”

  That warning bell in his head? It suddenly got a whole lot louder.

  “My daughter, Arabella, has been chosen for the summer term.” Stone’s stern face transformed with a slight smile, and he raised his head. “Actually, Tucker, that’ll be your main task until you leave on tour. Keeping an eye on her. Helping her find her way at the studio, and making sure she stays safe and out of trouble.” He narrowed his eyes. “And out of the tabloids.”

  There was the catch.

  Charlie wasn’t stupid. He’d known there was something the man wasn’t telling him and, reading between the lines, he finally understood. If he wanted Stone to invest in the foundation, to sit on the board and use his name to get other big shots to do the same, Charlie would have to spend the summer babysitting his daughter.

  That wasn’t exactly the role he’d had in mind when they shook hands. He wanted to experiment with music and help artists find their sound. He certainly didn’t want to fill the next three months with chaperoning duty. But then, could beggars really be choosers?

  Charlie wanted back in his boss’s good graces, and he needed the man’s help with his foundation. It was the only way he could make it right after not being there for Abby when it truly counted. Surely that was worth a few hours playing “manny” over the summer. As for keeping the girl out of trouble and out of the tabloids…

  A vision of a debutante with a mouthful of bra
ces flashed in his mind. The last time Charlie had seen Arabella Stone, she’d been a quiet kid who blushed too much and darted out of the room whenever he smiled at her. It’d been a few years, but people talked, and from what he’d heard, she was still about the same. A nice but awkward chip off the old emotionless block.

  What kind of trouble could a girl like that possibly get into?

  “Consider it done.” Charlie knew, without the man saying so, how important this was. Stone had always held Arabella on a pedestal, especially after her mother died, and if his boss had a heart beneath the steel, she was it. Beyond the soft-core coercion, trusting Charlie with her safety was a big deal. “Anything else I should know?”

  Stone raised his eyes. “Just one detail. She can’t know how you got the job, or that I was ever involved with Strange Wheel. It’d break her heart to learn I had anything to do with her getting that internship.”

  The request, while understandable, made Charlie uneasy. Deceit wasn’t his thing; growing up in his overstuffed family, lying only led to trouble. You inevitably left something out, or told a sibling one lie too many, and it all came crashing around you. But, in this case, he guessed a lie of omission couldn’t do much harm. It was to protect the girl, raise her self-esteem. If memory served correctly, she could use a dash of that.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” he replied, and the two men shook again.

  Satisfied, Stone left to schmooze with more big shots, and Charlie raised his bottle in a silent toast to new adventures. This night had certainly turned out better than he’d anticipated.

  Chapter Four

  Home sweet home. Two weeks after her exciting night at Country Roads, Arabella dropped her bags in her motel room and released an excited noise from her mouth. It was more than a laugh, more than a giddy squeal. It was the sound of freedom.

  Everything about this town was perfect. The air held a certain energy, the people were incredibly friendly, and during the ride over she’d spotted a jazz quartet playing on the corner two blocks away. New Orleans had music in its blood, every bit as much as Nashville, only here no one knew who she was.

  Ella joined her bags on the mattress, falling back freestyle and laughing aloud as she bounced. The floral print on the bedspread was hideous, the walls a strange mustard color, and the carpet in the hallway had definitely seen better days. But it was hers, hers until she found an apartment, anyway, and she’d chosen it on her own.

  Her father expected her to be staying in some fancy place off Canal Street or in the Garden District, but that wasn’t her. That was the prim façade, the image. This place was real. It was low-key. She could throw herself across the mattress and watch TV stark naked if she wanted to—not that she ever would, or that she couldn’t in the pricier hotels, but they’d always felt stifling. Here she could breathe.

  Her cell phone buzzed on the dresser and Arabella bounded off the bed to retrieve it. “Let me guess, you miss me already?” she said in lieu of hello, not bothering to check who was calling.

  “Yes.” Lana tacked on a long-suffering sigh for dramatic effect, and Ella rolled her eyes at the theatrics. “I came home today and there were no fresh baked cookies waiting for me. No lavender lemonade or fresh squeezed orange juice, either. Ella, I had to drink Snapple from a bottle and rip open a carton of Oreos. Do you see what you’re doing to me?”

  Arabella laughed. “My sincere apologies for leaving you snackless, prosecutor. Good to know you only love me for my cooking.”

  “Future prosecutor,” she corrected, “and not only for your cooking. I also love your magical ways with the laundry.”

  That was her, domestic goddess extraordinaire. She couldn’t help it. Taking care of people made her happy, and even though her father hired people to do such things around the house, Arabella had always pitched in alongside them, eager to help. It made her feel closer to her mother.

  “I left you detailed instructions taped to the washing machine,” Ella said, walking over to the large window overlooking the oak-lined Carrollton Avenue. “And you know that if you get in a pinch, Honey would love for you to visit. Just be prepared for a dose of unsolicited advice along with your pressed unmentionables.”

