by Emma Lea
Nate walked over to the big desk and sat in the chair, plugging his phone into the cord and waiting for the screen to show the video. It was Stevie and she made his mouth dry with that short black dress and those hot-as-fuck cowboy boots. She looked like a wet dream up on that stage. The song started again and her voice filled the studio. The recording quality was crap, but man, her voice. Husky and smokey like whiskey. She sang and Nate felt it in his gut. He watched, enraptured as the song finished and the crowd called for another one. She sang “Total Eclipse of the Heart” and then “Edge of Seventeen” and then two other country songs and then the scene changed and she was dressed in a pretty pink gown and stood with her guitar and her harmonica. She explained to the crowd that she’d written the song for Darla and Tom and he felt ashamed that he’d blown their wedding off for a gig. She strummed her guitar and breathed into her harmonica and then she sang, her voice clear and true and it reached down into his soul and grabbed hold of him. Rocksteady were damned idiots for passing on her… and so was he.
By the time the video finished, they had garnered a crowd. There was a moment of silence as they digested what they had just seen.
“Who was that?” Derek asked again.
“That was Stevie Jacks,” Nate said. “We used to sing together.”
“Damn,” Derek said shaking his head. “You walked away from that?”
“Rocksteady didn’t want her, they only wanted me. She wrote most of the songs on my first album.”
“Fuck me,” Derek said. “Do you know if she’s working?”
Nate shrugged. “She won’t talk to me. It, ah, didn’t end well for us.”
“Right,” Derek said, grinning. “You’re an idiot Nash.”
“I know,” he said, running his hand through his longer, blonde streaked, five hundred dollar haircut.
“Hey before we get started,” Derek said and Nate stopped, turning to him. There was a curious sound to Derek’s voice that he hadn’t heard before. “That chick on the recording?”
“Yeah?” Nate said slowly.
“I might have some backup work for her, do you think she’d be interested?”
Nate blew out a breath and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms across his chest. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe, just—”
“Just what?”
Nate shook his head and chuckled. “Just don’t mention my name,” he said. “She is guaranteed to turn you down if she knows I had anything to do with it.”
“Huh,” he said. “That bad?”
“Oh yeah,” Nate said. “That bad.”
Derek was silent for a minute and then, “Do you have her number?”
Nate shook his head with a smile and dug out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found her name. He sent a text to Derek with Stevie’s contact info and then slid his phone into his back pocket.
He stood and walked over to the studio door. “I need a couple of minutes,” he said before heading out.
There wasn’t a day that didn’t go by that he didn’t think about Stevie. She was with him every time he picked up his guitar. Shit, she had been the one to teach him to really play. He felt like a shit for what he did, but he had to take his chance while he had it. If she hadn’t ignored all his calls and texts and emails, maybe she would be singing with him now. It wasn’t his fault that her tantrum had ended any chance of them singing together again. At least she’d seen reason with the royalties, even if she had only agreed to it if they could deal through lawyers. He’d held out hope that he might actually get a sit down with her so he could tell how sorry he was, but that video was the first time he’d seen her since that night.
He brought up the video again and looked at the hits it was getting. There was something special about Stevie on stage when she sang, something that spoke to you, that bypassed all the outer shit and hit right in the soft spots. He had missed hearing her sing, he missed her.
Stevie tried to balance the large cup of soda and the bag of fries she held while she rooted through her bag looking for her ringing phone. She finally grasped her greasy fingers around it and swiped the screen, lifting it to her ear.
“Hello?” But the line was dead. She’d missed the call. “Shit,” she said as she dumped the now cold fries in the nearest trash can and sucked up the last of the soda before tossing it in the trash can too.
She looked down at the phone to see that the same number had called her four times during the day. She wasn’t allowed to have her phone on while she was at work in the pharmacy, so of course she missed them all. With a sigh she sat on the bench seat outside the mall and hit redial. A deep masculine voice answered.
“Derek Sanders.”
“Um, hi, um I’m Stevie Jacks and I had some missed calls—”
“Stevie,” he said, her name like a song from his mouth in his deep rich tones. “I saw your YouTube video,” he went on, and her face flushed.
“Oh,” she said, clearing her voice, “um, someone else put it up—”
“It was fabulous and I was wondering if you were interested in doing some studio work.”
“Studio work?” She felt like an idiot repeating what he said, but it wasn’t computing.
“Yeah, you know, back up singing.”
“Oh, uh, um I don’t know—”
“The pay’s good, fifty bucks an hour, and you get to meet some pretty cool people.”
“Oh okay, um where?”
“Nashville.”
The world seemed to stop for a moment as she took in that word. Nashville. Nashville. She rolled the name around in her head until it no longer sounded like a real word.
“Are you still there Stevie? Did we get disconnected?”
“No, ah yeah, I’m still here,” she said breathlessly.
“Look, I’ve got one job lined up and they are excited to work with you. It’ll be a few days of work and if it goes well than I know I’ll be able to get more for you. Whaddaya say?”
