I did covers, but they were all angry anthems that gave me a chance to stalk the audience and make no bones about who I was to the men who gawked there.
Unfortunately, none of this did anything to deter them. It seemed the more I denied their attention, the harder they fought to force it upon me. They still yelled their obnoxious come-ons to me over the music, making obscene gestures with their hands and their mouths. When one idiot tried to grab me, I kicked for all I was worth.
Jonah ended up taking the brunt of it, catching my foot with ease, putting himself between me and the audience. I instantly felt bad, but there was little I could do now that “Blaze” had taken the stage.
I could see Gay watching me from the sidelines, her face stoic, her eyes narrowed and penetrating.
She was waiting to pounce the instant I finished my set. “What the hell was that?” she demanded.
“That was Blaze,” I told her. “You want me to play a character, that’s fine. But I get to decide what that character is.”
I felt empowered as I stalked back to the dressing room to change. But as the minutes ticked by, I couldn’t help but wonder if Gay was ready to give me the boot for openly defying her. She’d be well within her rights to do so. And maybe that’s exactly what I wanted. Maybe I just wanted someone, anyone, to slam the door shut on my dream so I could walk away from it at last. If they wanted me to change, if they needed me to change, how much more could I give before it was enough?
I was a lot more subdued when I opened the door to the dressing room again. I found Jonah there, patiently waiting. “Hey,” I said softly.
“Hey,” he greeted in return as he studied my freshly scrubbed face. It occurred to me that he was probably the only person who didn’t judge me according to what I was wearing. He looked at me the same way whether I was in some stupid corset or miniskirt as when I was in my regular clothes.
It was a refreshing change.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “How about your hand?”
He held up his hand, palm facing up, as he smiled. “Barely a broken bone.”
I was immediately chagrined. “Sorry I kicked you.”
“My fault for getting in the way,” he offered with a shrug. “Heading to your car?”
I took a deep breath and then shook my head. “I should probably go collect my last check.”
“Gaynell’s not going to fire you,” he said quietly. I glanced into his eyes. They were dead certain.
“What makes you so sure?”
He indicated for me to follow him over to the partition separating the stage from the backstage area. There was a small crack in the design, which allowed us to watch the audience unobserved. “That crowd is twice as big as last week, with no national act to headline,” he pointed out, and I could easily see he was right. “You give Gay six months and you’ll be the headlining act. I’m sure of it.”
It echoed what she had told me. I glanced up at him where he stood. “You think?”
He nodded. “You just have to meet her halfway is all.”
Halfway, I thought. I had heard that before too. He followed me back to the dressing room, where I retrieved my bag.
“No easy escape this week,” he warned. “There’s already a crowd of admirers at the door.”
I chuckled softly. “Ironic, isn’t it? I started singing to share what I thought was my gift with the world, but the more I give, the more they want to take.”
He perched in a chair next to the makeup table. “You should share your gift, Lacy. It’s incredible.” I studied him, to see if he was telling the truth. Finally he said, “Confession? I’ve waited all week to hear you sing.”
I scoffed. “You did not.”
He insisted that he did, and even crossed his heart with his finger. “Every song that came on the radio I wanted to hear sung by you.”
I made a face as I sat in the makeup chair. “I hate doing covers. I really want to do my own stuff but she says I have to get a following first.”
We could hear the roaring crowd from the stage. “Six months,” he repeated. “Or you could stop singing, pick up a security T-shirt and work with the rest of us grunts,” he grinned.
His smile was as nice as his eyes. I stared into those eyes for a long moment before I impulsively grabbed my spiral folder and handed it to him. “Pick one.”
It was a crazy thing to ask a complete stranger, especially someone who simply worked as a bouncer. And I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was because he had been so nice to me. Maybe it was because it felt good to feel like I finally had a friend in enemy territory.
Or maybe it was just a gut instinct.
I could tell the minute his hands touched the sheet music that he was no stranger to it. He glanced through every page thoughtfully, reading more than just the title. He scanned the notes as though he could read them.
Finally he settled on a relatively new Pink ballad. “That’s not what I would have guessed that you would pick,” I commented as I glanced over the sheet music. I hadn’t even learned the song yet.
His laugh was soft, like a caress. “Why not?”
“Good ol’ country boy like you?” I mused as I spared him a grin of my own. “Right down to your shit-kickers.”
“Teach you to judge someone by the way they dress, Miss Abernathy,” he drawled in that low voice that commanded I look right into those eyes.
For the first time in a long time I saw someone looking back at me who could really see me as I was… not as he wanted me to be.
It was both frightening and exciting.
It also made the song he picked even more poignant. I took it home to study it. It demanded a more powerful vocal, which instantly roused my sleepy boy from his bed as I practiced quietly in my room. Cody climbed into my bed and curled up next to me. “Sing, Mama,” he said, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.
I couldn’t refuse him. I sang it until he fell asleep in my lap. I laid him beside me and curled my body around him. He was my angel and he was worth everything.
I made myself a promise that I would do what that song was urging me to do: take a chance and just try.
