“I was afraid you might change your mind.” He took his own seat on the opposite side of the desk facing her.
“I wanted to come,” she said, offering him a nervous smile. He noted her glance at the collection of photographs and awards. The pictures of him with his top clients were his résumé, and they were displayed to impress music artists he was hoping to sign, like Gillian Heart. He gave her a moment to study them while he studied her.
She was star material, but she wasn’t the kind to know it, and that could be wildly attractive to an audience, never mind to him. The night before, Audrey had remarked about her small town quality. He was from a small town too, and he was struck with the thought that his sisters, who still lived there, would love her.
Eventually, Gillian’s gaze shifted to the large window that framed an impressive view of Music Row, where all the best music agents had offices. It was a prime piece of real estate in Nashville, and he’d been lucky to have bought it from a retiring agency years earlier after receiving the biggest songwriting paycheck in his life. He’d had to split it with Heart, the guy he assumed was Gillian’s dad, but there was plenty left over.
“So, Gillian. Tell me a little about yourself.”
She launched into a speech that was verbatim from the website, reminding him of a kid about to perform in a local talent show. It was cute, but they’d need to work on presentation when she wasn’t singing.
“I mostly learned to sing in church,” she said. “I know it’s cliché, but my momma taught me to play guitar, and I taught myself to play the banjo. I learned the violin in fifth grade, but when I was supposed to be practicing sonatas, I was practicing Wabash Cannonball.”
“I guess I like clichés,” he said. She gave him an easy smile, but he noted her clenched hands. “Lots of country musicians first cut their teeth on small town church music. Especially here in the South.”
She nodded. She was very short on words.
“That’s how I first fell in love with country music myself,” he said.
She looked surprised. “You? In church?”
He laughed out loud, which made her smile a little wider.
“You can’t always judge a book—or a record album—by the cover,” he said. “I don’t make it back much, but I’m from a small town.”
“That’s cool,” she said.
“How about you? Do you ever get back to Gold Creek Gap?” He wanted to ask her about her dad, wondering why she hadn’t mentioned him herself. Most folks would be quick to offer any connection they already had in a business where connections were often a way to get noticed.
“A few times a year to see my momma.”
“And your dad?”
Her eyes darkened. “He’s not in the picture.”
Will could see he needed to be careful, so he made his voice as matter of fact as possible. “But he’s in the music business, right?”
He hadn’t meant to be pushy, but the agent in him needed to know anything that could help him get her a record deal.
She gave him an indecisive stare, then a light seemed to dawn in her eyes before darkening back into a gray cloud.
“You mean Cooper Heart?”
He grinned. “Cooper Heart.”
“You’ve heard of him, then.”
“Of course. Who in country music hasn’t? At first I didn’t make the connection, but then I thought I remembered he was from Gold Creek Gap. I did a quick Internet search and sure enough, he is.”
“He was,” she said.
Will didn’t bother to probe into the relationship. He knew Cooper Heart only as a songwriter. Cooper kept his personal life close to the vest any time Will worked with him. It didn’t matter anyway. Will was interested in the connection for other purposes.
“How is he?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
He nodded. “If you’d mentioned him sooner, I would’ve cancelled everything to meet with you right away. Musical gifts often flow from generation to generation, and your dad has written dozens of hits. But you already know that.”
She narrowed her eyelids. “Trust me. I got my talent from my momma.”
“She writes too?”
Gillian nodded. “And sings like a dream.”
“So you have it from both sides. You know, I’m surprised your dad didn’t call me about you coming in. For that matter, he could’ve brought you in himself. He in town?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I can make my own way.”
He nodded. That was an odd thing for a daughter to say about her father. He made a mental note to check on what else Cooper Heart had been up to in the past decade, just to see if there were any skeletons Will might have to work with—or that might work for him—if he got Gillian Heart to let him represent her.
“Listen. Your story’s important. You’re the daughter of a single mom, you’re from a small town, your dad left when you were a little girl, and he just happens to be this great Nashville connection. And yet, you are here all on your own, without him, trying to make it. Record labels are going to love that. Your fans are going to want the whole package, and you’ve got it.”
“What’s the whole package?”
He chuckled. Apparently bringing up her father had made her a little feisty.
“For starters,” he said, “you’re gorgeous.” She was a knockout, and he enjoyed being able to tell her so with his agent hat on, even though it made her cheeks blush deeper. “You also have a good story, even though I can see it makes you uncomfortable to talk about it. But most importantly you can sing.”
She smiled, looking a bit dazed, and he decided not to press her any further about Cooper Heart right then.
“So,” he said, motioning to her guitar case. “Why don’t you sing for me right now?”
“Um. OK. What should I play?”
“Anything at all, darlin’.”
It didn’t take her long to get settled before she started picking out a rhythm, accompanied by the haunting lyrics of a love song with a bluegrass feel. He was heady with excitement about the way it fit her story, her personality and the sweet Southern voice spilling out of her mouth like honey. He was surely in love—at least with her voice—and that, thank the good Lord, was allowed.
