That Night in Nashville (Ticket to True Love)

by Savannah Kade

  “I'm at The Bluebird on Tuesday,” she offered up and he wanted to smile for her. The Bluebird had been on her list of goals, but she didn't stop to acknowledge either that she'd made it or that he knew she had. “After that, we're heading up into Kansas, Oklahoma, Illinois. A bunch of stops across the country.”

  “You’re on tour?”

  She nodded softly and sipped at the beer she’d ordered.

  Something reached inside his chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed. She was already leaving, and he’d only just found her again.

  But he hadn't found her. She wasn't his, despite yesterday afternoon’s interlude. She clearly wasn’t going to throw away her dreams and stay with him. She hadn’t the first time, when she’d actually been his girlfriend, she surely wouldn’t now.

  Adam tried to focus on everything else. There was so much more to talk about. Even if they couldn't untangle the past, they had to untangle at least yesterday. But still, all he could think about was seeing her up there on that stage.

  He hated that her dreams had taken her away from him. And he loved that she'd made it. Maybe she wasn't playing an arena yet. Maybe she was opening for a band who was opening for someone else who was opening for a headliner that was playing much later in the evening, but she was on stage.

  The crowd had loved her today. He’d watched as she took the stage to a loosely populated lawn. People had come in with plates of food and steins of beer. More and more had sat down or stood and swayed despite the humidity and the direct sun. She’d charmed them all.

  She even had paraphernalia to sign in a tent after her show. Adam had thought about getting one of the posters from her, but her handlers had lined people up to get her autograph. He wasn’t about to stand in that line to get his signed merch and then get quickly shuffled out of the way so she could John Hancock the next one. He could see himself protesting, “No, man, I really do know her!” but what if Hailey didn’t protest with him? What if she just smiled at him to scoot along and let her get to her next fan? He hadn’t even tried it.

  For years, he dreamed he would hear on the radio that she had a show in town. If the music industry ran on pure talent, Hailey would have already been a star. He thought maybe he’d buy a ticket when she came to town. In his daydreams, he might stand in line and wait, only to have her scream out his name and dive across the stage or the signing table to envelope him in a bear hug and say how much she missed him.

  Clearly, that was not how their reunion had gone.

  The silence settled in at the table and the nerves ran in small circles in his chest. Adam ran his hand down his new glass of beer, wiping the sweat onto the coaster. He watched as Hailey picked hers up, attempting to sip, but nervously gulping. Maybe that was what had made him start speaking—so she couldn’t immediately start yelling at him.

  She was swallowing when he said it. Bad timing on his part.

  “We didn't use any protection yesterday.”

  Though she choked a little and coughed, she didn’t get mad. He’d been expecting more. He’d had other girlfriends since Hailey, and he was used to being blamed for any errors.

  She coughed again as she waved a hand at him. With a deep breath, she looked up at him as though he wasn’t talking about them having sex in her dressing room tent yesterday. “Don't worry.” Her words were steadier about this than about anything else she’d said since she arrived at the table. “The timing is all wrong. There's nothing to be concerned about.”

  “But I am concerned,” he pressed, still confused by her lack of worry. Was she on the pill? Accidents happened. She didn’t say anything, and he pushed. “You're leaving town in a bit—heading out all over the country. It's practically impossible for a woman to have a child she doesn't know about, but it's definitely something that can happen to a man.”

  He watched as her eyes slowly narrowed at him. This time they didn't gloss over. This time she didn't tip her head. He knew this expression, too. He’d stepped in it—big time.

  8

  Was he serious?

  Hailey felt her blood start to boil, and all the beer in the world wouldn't have calmed her down. She tried to count to ten but barely made it to three before she blurted out, “Do you really think I would run off and have your child—on my own—and not tell you?”

  As though her words pushed him physically, his head had slowly pulled back away from her. Obviously, he needed to say no. But also obviously, some part of him had thought it was possible.

  Putting her hands flat on the table—she at least managed to refrain from actively slapping them down—she leaned forward. “Listen. I live in a small, one-bedroom apartment. There is no space for a baby. I’m going to be on the road for the better part of the next six months. Let's discuss what it looks like to have a pregnant country star up on stage. An unmarried one.” She waited a beat while he managed to only raise one eyebrow while still looking contrite. “Yeah, it’s not gonna fly. So maybe this little meeting is over, and you don't need to worry about it.”

  Her hands were still pressed flat against the tabletop. Pushing herself up awkwardly, she slid out of the booth and stalked toward the front door. Let him pay for her beer, she thought. She’d intended to cover herself. But now? No.

  She felt his presence following along. Or she smelled the hint of his aftershave—the same one he’d worn when she’d been in high school. Or maybe she was just so in tune to him that she simply knew he was right behind her without looking. She was ready even before she felt his hand on her arm. So at least it didn’t jerk her backwards, but it did stop her angry march out of the joint.

  Still mad, she turned to face him. “What do you want? Do you have more ways to insult me, Adam?”