I was tested immediately when I found my new outfit hanging in the dressing room. It was a deep blue silk jumpsuit with a neckline that plunged right in between my breasts, putting the girls proudly on display. I sighed as I reminded myself of Cody and my promise. I stepped into the ridiculous outfit, adding a few touches of my own, and headed out to rehearse the new song with the band.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, my heart skipped a beat when I saw Jonah that afternoon. He glanced over my outfit, which I suspected he knew I’d never have worn willingly. Somehow it was important to me that he knew this was a costume. I did model the shiny cowboy boots I wore, which I had added as a nod to him as I took his advice to meet Gay halfway. He chuckled as if he understood that.
It only made me like him more.
He headed to the stage and I knelt to speak to him. “Blaze,” he greeted in that cozy, warm drawl.
“Mr. Riley,” I grinned. “Gay was so pleased I didn’t resist her wardrobe suggestion, she gave me a fourth song. Guess which one I chose?”
“I heard,” he said. “You sound great.”
“Yeah, well don’t tell Pink. She’d kick my ass.”
“I think you could take her,” he chuckled, which made me laugh.
Yep. I definitely had one friend. It made me feel more confident as I performed my set. He stood between me and the other guys who bought my new look hook, line and sinker. But I knew I was safe, both during and after the show.
And it was the “after” part that I looked forward to the most. I brightened the minute I saw him backstage. “Enjoy the show?”
He sat in the chair next to me. “You killed it, darlin. I can’t wait to see the crowds next week. It’ll be standing room only.”
I laughed. “Let’s hope. The sooner I can fill the room, the sooner I can pick my o
wn damned clothes.”
“You looked great,” he said softly as his eyes trailed over my body. My breath caught as I recognized the appreciation in lingering gaze. It flooded my body with familiar warmth.
“Thanks,” she said as I glanced away.
“Walk you to your car?” he asked.
“In a minute.” I pulled the book of sheet music from my backpack and handed it to him. “Two for two?”
He barely made it a few songs before he landed on the one he wanted and handed the book back to me. I glanced down at the challenging Aerosmith tune. “There’s no way I can hit that note. Steven Tyler walks alone.”
He merely laughed. “I think you can make it work. You just have to find a new way to approach it.”
I glanced back up at him. “Like how?”
He looked around, spotting the open door and the other Southern Nights employees passing by. I could tell he was immediately uncomfortable, though I didn’t know why. “Maybe we could meet somewhere away from the club?”
My brow furrowed. Was this Phase Four: Relocate Your Target to Another Area? It smacked of stranger danger, though, for some inexplicable reason, I wasn’t necessarily afraid. “Why?”
“Stage fright?” he offered with a helpless shrug.
Was this another line? Had he successfully bamboozled me with flattery and some chivalrous knight routine, only to get me alone to grope me like some Neanderthal? Or was he as genuine as he appeared? There was really only one way to know for sure. “Business only?”
He crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”
I couldn’t help but smile. He really did seem like an overgrown boy scout. That was harmless enough, I supposed. I reached into my purse and withdrew my phone. “All right, Ace. Give me your number.”
We exchanged numbers and discussed when we could schedule a call. “Tomorrow’s no good,” he said, without offering any explanation.
“Me either,” I said, offering no explanation of my own either.
“I work during the week. So it’d have to be nights, if that’s okay.”
I shrugged. As long as it was after eight, I could fit it in anywhere. “How’s Tuesday?”
“Perfect,” he grinned.
He walked me to my car in friendly silence. I slid inside and he leaned down to bid me goodbye. He hesitated for a moment and his eyes drifted to mine. I recognized the look instantly. Despite his being a nice guy, he was still a guy who wanted to kiss me.
What spooked me more was that I didn’t think I would have stopped him. It made no logical sense. I had done so well for so long, resenting every guy I ran across, treating them like they were the enemy, since I learned a long-ass time ago that they were. What made me think this guy was any different? I mean, he was still just a guy… with mesmerizing amber eyes… a strong chin… broad shoulders… and tight jeans…
I felt myself flush as I turned away. I got the hell out of that parking lot before I did something monumentally stupid.
In fact, I second-guessed everything all the way to Tuesday afternoon. I contemplated canceling the whole thing simply because it was tying me into a knot. I would have loved to talk to Mama about it and get her advice. But I knew the only advice she had was that I should keep my distance.
But I didn’t want to do that. I needed a friend at Southern Nights. Jonah was the only one who looked at me and didn’t see a gold-digging baby mama or wannabe poser. Yes, it was clear he was attracted to me, but he had kept a respectful distance, minding the established boundaries. That was more than I could say for most of the assholes I’d met in my life.
And even if he did make a move, why was that so wrong? He wasn’t a musician. He was just a member of the crew, same as me. I could tell by his truck that he wasn’t affluent, so no one could accuse me of going after his money. Plus he wasn’t a Hollis, which meant I wasn’t crossing Gaynell or Jacinda by pursuing a relationship with him, whether friendly or otherwise.
But just because Jonah didn’t belong to them didn’t mean they wouldn’t have strong opinions about a relationship, friendship or otherwise. They expected me to be the Southern Nights slut, the desperate trailer trash ready to find a new baby daddy. I knew they were waiting to pounce on anything I did that would prove them right, whether it was true or not.