Stevie took a couple of deep breaths and opened her mouth to say she would think about it and get back to him when what she actually said was, “Yes.”
“Excellent,” he said.
He took note of her email address and told her he would send her the details and then he disconnected. Stevie sat there for, well, she didn’t know how long until Carson came out looking for her.
“Hey, I thought we were meeting at the store,” he said.
She looked up at him, still stunned. “Um, yeah,” she said. “I, ah, I just had a phone call.”
“Are you all right?” he said, sitting down beside her.
“Yeah, I think so,” she said.
“What was the phone call about?”
“A job.”
“A job?” he quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Yeah, a singing job. Back up singing, in a studio, in Nashville.”
“Nashville?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit,” he said.
“Yeah,” she said.
“What did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“So you’re moving to Nashville?”
“What? No—”
“But the job…”
“It’s only a couple of days work to start with.”
“Okay,” he said, drawing out the word.
“Oh my god, do you know what this means?”
“You’re going to Nashville,” he said with a smile.
“I’m going to Nashville!” she squealed and threw herself into his arms.
He hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “You can stay with me,” he said, his voice husky.
She drew back and looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”
He smiled affectionately at her and shook his head. “Not at all. I like the idea of you waking up next to me in my bed.”
She felt her cheeks heat in a blush as she smiled up at him.
“Nashville,” she whispered.
“That’s the big times babe,” he said,
nuzzling her neck. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “We need to celebrate.”
Chapter Five
Present Day
Jace, Vanessa and Nadine were waiting for her when she opened the door of the house they shared. She sent a text asking if they could meet, but now that they were sitting there waiting for her, she was having second thoughts. Would they be offended by the offer from Nate? Would they feel like she was selling them out? Their career as a band was only just starting to take off. The tour was going to be epic and probably thrust them into fame territory. Did they really need Nate Nash?
“Hey Stevie,” Jace said, looking up from the guitar he had on his lap that he was idling strumming.
Both girls turned to her, smiles on their faces. “Hey,” they said simultaneously.
Stevie flopped down on the only spare chair and took a breath. Nadine and Vanessa shared a look.
“Everything okay?” Vanessa asked.
The only way to say it was to just blurt it out.
“Derek has been asked by another artist if we will cut a song with him.”
Jace stopped strumming and raised his eyebrows, the two girls just looked at her with wide eyes.
“Someone famous?” Nadine asked.
“Infamous, more likely,” Stevie mumbled and then sighed. “Nate Nash.”
“What the fuck?” Jace said, sitting up straight and putting his guitar down. “Nate Nash wants to do a song with us?”
“With us or with you?” Vanessa asked.
“He’s writing a new album and the label has given him complete creative control. He wrote a song that he wants to sing with me, but he wants you guys as well.”
Silence greeted her statement and she looked at each of them, hoping to see something encouraging on their faces, desperate not to see betrayal.
“What did you say?” This was from Jace, his voice carefully controlled.
“I told Derek that I would speak with you guys first and that if we were going to do it than it would need to be a unanimous decision.”
The three siblings shared a glance before looking back at her.
“You would give up a chance to sing with Nate Nash if we said we didn’t want to do it?” Nadine asked.
“In a heartbeat,” she replied, “Look, I know what it’s like. Nate walked away from our band. He didn’t think of anyone but himself. He didn’t think about what was good for Jacks & Nash and he only thought about what was good for him. There is no way I’m going to pull the same stunt. I like Court’n Jacks, I fucking love what we’re doing and what we’re building, and I’m not prepared to sabotage that.”
“What does Derek think we should do?” Jace asked and she let out a breath of relief. They weren’t saying no. They weren’t kicking her out of the band.
“The song is freaking amazing,” she said, relaxing back in the chair. “Classic Nate Nash. He has even offered to give us the major billing on it if we want. Derek thinks it would be good for us. It’ll be good exposure, and we’ll be taking advantage of the buzz that will be created by the tour.”
“How do you feel about singing with him again?” Vanessa asked.
Stevie blew out a breath. “I haven’t seen the guy in five years. I’ve been so fucking angry at him that I’ve avoided any and all contact, but…”
“It’s time to let go?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “It’s time to let go of the past and move on. I’m in a good place professionally and personally. I can walk into a room with him and see him as an equal.”
“Well, an equal with a platinum selling record and a Grammy nomination,” Nadine said with a giggle. “God, Nate Nash. Are we really gonna do this?”
“As much as I hate to admit it, I think it would be good for us,” Stevie said. “But I want to know what you guys think.”
“It’s not more of that fucking pop crap that was on his last album, is it?” Jace asked with a scowl.
Stevie shook her head. “I wouldn’t even consider it if it was.”
“I’m in,” Vanessa said.
“Me too,” Nadine said.
Stevie looked at Jace and watched a range of emotions play over his face.