  Shaking his head, he only said, “No.” Then he immediately dialed back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to insult you in the first place. I just didn't want to lose an opportunity.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him, then she glanced down at his hand, still clasped around her forearm. She watched as he loosened his hold and his fingers slid downward toward her wrist. He was almost holding her hand.

  “What kind of opportunity do you see here?” she asked, truly wanting to know.

  “Come back to the table.” He sighed it out. The words were a soft command but the emotion made it into more of a plea. It was getting to her; he always did. “Come back before the server clears our beer away. Let me buy you dinner. Let's just talk, just catch up for a moment.”

  But Hailey didn't move. His request sounded reasonable. Then again, saying hello to him yesterday had sounded reasonable too and look where that had gotten her! He tugged on her wrist once and she began to follow along, thinking through everything that had landed her in this position. Saying hello yesterday had gotten her into the tent. The interlude in the tent had gotten them here. At least this was a public restaurant and they couldn't do anything untoward on this table.

  Not here. Not in the booth. But thinking that they couldn’t do it on the restaurant table made her imagine it. Her mind flashed with images of him sweeping the beer onto the floor, unconcerned about the mess and the broken glass, only focused on her. She could see him laying her back onto the tabletop and…

  She wanted to wonder where that had come from. But the fact was, she knew this was Adam. This was her. And had yesterday really been all that unexpected? He was the one man who’d ever made her want to throw everything away and just stay with him. She’d always wondered if she ever ran into Adam again would they get back together? Sleep together? Now she didn’t have to wonder.

  Her other thought—that she might see him and realize that she was finally, truly over him—had not happened. She wasn’t over him. She could feel the heat from his touch all the way up her arm and she wanted to feel it everywhere else. Just like yesterday. Bad decision or not.

  He guided her back into the seat at the booth, almost as though he wanted to be sure she was firmly in and wouldn't slip out and run away. The beer was still waiting for them
—still cold, still sweating onto the coaster as though needing something to do. She picked it up and took another sip.

  When the silence stretched between them and it became clear that he hadn’t thought past getting her back into the booth with him, she asked, “What is it that you want to know?”

  Adam looked like it pained him to ask. But he asked anyway. “When you left, where did you go?”

  He didn't have to clarify. They both knew what it meant—When she left.

  “I came to Nashville. Just like I said I would.” The last phrase came out a bit defensive. She wished he hadn't said it, but he didn't seem to take it badly.

  “So you’ve been here ever since?”

  Hailey shook her head. “Nashville was hard at first. I cut a CD on my own, paid for it out of savings, knocked on doors to hand it to agents. But I was just another kid with a demo. I mean, they liked me, but there was always something that kept them from actually signing me.”

  “If you didn’t stay here the whole time then where did you go?”

  “Los Angeles.” She said it with a grin and a tip of her beer as though toasting something imaginary.

  “Was it better out there?”

  She had to shrug at that. She was telling him the easy parts of her story. Not how she’d huddled on her cheap motel bed with the chair wedged under the flimsy doorknob, equally afraid of the predators she’d been warned about and looming failure. How should she say it? “There were more struggling artists in LA than in Nashville. I’d anticipated that the rent was higher, but I hadn’t saved enough extra. Still, the weather was great and despite all the struggling artists, there weren't that many country singers. Waitressing jobs expected that you would have a script in your back pocket to wave at any influential patrons. So when I had sheet music, or a country music CD, it made me a little unique. I joined SAG—”

  “The Screen Actors Guild?” he asked incredulously. “I didn't know you wanted to be an actress.”

  “I didn't. But it was pretty easy to get work as an extra. It paid well enough, and it allowed me a lot of open time.”

  “Were you in anything I might have seen?” Now he was grinning, and she could feel her face starting to widen into a smile as well. This was her Adam, the Adam who was happy for her. Who was proud of her achievements. The one she'd remembered from back before they started fighting.

  She rattled off a few films she’d been an extra for and watched as his eyes widened. He could never hide anything from her, and she could tell right now that he'd seen her in the crowd scenes. Up until this moment, he probably thought he'd imagined that it was her.

  She understood. There'd been so many times walking down the street she would catch a glimpse of someone and think it was Adam. She would run a few steps to catch up, only to discover she'd been wrong.

  “But you didn't stay in LA.”

  She shook her head. “Three years. Nothing panned out there either. I did a few gigs here and there, but didn’t get an agent, and by the time three years was up, I’d gone to all of them. So I packed everything up and drove across the country again. When I came back to Nashville, things were better for me. I don’t know if I was a more ‘seasoned’ performer or what. But I started playing clubs and earning some money. Then, almost a year ago, everything changed.”

  9

  She’d done it, Adam thought.

  Hailey had moved several times and it hadn't happened instantaneously, but she'd gotten signed to a record deal—if they still called them that. He'd seen the poster they put up for her. The advertising said a voice like God's own hurricane. They weren't wrong.