No hot cowboy was worth that.
By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was so discombobulated that I was tempted to change my number entirely, just to slam the door shut on all these thoughts and feelings that had no place in my life anymore. I had been fooled once. I had been burned badly. Maybe I could have taken chances before I had Cody, but now too much was at stake.
I couldn’t allow myself to get distracted.
Jonah called me at seven o’clock that evening. Mama had just finished putting dinner on the table, so I answered with every intention of blowing off our conversation.
“Hey,” he said in that deep, rich voice and slow, lazy drawl. “Up for some rehearsal?”
“Yeah, about that. I can’t really get away this week. Something came up.”
Mama glared at me over the table. I glanced away as I listened.
“No problem,” he said softly. “Can you talk?”
She hesitated only a moment. I glanced again at Mama before I hopped up and headed for the bedroom. “Maybe for a bit.”
He was on task as I shut the bedroom door behind me. “I was thinking about what you were saying, about not being able to hit that note.”
I laughed. That was putting it mildly. I sang that song no fewer than fifty times and had not been able to reach that note without my voice cracking all to hell. “Not by a long shot. I think I have to drop the song entirely.”
“Not necessarily. Lemme hear what you’ve got so far.”
Even though I regularly sang in the privacy of my bedroom, it felt insanely intimate as I launched into the song, knowing that he could hear every layered nuance. Honestly, I felt naked as I sat cross-legged on my bed, building the song to that impossible note, which I blew. “See?”
“You sounded great,” he offered quietly. “That note is a bitch. Let’s try it again. This time ration your breath a little so you don’t run out of steam at the end. Let it build.”
I could tell that he put me on speaker. Then I heard his guitar. “Is that you?”
“Yeah. I tinker a bit,” he said. He played and I sang, but I still mangled the end.
“I’m not going to get this, Jonah.”
“Come on now,” he said. I could practically see his smile. “Where’s the badass vocal ninja who nearly kicked my hand plumb off?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You can do anything.”
I took a deep breath. If only he knew. “Not ‘anything.’”
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
I looked around my tiny bedroom, packed tight with too much furniture for the small space. There were cheerful drawings all around Cody’s bed, things he’d drawn each night for me while I was off toiling away at a dream I wasn’t sure would ever come true.
Maybe this was as good as it was going to get. Somehow that depressed me more. “Define okay.”
“Are you okay?”
I struck me that no one had asked me that in a really long time. Maybe ever. “Not yet,” I said, thinking about the next year of my life, tied to Southern Nights and Gay Hollis. “But I will be.”
“That’s my girl,” he said softly, which touched my heart in an unexpected way. It wasn’t spoken in the possessive way Tony Paul had always used it. Instead it offered me safe harbor, letting me know that I belonged in his world.
We rehearsed until almost eleven o’clock at night, when Mama finally knocked on my door. Cody had fallen asleep on the sofa, so I transferred him to his bed. Mama followed me to the door. “Who was that, Lacy?”
“A friend,” I dismissed.
“A musician?” she asked.
I thought about his playing the guitar. I had recognized his musical eye when he had first gone through the sheet mu
sic. But I hadn’t been able to tell how talented he was until he played for me. And yet it was as if he didn’t want anyone at Southern Nights to know. “No,” I finally answered. “He’s not a musician.”
“But it is a man,” Mama probed.
“It’s a friend,” I insisted. I was tired and overwrought. I didn’t want to fight with her. I just wanted to go to bed. “Can we fight about this in the morning?”
“There’s no fight,” Mama said. “You’re going to do what you want to do, as always.” I rubbed my hand over my eyes, and she mercifully changed the subject. “I’ve got a couple of double shifts this weekend. We’re training a new girl.”
“What about Cody?” I asked. She had stopped working weekends once I got the job at Southern Nights, just so she could babysit and we wouldn’t have to pay a sitter.
“Danielle has offered to sit with him,” she said, referring to our teenaged neighbor. She was young but she was one of the best sitters we had ever had, coming to our rescue more often than not when our shifts collided. She was quiet, attentive and responsible, and she loved Cody.
“Fine,” I said as I climbed into bed.
“You won’t be able to stay out overnight,” Mama advised which made me scowl her direction.
“Just because I am talking to a male friend doesn’t mean I’m ready to whore myself out all over town, Mama.”
“I’m just saying you have responsibilities here. The time for dating and romance is over, Lacy. You’re a mother now.”
I wanted to remind her that people could do both, but it was evident by her lonely, bitter existence that she couldn’t accept that. So I dutifully said, “Yes, Mama,” which appeased her enough to bring the conversation to a close.
Jonah and I continued to work hard the next few days as I rehearsed that song relentlessly. We had an extra day to practice since there was a special act coming through that Thursday, so, like clockwork, I was on the phone with Jonah by eight o’clock. We rehearsed well past ten. I got no closer to acing that note at the end, despite how hard I tried. “Why can’t I do this?” I mumbled finally.
“You can do this. You’re right there. Just don’t give up.”
“I’d have given up two days ago if it weren’t for you,” I confessed softly, because it was true.
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