“Look,” she said, “why don’t we meet with him, talk to him and listen to what he has. If you hate it, we can walk away.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said, drawing the word out. “We’ll meet with him, but not alone. I want Derek and Marci there.”
Marci was their manager and had done a bang up job with all the contractual agreements they’d had drawn up for the upcoming tour with Lily Ames.
“I agree,” Stevie said. “I’ll call Derek and set it up.”
She got up from the sofa and walked down the short hallway to the office. She turned to close the door and saw that Jace had followed her. She took a step into the office and he followed her, closing the door behind him.
“Are you really okay with this?” he asked. “With seeing him again, singing with him?”
She shook her head. “My first reaction was a flat out no. But the song…” she exhaled a loud breath. “Jace, the song is solid gold. I can’t get the damned thing out of my head and I already know how it will sound with the four of us backing him up. I know he’s done some shitty things, and I really don’t want to give him a leg up when his career is in free-fall, but I think this album has the chance to shoot him back to the top of the charts, with or without us. We may as well take of advantage of it if we can.”
He looked at her with a stern expression, his lips thin and his brow furrowed. He was a tall guy with a runner’s physique, long and lean. He studied her with his dark brown eyes, hands on hips and jean-clad legs spread. He was going to get a lot of female attention once they hit the tour and she hoped it wouldn’t change him.
“Okay,” he said with a resigned sigh. “Call Derek. We’ll talk to the great Nate Nash and see just how beneficial this arrangement is going to be.”
They met at Derek’s studio on Music Row. Stevie had been there so many times in the last four years that it had begun to feel like a second home. They arrived early and had a quick chat with Marci and Derek about what to expect from Nate. Stevie was nervous, her stomach full of butterflies, so she didn’t really participate much in the discussion. She was barely able to even follow it. And then the door opened.
Nate Nash. He looked good. Better than good. She had seen him on television and on the covers of magazines, but this was the first time they had been in the same room in five years. She’d hoped that those magazine covers had been airbrushed, that the fact that he looked better than he had five years ago was a trick of lighting or makeup or digital enhancement, but nope. He looked too damned good. He seemed to suck all the air out of the room or fill up all the available space or something. She felt cornered, to the point of claustrophobia and he hadn’t even stepped fully into the conference room yet. How the hell would she be able to sing with him?
He smiled, his eyes seeking her out and she felt it like a punch in the gut. You would think that with the anger and bitterness that she had carried around with her for the last eighteen hundred and twenty-eight days, she wouldn’t still feel that pull towards him that she had always felt whenever they were together. There was no reason for her to still be in love with him, but when his eyes met hers she got lost in their denim blue depths.
Before she knew what was happening she was across the room and in his arms and he was squeezing her tight. He still smelled the same, but his body was harder, his musculature more defined. She should be angry at him, she should be slapping his face, but the truth was that she had missed him. She’d missed her best friend.
“Stevie,” he whispered into her hair. “God, I’ve missed you.”
She pulled away from him and swiped the tears from under her lashes, coughing out a half laugh, half sob.
“I’ve missed you too,” she said, feeling seventeen again and remembering the first time she’d met him and how tongue-tied she’d been then.<
br />
Someone cleared their throat behind her and she turned to see the rest of her band waiting for an introduction. She took a deep breath and exhaled to calm herself before stepping away from Nate and turning to the others.
“Nate,” she said, “this is Jason Court, Vanessa Court and Nadine Court.”
He shook hands with them and they all murmured greetings. Nadine’s eyes were big and she didn’t seem to be able to look away from him. Stevie nudged her and she jolted, smiling shyly.
“And this is our manager, Marci. You already know Derek.” Nate nodded to Marci and shook Derek’s hand.
“Let’s sit,” Derek said.
Nate sat across from them and she traced the lines of his face with her eyes, cataloguing the small changes that had appeared over the time since she’d seen him last. His haircut was different, a touch shorter than he used to wear. His scruff looked to be carefully cultivated and there were fine lines around his eyes and mouth that deepened when he smiled. Subtle differences that only made him look better, and she could only hope that the same could be said for her.
They discussed Nate’s vision for the album. Jace talked tech, the girls asked questions about their roles, Marci talked logistics and Stevie sat there just taking it all in. Nate hadn’t brought any representation with him, but passed the details of his agent and lawyer over to Marci when she asked about them. He seemed calm, in control and even a little eager to work with them. She knew Jace was holding back, not wanting to like him, but Nate would win him over. Jace was all about the music and he could identify another musician in Nate. If things were different, Nate would slip right into their group without a blip. He fit with them, despite being an internationally recognized rock star.
“Shall we listen to the track?” Derek asked.
They all nodded in agreement and stood from the table. It was all very surreal and dreamlike for Stevie; she felt like she was underwater and all the sound was muted. Nate hung back to wait for her as they all filed out of the conference room and headed towards the control room.
“Hey,” he said, catching her hand as she passed him.
