“I’m singing at The Blue Fiddle tonight,” she said.
“Will,” Audrey said. “We have to go hear this songbird tonight, don’t we?”
Will leaned forward on his elbows. “We’ll be there.”
“Great,” Gillian said. She stood, frozen it seemed, for a few long seconds, then her eyes widened. “Oh! I’d better get your food.”
Will tried not to watch as she hurried off toward the kitchen, but he couldn’t help noticing the bounce in her step as she disappeared through the curtain.
“She’s a doll,” Audrey said. Will looked up, hoping his face didn’t show the allure he felt toward Gillian Heart.
“She’s cute,” he said. “I just hope she’s good on stage tonight.”
“She’s more than cute,” Audrey said. “Too bad you don’t date clients.”
He managed to maintain a straight face. Audrey, like everyone in country music, knew about his past. He hadn’t done everything that was rumored, but he had dated a client before. Everyone was pretty accepting of the relationship at first, touting them as the new sweethearts of country music, but showbiz took its toll on their relationship. They’d both done stupid things to the other, and the day she’d left Nashville was the day Will had promised himself to never, ever date another client.
“Ah, honey,” Audrey said. “You’re done for.”
Ignoring her, he slurped his coffee, but it wasn’t hot enough to burn away his desire to see Gillian again, no matter what his rules, since as soon as she arrived with his meal, he promptly spilled half the coffee in his lap.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, pulling a towel from her waist. “I’m such a klutz today.”
“No, it was me,” Will said.
She reached like she was going to dab his lap, which made him stiffen and his face flush. She paused, apparently having second thoughts, and handed him the towel. Across from him, Audrey giggled.
“I’ll grab some more coffee,” Gillian said. He was pretty sure she was fighting a grin as she spun on her heels and strode away.
“Holy crap,” he said, dabbing his lap, then slapping the towel onto the table. Audrey was staring at him with that ridiculous smile.
“What?” he demanded, hating that his face still felt warm, which meant he was blushing like a fifteen-year-old boy. “Is something funny?”
She shrugged, her smile only growing broader.
“Like I said, honey. You’re done for.”
Chapter Five
Gillian liked how The Blue Fiddle had that historic look typical of honky-tonks on Lower Broadway. She and Tasha had both landed a job there working nights, and between there and The Sweetest Tea, they managed to pay rent. But the best part about working at The Blue Fiddle was the chance to sing in front of a real audience. Tonight was Gillian’s night.
Wishing she hadn’t eaten that piece of meatloaf for lunch, she lay her apron on the bar and headed toward the stage. Just as she reached for her guitar, Will walked in. Her heart leapt when he smiled and gave her a little salute. Audrey followed close behind, and the two found a table toward the back. Gillian had the distinct feeling she needed to impress Audrey as much as Will. For a moment, she fiddled with the strap on her guitar and strummed a few chords. She was stalling, having tuned her guitar earlier.
Someone clapped. “Let’s hear it, sugar!” Gillian thought it was Tasha.
Her stomach fluttered. It didn’t get much better for someone like her to stand on the wood planks of that low stage, the window lit with neon signs behind her, the dance floor framed by the long, shiny oak bar, and the rustic brick walls lined with autographed photos and a mismatched collection of fiddles.
She smiled at the crowd, hoping for a panicked split second that nothing was hanging from her nose. At least her outfit looked better than both of the ones Will had seen earlier that day. Tonight, she was all country, dressed in her favorite jeans with the rhinestone pockets, the same boots she’d been wearing back when she first stepped off the bus, and a simple thin-strapped pink blouse that flowed just past her waist. Her hair was down and her makeup no longer dramatic, although she wore darker lipstick because of the dim lighting.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the beautiful and talented Miss Gillian Heart!”