“And then there’s this.” She launched into a song he instinctively knew would make people want to sing along. When she finished, he felt himself grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Dang, girl. You wrote all these yourself?”
“Yep.”
“Sing me another.”
She obliged, and his body involuntarily kept time with the music, nodding with the beat, tapping and slapping.
At The Blue Fiddle he’d only heard her sing Patsy Cline songs, and they were good, but these songs made his pulse race, and for once it wasn’t only because of how pretty she was. Looks might help a singer’s career, but talent secured it. Gillian could sing and write, and she had a breezy acoustic feel that record companies would love. She strummed the last note, letting it resonate through his office, before slapping her hand down on the strings.
For a few seconds Will could only stare.
“What?” The Southern drawl in her voice was a little thicker from being so freshly lost in her songs. He shook his head, in love with every song she sang.
“Do you play anything besides that guitar, the banjo and the fiddle?” As if that weren’t already enough.
“The mandolin, and of course, the piano.”
“Of course you do.” She was Cooper Heart’s daughter, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud after her earlier response to his mentioning the name. It was rare for artists to walk into his office and sing their own story in a way that was so authentically part of their roots, and at the same time, a reflection of the newer, more progressive sound in country music. If he could get her to sign with him, he’d do everything he could to protect that sound.
She wriggled under his gaze. “Did you like it?”
&n
bsp; “Darlin’, I’m in love.” He thoroughly enjoyed seeing her melt under his praise. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna marry you on the spot.”
Smiling, she stared down at her guitar, strumming a few chords. He’d been kidding, but a flash of her all in white wasn’t an unpleasant picture. It filled him with a sentimentality that shocked him. He’d never been a romantic before, not when it came to his future.
She smiled. “Are you proposing?”
So she did have some spunk underneath that shyness.
He didn’t miss a beat. “There is a Vegas-style chapel down the road. It’s Elvis-themed, if you’re into that.”
“Now that would be crazy,” she said, laughing.
He laughed too. What a crazy thought. But watching her slim shoulders shake with laughter, he thought it wouldn’t be too crazy in a different situation in which he was free to pursue her as a woman instead of as a client. He sighed. That was never gonna happen. He’d been there, done that, with someone else once, and it’d been a disaster in which everyone involved was hurt, but especially the girl. He ignored the guilty pang in his heart. He’d never been anything but bad for women, especially the good ones.
“Then will you at least let me rep you?” he asked, shifting to the serious face he used for business deals.
Her giggles stopped, and a look of mild surprise passed over her features, as if his proposing to represent her was crazier than his pretend marriage proposal.
The heck if she doesn’t blush again, he mused.
He hoped she wouldn’t turn red on stage every time she performed, but in the privacy of his office, he found it charming. In fact, it made him want to touch her cheek, kiss that sweet mouth of hers until all her fears were gone.
“What do you say?” he asked, mentally straightening his music manager hat. “Can I be your agent?”
“You want me that badly?” she asked. He could tell she was being sincere, nothing but music on her mind.
“Yes, I definitely want you.” It was all he could do to keep a straight face, his mind on just the music. It wasn’t an easy task when she embodied all the things he would love in a woman, if he were to ever fall in love with one again.
“Well then, yes,” she said. “I’d be honored.”
“You would?” He wondered if she realized she was good enough to get any agent in Nashville if she worked on her presentation and told people she was Heart’s daughter. Most agents didn’t have time for shy, mousy girls, but surely those other agents had been impressed with her at The Blue Fiddle. Lord have mercy. He should have some competition.
“You’ll let me rep you then?”
“Sure I will. I need to cancel a few appointments first. A few agents approached me last night, and I scheduled appointments with them, just in case.”
“Of course they did.” Will felt a wave of jealousy. “Just tell Josie who they were, and she’ll cancel them for you.”
She nodded.
“OK,” he said, leaping up like a spring and reaching across the desk for her hand. They shook on it, and his mind was running a million directions at once.
“We have a lot of planning to do,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. You still available for lunch?”
“Sure,” she said, grinning. “But no sushi.”
Chapter Seven
Gillian hated the messy scrawl that was supposed to be her signature as she scratched the pen across the bottom of her contract with Adams Music Management, but it would do. It’d only been a few days since her meeting with Will, and just like that, after three years in Nashville, she had a music agent.
Gillian couldn’t wait to call her momma. She’d be over the moon with happiness. Gillian had hoped and prayed she’d accomplish her dreams of being a singer, not only for herself, but for her momma—and this was the biggest step so far. For a sentimental instant, she thought of her dad too. Last she’d heard of him, he was spending the majority of his time on some island in the Caribbean with one of his girlfriends, limiting his time in Nashville to a few months a year. The chances she’d ever run into him again were slim to none. And it was a good thing, she reminded herself. She never wanted to see him again.