  She wasn't waiting tables anymore or being an extra in crowd scenes. She was paying her bills by singing on stage. She had to be so proud. He knew because he was. Though it hadn’t happened to him yet, he knew he would hear her song on his radio in the next few days. Adam knew his hand would change the station and wait to hear her now. So far, he’d simply been avoiding country music so he wouldn’t hear her. That was hard to do in Tennessee, but he’d managed it.

  As kids, they’d listened all the time. She loved it so much and he’d always known that one day he would hear her voice through the speakers. After she left, he’d known that hearing her on the radio would break his heart.

  According to their original plans, he would have been there beside her, holding her hand, and listening to her scream with delight the first time her song aired. But that moment had passed without him.

  He’d effectively avoided Hailey Pulaski/Watkins for eight long years. He’d made sure he didn’t inadvertently hear her voice. He’d put away all the pictures he had of her. He’d even pushed her out of his thoughts. But now that they’d made love in her dressing room tent, things were different. Surely, he could change the radio station and handle what he heard.

  One day, probably soon, she wouldn't just be a local country singer. She'd be big, a national star.

  He was waiting for her to shift from telling him what she’d already done and start into her plans. Hailey always had plans. She had steps and a rundown. She understood things might not go in the order she thought, or that she might have to knock on more doors than she wanted, but she always had it all figured out. Maybe not a checklist hung on her wall, but certainly firmly in her head.

  She surprised him by not saying any of that. “I thought you were going to go work in the chicken factory. How does that get you into Nashville, rigging a brewers festival country show…in a suit?”

  He hadn't quite wanted to go into this. His plan had been to talk about her. If they talked about him, they’d eventually get to the part that made him hate her sometimes. So he glossed it over. “I did work at the chicken factory for two and a half years.”

  He watched as her eyebrows climbed. But instead of pushing harder, she took a sip of her beer. She did it sweetly, almost as though she were flirting with him. Though he held off saying more, she waited him out. She'd always had the ability to make him talk. “A family moved into the house next door to us and fixed it up. It turned out the father was a manager at a video equipment company. I hassled him for six months for a job here or there. So while I was still working at the factory, he managed to get me a couple of extra evening and weekend gigs, pushing around the crates. It wasn't great money, but it was extra money. And unlike the factory, I didn't have to wait until someone died or retired in order to move up.”

  He paused, but she still wasn’t jumping into the space. “After a handful of months, they either decided I knew enough or that they were short-handed enough that I was allowed to help set up the staging. I got a slight pay raise and things went up from there. I made friends with the owner, got more jobs. Eventually it was enough work to quit the factory.”

  Adam smiled when he said it. He could feel the rush all over again. It had been a proud day. He’d handed in his two weeks notice because he didn't want to be the guy who just walked out. Those two weeks had been the hardest weeks of his work there, knowing he was free of the hated job. Almost.

  He didn't tell Hailey any of that. He once again figured he'd let it drop there. But Hailey was still Hailey, and she pushed again. “So you decided to wear a suit when all the other guys are running around in their black cargo pants and black t shirts on a hot summer day? I don’t think so. You've got more to explain.”

  He gave her the short version. “When the owner retired, I bought the company from him.”

  “You own it?” He watched as her mouth fell open. Eight years they'd been apart and still this moment was more than gratifying. Yes, he'd stayed in Carroll Hollow. Yes. He'd stayed in the dingy house for a long time. For years they’d barely had enough for basic repairs, let alone enough money to fix it up. And yes, he'd stayed out of a sense of obligation. But he hadn't stayed stagnant.

  She may have gone out and made something of herself. He may have stayed put, but he'd made something of himself, nonetheless.

  “Are you still in Carroll Hollow? I mean, are you traveling here
for this job in Nashville?”

  Adam shook his head. “My mom is still in the same house, but I’m not. Clayton Images and Audio has our office in Knoxville. We work all over the area though.” He didn't add that his dream was to open up a Nashville branch, then a third in Atlanta. But he wasn't there yet. He was still buried under mounds of debt from buying out Clayton. He didn't tell her that either. She wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter. He ignored the stabbing feeling in his chest and smiled. “I have an apartment in Knoxville.”

  Her head tipped in for a moment. He wondered if she was disappointed that he wasn't living here in Nashville. It was certainly something he’d considered.

  Her head was tipping side to side as she considered all the things he’d told her. He didn't even know if she knew she did it, but it definitely meant she was thinking about something. He glanced down at his watch instead of looking at her more, and he didn’t like what he saw.

  “I've got to get back. I have to be there when the main shows go on.” Adam felt bad as soon as the words were out of his mouth, as though he'd insulted her by stating she wasn't one of the biggest shows. But the timing said she wasn't.

  “Of course,” she agreed readily. “Shall I get the check?”

  “No. I invited you, I’ll pay.” Raising his hand, he caught the server’s attention, and the check was pulled out with disturbing efficiency. He'd been hoping to milk a few more minutes out of this. He handed over his credit card and only managed a few more trite statements before the card and his slip were back and his time was up.

  They headed out the front door together. But once they were on the sidewalk, he and Hailey said goodbye and went different directions. Only then did he realize he hadn't asked if he could see her again.