The lights dimmed, and a lone spotlight curved on the floor in front of her. She was unable to make out the faces just outside the light, but she knew they were there as she crooned her favorite Patsy Cline song, Crazy. She knew it was another cliché, like everything else she’d done since she’d arrived in the city, but everyone in Nashville loves Patsy. Besides, it was appropriate for this moment. She felt like she’d go crazy if Will decided to sign her.
Taking a calming breath like her momma taught her, she waited for the room to fade away in her mind until it was just her, the stage and the echoes of Patsy, Loretta and all the other country women who’d paved the way for her. Yes, for me, she thought. That’s what she told herself every night, to keep from giving up. And she sang.
She sang her heart out, not sure if she sounded any good at all, but praying she did. Finally, she strummed the last chord, eyes closed, and for several seconds there wasn’t a sound in the room, not even from the bar.
Had she been flat?
Then a slow, loud clap came from the back of the room, and the rest of the crowd joined in. Hoots and hollers begged for more, so she sang them two additional songs. It was all she was allowed to do before the real act came out.
After her last song, there was more applause, accompanied by groans of disappointment when the audience saw her setting her guitar in its stand. She gave people a few minutes to come up to the stage and talk with her, surreptitiously scanning the crowd for Will. Several people passed by the stage, pulling bills from their pockets and stuffing them in the tip jar, or offering a word of praise, but no Will Adams.
“Wow,” she said to Tasha when they counted out the bills.
“You deserve it, girl.”
“I’m going to buy us dinner,” Gillian said. “After we pay rent.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Tasha said.
“I do, because I’m sick of macaroni and cheese.”
Some days, she was never gladder to be in Nashville, but there were times when she felt like hanging up her hat and going back to Gold Creek Gap, where her momma would make her a real meal and she’d have a comfortable mattress. Even her dinky twin bed in Momma’s little trailer house was more comfortable than the creaky box springs in her apartment.
The bartender called to Gillian. “Hey, Patsy, I need you to take tables six through ten tonight, OK?”
“Why?” She caught a sad look from Tasha.
“Because Jenny’s gone.”
“Gone where?” Gillian asked in a lowered voice when she passed Tasha carrying a full tray of drinks.
“Poor thing went home. She ran out of money and probably out of willpower too.” Tasha didn’t say she gave up, because everyone there understood the hardship of trying to make it in Nashville.
“But I liked Jenny.”
“Yeah, me too, but who can blame her?” Tasha asked. “Don’t you ever think about leaving?”
“Sometimes.” Gillian couldn’t lie. She’d just been thinking about home, but she wasn’t ready to go home permanently. “Do you?”
“Yeah, every damn day.”
“But you’re still here.”
Tasha shrugged. “And so are you.”
Gillian had promised her mom, and herself, that she’d give it plenty of time, and she wasn’t ready to go back to teaching small town guitar lessons to little kids and singing in the church choir. Not that she didn’t enjoy those things, but her dreams were bigger than Gold Creek Gap. And that’s why she hoped tonight might be her big break. She scanned the room, looking for Will Adams. Her gaze rested on the back table.
A small earthquake rumbled in Gillian’s chest. “Do you see him?”
“Who doesn’t?” Tasha asked, moving off to deliver
her drinks.
Will and Audrey sat at one of her assigned tables, so taking a deep breath, she headed their way. He was sitting with his lanky legs sheathed in expensive-looking jeans and boots stretched out in front of him. His gaze scanned the room and landed on her as she approached. He smiled, sending Gillian’s heart into a frenzy.
The man radiated masculinity by doing nothing at all. Be professional, she reminded herself, but dang, he was attractive with that slightly scruffy look of his. His pepper-streaked blond hair was just long enough to be disheveled, but short enough to be professional in a country-music sort of way, and no skinny jeans, thank heavens. His black starched shirt with its pearl snap buttons down the front was loose, as if he’d untucked it after a long day, and his black western boots had lost some of the shine Gillian fancied must have been there that morning. She knew Will’s type. He was a workaholic to be sure, but that was probably why he was one of the best.