  Linda “Honey” Mabry was Arabella’s surrogate grandmother and the closest thing she’d had to a mother since she was six years old. Honey had bought Ella her first training bra, had been the one to dry her tears when Matt Hightower broke her heart in the tenth grade, and she, along with her spitfire granddaughter, continued to push and prod Ella to step out from the shadows and into the spotlight. She’d also made it abundantly clear as of late that she was ready for great-grandchildren, and she didn’t much mind letting anyone within listening distance know it. Unfortunately for her, Lana had no plans of ever marrying, much less procreating.

  “Don’t I know it,” she mumbled. “Listen, you just better not think about going and falling for some hot Cajun guy, because I’ll drive my happy butt down there and snatch you back. Test me on this.”

  Arabella’s smile fell from her face, and her laugh came out forced. “I wouldn’t dare,” she said, wishing away the pressure behind her eyes. “Besides, you know falling in love didn’t make the cut.”

  Lana hesitated on the other end, and for a moment, Ella feared she’d ask again. Ever since that night she’d approached Charlie, her best friend had been pestering her for details, but so far, Arabella had kept mum. Lana knew that they’d kissed, and she claimed to have seen the haze of sexual tension in the air, but Ella had refused to say anything other than that he’d been a complete gentleman…and even hotter up close than she’d remembered.

  She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to keep the details to herself; she didn’t usually keep secrets from her best friend. But everything about that night felt precious. Fleeting. Almost as if by discussing the tiny moments that made up her short time with Charlie, stains would suddenly appear, tarnishing it, making it less special, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. That night was all she’d ever have.

  But, Lana didn’t ask again. What she said was, “Ah, yes, the infamous summer list. You do realize you’re the only person I know who makes a to-do list to enjoy herself, right?”

  Outside, bells clanged as a distant streetcar slid to a stop along the cables, letting on a fresh batch of passengers. The process was familiar, orderly, not unlike her lists. Arabella was tempted to recite research about how recorded goals and strategic plans had higher success rates than merely winging it. She considered sharing studies that proved it reduced stress, bred creativity, and kept you efficient. But Lana had heard all that before.

  Plus, before she could, her friend added:

  “Your lists may be my favorite thing about you, cookies notwithstanding, and even I can admit this one’s pretty epic.” Lana’s smile could be heard over the phone, and Ella exhaled a breath. This list was epic, and so unlike any she’d ever put together. Of course, this was the first time she’d ever truly left home and felt free to experiment. “Just know that I’m expecting a call every time you cross off another one of those suckers, and I will want details.”

  “If I don’t tell you, then it didn’t happen,” Arabella answered, turning away from the window with the hope of adventure rising in her chest.

  Nine items remained on her list, each one more daring than the last. Some demanded physical bravery, others required mental and emotional courage. Strangely enough, those would prove the hardest. Reaching out and taking what she wanted, asking the hard questions as to what that would even be, wouldn’t come easy. For so long, she’d told herself she wanted whatever her father wanted. It was the two of them against the world. The thought of possibly disappointing him with her decisions was almost crippling, but if she didn’t step out now, when would she? Four years living with Lana, the queen of no regrets, had proven Ella was bottled up…this summer was her chance to finally uncork.

  A few minutes later, Arabella let Lana go with promises of mailed cookies as soon as she f
ound herself an apartment or a kitchen, whichever came first, and then she tabbed over to her messages where a text remained unanswered. It’d been waiting for her when she stopped for lunch in Tuscaloosa.

  Heading into a meeting now, but let me know when you get settled at the hotel. Don’t go into the city alone after dark. Love you, princess.

  Ella sighed, her fingers hovering over the keypad. Her father really was a big softie at heart, and she loved him more than anything. But that text was part of the problem. He still saw her as a child, a princess, incapable of knowing the potential dangers of walking a strange city alone at night. It’s not that he meant to undermine her intelligence with his unsolicited advice or intend to shake her confidence with his expectations for her future. But that’s exactly what he did.

  Arabella typed out a quick reply, then shut off her phone, needing some distance from home. That was another reason this summer was so vital. In New Orleans, she could be anyone she wanted to be. Daring and confident, or an everyday college grad. Unless someone lived and breathed the industry, they wouldn’t know her from Eve, which meant they wouldn’t look twice if she said something foolish or did something crazy. Here, the world was her oyster. Back in Nashville, she was Music City’s darling, Lana’s homemaker bestie, and the daughter of one incredible, loving, stubborn man who would forever see her as his little girl.

  Emphasis on the little.

  …

  “Sausage biscuit,” Charlie declared, tossing a wrapped sandwich on Mike Hebert’s desk with a grin. “Who loves ya, baby?”

  Strange Wheel’s renowned sound engineer shook his head with an amused smirk, a look Charlie was getting used to seeing on the older man’s face. “You do, I suppose.” The man chuckled low to himself, but he unwrapped that biscuit with gusto, and when he took a massive bite, his eyes lit up behind his wire frames.