“Congratulations.” Will drew her back to the present. He held the contract up for Josie who was holding a camera, a friendly smile on her face.
“Welcome to the Adams Family,” Josie said, a wry look on her face. As corny as it was, it made Gillian laugh. There was a click and a flash, forever capturing Will’s confident grin and Gillian’s dazed is-this-really-happening smile.
~~~~
“I guess that necklace you gave me finally brought some luck,” she told Momma over the phone.
“Honey, that necklace isn’t lucky. You signed that contract because you worked hard and you deserve it. Will Adams is a smart man to get you to sign with him.”
“He didn’t have to try that hard.”
“Don’t you ever tell him that, honey.”
Gillian smiled, imagining the tough look her momma would have on her face right at that moment if she could see her.
“OK. I won’t.”
“I miss you, baby.”
The homesickness hit Gillian like a train. She choked back a sob. “I miss you too, Momma.”
“Baby, be strong. It’s all coming together.”
“I know,” Gillian said. “So tell me, what’s new in Gold Creek Gap?”
Her mom laughed. “Honey, nothing is ever new here.”
“Good,” Gillian said. “Tell me about it.”
“Honey, are you really that homesick?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, baby.” She cleared her throat, and Gillian knew that, like her, Momma was holding back her own tears.
“All right,” Momma said. “Melanie had another baby.”
“She did? Oh my goodness. A boy or a girl?” Melanie was her cousin and had been her best friend growing up. But they hadn’t been in touch much since Gillian moved to Nashville.
“Girl. She named her Sheyenne.”
“Really? I love it. We can call her Shey.”
“That’s what I told her.” As Gillian curled up on her bed, she pulled close the quilt her momma had made and listened as she rattled on about all the news and gossip. When she started yawning, her momma heard and said she had to go.
“I’ll visit soon,” Gillian said.
“Don’t you dare do that. I’ll come see you instead, as soon as I can take some time off work, OK?”
“But it’s not the same here. It’s busy and noisy.”
“Pretty soon, you’re going to be too busy to be homesick.”
Gillian doubted anything could take her mind off all of the things she missed about home, but she’d throw herself into her music anyway. If her career took off, she’d have enough money to go back and forth between Nashville and Gold Creek Gap as much as she wanted, and unlike her no-good dad, she’d never stop going back to see Momma.
~~~~
“I hope you’re ready for your first big gig,” Will said. They were ordering at a little coffee shop within walking distance of her and Tasha’s apartment. One thing she’d learned about Will is he wasn’t one to sit in his office all day. It wasn’t unusual for him to be meeting with clients and record executives in coffee shops, restaurants and even on the golf course. She drew the line at the golf course.
“You should go with me some time,” he told her.
“No thanks. Nobody in Gold Creek Gap golfs, so I never learned.”
“I grew up in a small town too,” he said. “And now I can play mediocre par.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s mediocre,” he said with a chuckle. “One stroke over par on every hole.”
“Hmm. Maybe someday,” Gillian said. “If you’ll stop trying to get me to eat sushi.”
He laughed. “I’m never going to stop trying to get you to like sushi.”
Still dressed in a white collared polo style shirt and a pair of
khaki shorts, he looked adorable, even if she preferred his boots.
“What? You don’t golf in boots?” she asked.
“Only because they won’t let me.” He carried their drinks to a corner table near the window.
“So where’s my first big gig?”
“The Steel Spur.”
She set her coffee down abruptly, causing the lid to pop off. It was only the biggest place for an up-and-coming music artist to perform in Nashville, besides The Wild Horse Saloon and the Ryman, of course.
“Holy cow, Will. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I mean, I just signed. Don’t I need some kind of grooming or training or something?”
“I have a girl who’ll help you with your hair, maybe some of those highlights and stuff, some new jeans that you can pay the agency back for later. That kind of thing, but mostly, I want you to be the small town girl I saw at The Blue Fiddle.”
She’d been hoping he’d get her a giant makeover with someone who knew what they were doing, something to get rid of the small town in her. And pay the agency back? The mere thought of it made her sick to her stomach. It’d be a long time before she’d have enough money for that, but she’d pay every penny when she could.
“Why do you want me to be a small town girl? Maybe I came here to get away from all that.”
~~~~
Will smiled, knowing she’d never get away from all that. Heaven knows, he’d tried himself, and his own small town upbringing remained deeply embedded no matter how long he’d lived in Nashville. One thing he loved about Gillian’s personality was that she was so unaware of how endearing the whole small town thing was, not only to him, but to an audience.
“I like small town girls,” he said. “I came from a small town, remember?”
“When’s the last time you went back?”
Her question hit him square in the heart. His mom had asked him the same question the night before on the phone. He called her once a week, no fail, and she always asked the same question. He needed to visit soon. He was always intending to, but he was just so busy. Of course, his parents didn’t understand that, especially his mom.
Nashville by Heart: A Novel Page 5