“Hey,” she said, forcing herself to turn and look at Audrey. “Hi, Audrey. Thanks, both of you, for coming.”
“Darlin’,” Will said, “can you please do that again?”
Gillian’s pulse rushed a lot faster than it should have when he rested his elbows on the table to peer at her, the intense blue of his eyes drawing her in, her heart fluttering and completely oblivious to the warning signals in her brain.
“What he means,” Audrey said, “is that you have a great voice.”
A flush of pride spread across her cheeks, igniting a flame of hope for her music career, along with a heat wave of a different kind that swept through her body. The last part, she chose to ignore.
Be professional, she reminded herself again, but what she really wanted to do was flirt.
“Nice of you to say,” Gillian said, attempting to sound normal. “What will the two of you have to drink?”
“He’ll have a beer, and I’ll have a deluxe margarita on the rocks—on his tab.” Audrey winked at Gillian.
“I’ll be right back.” She turned, but stopped when she felt Will’s hand on her arm.
“Please call Josie first thing in the morning. I can’t wait for lunch. We need to talk soon.”
Letting go of her, he pulled out his card and asked for a pen. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to hand him one.
“If Josie doesn’t answer, call this number. It’s my personal cell.”
Gillian flushed when she noted Audrey’s raised eyebrows.
“Congratulations, honey,” Audrey said. “Not everyone gets Will’s private cell.”
“Thank you,” Gillian said, doing her best not to clutch the card to her chest and do a happy dance. “Thank you so much.”
“You have a beautiful voice,” Audrey said. “I’m almost jealous.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She rushed back to the bar where Tasha was waiting.
“Well?”
“I’m supposed to go into his office tomorrow.”
Tasha grabbed her hands. The two squealed.
~~~~
When Gillian delivered the drinks, a new person was with them.
“Gillian, meet Mitch Brewster. He’s another music agent.” She had heard of him.
“Gorgeous voice,” he said. “And you, you are beautiful.” Gillian gave him a bemused look. Mitch was already half lit.
“What can I get you?” she asked.
He rattled off his order and then handed Gillian his business card. Will Adams gave his buddy a friendly punch in the shoulder.
“Mitch, you can’t sign this girl.”
“Why? She’s amazing.”
“I found her first,” Will said. Gillian glanced at Audrey, who was simply shaking her head.
“Ignore them both,” Audrey said. “Sign with who you want to. Just remember, they’re going to be working for you.” She cast a meaningful look from Mitch to Will.
“Sign with me,” Mitch said. He grabbed her free hand, wrapping his sweaty fingers around hers. “Where’d you get those pipes anyway, sugar?”
Gillian had always heard that gentlemen were everywhere in country music, but when she actually got to Nashville and started waiting tables, it didn’t take long to learn that jerks were everywhere, even in country music.
She pulled her hand free. “Just give me a beer, sweetheart. We can talk when you get back.” He rested his hand low on Gillian’s hip. She was about to whip him with her towel when Will Adams’ hand shot out and grabbed his friend by the wrist.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Mitch.” He smiled apologetically at Gillian. “Sorry about that. Bring him a coffee, please. He’s already drunk. It’s been a long day for both of us.”
That man was the reason she didn’t date men in Nashville any more. So many of them were either cads, or they were off-limits, like Will Adams. She’d learned the hard way from seeing her dad leave her mom—and her—not to get attached to music people. But good gravy, Will Adams was the kind of man who might change her mind.
As she approached the bar, she rattled off the Mitch guy’s order and waited for the bartender to fill a cup with coffee.
“I’m sorry about my friend.”
She whirled around to see Will, standing close to the bar. The attraction crackled like the static electricity in her grade school science experiment. It left her feeling restless. She felt like yanking her apron off and pulling Will Adams out onto the dance floor.
“You can really sing.”
Gillian suddenly understood why women swooned in old romantic movies. His smile made her feel light-headed.
“Thank you.” She picked up the coffee.
“I’ll take that to Mitch,” Will said.
“Thanks,” she said, grateful.
“Until tomorrow,” he said, grinning. She added his eyes to the growing list of things she would have to resist about him if he became her agent.
“Tomorrow,” she said, pretending to be calm, even though she was trembling all over.
He smiled, and she got the feeling he was thinking similar thoughts. If they signed together, they might never get a chance to explore the sparks between them.
“You two are hot,” Tasha said.
Gillian grinned. “I think I agree, but I want a record deal, not sparks.”
“You clearly want more than sparks with Will Adams,” she teased. “It’s totally obvious.”
Gillian thought Tasha was right, though sparks rarely led to anything but getting burned, which she had experienced first-hand. When she finally did find the right man, she’d want even more than sparks. The truth? She wanted love, but she wanted her music career first. And when love finally happened, she didn’t want it with someone like Will Adams, no matter how he rocked her to her core.
~~~~
Will handed Mitch the coffee and sat next to Audrey.
“She’s gonna be hot,” Audrey said.
She already is were the words on the tip of his tongue as he remembered the sweet scent of her perfume and the lingering aroma of sweetened coffee on her breath.
“She’s gonna be amazing, as long as we can sign her before these other bastards get to her.” His gaze moved from Mitch to a half dozen other music business people he knew around the room. He had a mind to stay and make sure nobody else got to talk to her, but it wasn’t his way to be desperate. Will knew exactly how to seduce a woman, but he’d learned there was a fine balance between showing eagerness and neutrality when seducing a client.
He just wished he could do both.
Chapter Six
Will accepted a steaming cup of coffee from Josie.
“Thanks. Did you get a phone call from Gillian Heart?”
“Not yet.”
“When you do, can you send her through?”
“I sure will.” Will thought he saw a small smile on Josie’s face as she shuffled back to her desk. He softly closed the door to his office, then typed Gillian’s name into his web browser. He didn’t usually troll for singers online, but he had a short list of bookmark
ed sites for when he did. Gillian Heart’s bio popped up on all of them. It described her as a small town girl from Gold Creek Gap. He rubbed his chin stubble.
Heart. Of course.
He leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’ll be dogged. She is his daughter after all.”
Leaning forward again, the chair squeaking under his weight, he clicked on a picture of Gillian Heart. She was posed in a country setting, possibly Gold Creek Gap, leaning against a rustic wooden fence post. Her green eyes peered from beneath a western straw hat, and her long hair cascaded around her shoulders, with a sleeveless blue top peeking through the strands. She wore a pair of jeans and those same boots she’d been wearing at The Blue Fiddle. He wondered if they were her favorites, or the only boots she owned.
When Josie transferred the call, he was expecting her.
“Gillian Heart.”
“Hi,” she said, sounding unsure.
“I wondered if you were ever gonna call,” he said.
There was a beat of silence. “You seem like such a busy person,” she said. “I didn’t want to presume.”
“Lesson one. If someone important gives you their number, call them as soon as possible.”
“Are you saying you’re important?” Her voice held a hint of playfulness that surprised him.
“I want you to come in,” he said.
“When?”
“The sooner the better.”
“I’m free today.”
“I am too. One o’clock?”
“OK.”
“And Gillian?”
“Yes?”
“Bring that guitar of yours.”
~~~~
Will automatically stood when Gillian Heart, dressed in blue jeans, boots and a red long-sleeved western shirt, stepped into his office. Her shirt was modest, downright chaste compared to what she’d worn when they’d bumped into each other the morning before, but no less sexy on her. He liked how the color set off the creamy skin of her cheeks.
“I’m glad you came,” he said, pulling out a leather chair. He was careful not to touch her as she sat down, even though he would have liked to lay a hand on her shoulder. She had an obvious case of the jitters that were making her hands shake.
Nashville by Heart: A Novel Page 4
