by Mia Ford
Some of them answer, the others look like they really couldn’t care less. I’m not sure why I’m pushing it so hard and so fast, but I don’t give myself time to think about it. I’ve committed to the jump now I just need to stick the landing.
“What I did tonight was for a charity. It was a one-time thing. As in, not gonna happen again.” She is growing frustrated, and if I am serious with myself, I’m enjoying the banter back and forth. Blush is creeping into her cheeks and it is so damn adorable.
Her innocence is refreshing. I’m not used to people saying no to me, and a sick part of me likes it. The fact that I’m getting under her skin is a huge bonus.
I shove my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. “Who would have thought a teacher who sings in front of twenty students at a time would have stage fright in front of her peers?” Low blow but I don’t care. Her students glare at me letting me know that wasn't cool.
“Singing in class is vastly different. I am teaching, not entertaining. That was the last time I'll be center stage." She looks like she is resisting the urge to stomp her foot on the floor.
I flash her a wide smile. "No, it isn't," I took the opportunity to disagree with her.
She’s giving me a look that says, tell them and I’ll kill you. Of course, I have to tell them. They were clearly the reason she sang tonight so they may be able to sway her decision. I’m not even really sure when I became okay with the decision to have her singing with me, but I have, so might as well go with it.
The students look at our bizarre exchange with interest. If it takes playing dirty to get her to sing with me, then I am all about getting dirty.
I turn up my biggest smile and lean forward, talking to just the kids. I put my hand up, pretending that Ada can’t hear me and whisper loudly. “The reason I’m disagreeing with her is because my agent wants us to sing together. Do you know what a record deal is?”
A loud huff comes from Ada, but I pretend I can’t hear her and continue my underhanded ways.
Some of the kids just stare while others nod like I’m an idiot. I decide to explain anyway. “You know the music you hear on radios and stuff like that? That’s what my agent wants your teacher to do.” I look up at Ada, and she is seething. I can just about see all the nasty thoughts she is thinking about me. I am already committed to the routine, why not go down with a bang?
“If she decides to sing with me she could become famous. How awesomely cool would that be?”
Loud cheers and claps go up from some of the kids as they excitedly urge her to become famous. However, some of them looked unsure.
I hope I don’t sound like a stuck-up asshole. Because classifying myself as a big deal makes me seem a lot surer of myself than I actually am.
The students are a mix of emotions. The small blonde girl who was praising her when I walked up is the first to speak.
“Miss Springfield doesn’t want to be famous, she likes teaching us and her quiet life.”
“Is that true Miss Springfield,” I ask, “Do you like your quiet life?”
“I think it will be so cool,” another boy says before she can answer. “You would be the only famous person I know besides my cousin Robbie. He got lost at the Mall of America for a whole day.”
Ada nods thoughtfully maybe I got to her through her students. I think I want this more for her to have a chance at success than I do. Maybe it will make up for my being an asshole to her in high school. That’s a little scary caring about what happens in her life so much after just a short time knowing her again.
“I just don’t think we’d be a good match, Mr. Maxwell,” she says stiffly. “I don’t know anything about show business and what if our voices don’t go well together?”
“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to give it a chance?” I ask her blocking her path as she’d been trying to inch her way to the edge of the chairs. I avoid laughing at her calling me Mr. because I can see she’s not in the mood for that.
Now the students are on my side a bit. They are saying perhaps she should try. I can see hope in all their faces and it kind of touches me how much they care about her. “You should do it, Ms. Springfield. You’re so awesome.”
“Yeah, Ms. Springfield.”
Ada just shakes her head, uncomfortable with all the attention her students are giving her. If she does decide to sign with us, then we are going to have to work on this whole demure and shy thing. I like the idea of breaking her out of her shell. Once she gets over her stage fright she will be spectacular. This could be a fabulous story, not just rags to riches. What's the one with the ugly duckling and the swan?
Seeing that I’m not getting as far as I’d like. I try a different approach. “Okay, how about this, let me take you out Monday night after work and we can just talk about it. That’s all we’ll do… just talk about it. You don’t have to make any kind of commitment. I just want you to listen to what I have to say. Hell . . . “
Ada does smirk now as she looks up at me. “You really should watch your mouth, Mr. Maxwell. You really should set a good example for young minds.”
If only she knew what I had been thinking about doing before the talent show. The drugs in my pocket weigh heavily against my thigh. Suddenly I'm aware of how bad it is that I have it at the high school.
I nod and do my best to look chastised. “I’m sorry, Ms. Springfield. But, what do you say? Does Monday night work for you?”
I watch as she mentally wages a war. If she agrees, it means she has to step out of her comfort zone and take a chance. If she declines, it means she will always wonder, what if. At least I imagine that’s what she’s thinking, she could be thinking of what she wants to eat for dinner for all I know. I’m not breathing as she considers her answer.
She reluctantly nods. “Okay, seven o’clock. Lila has my address so ask Thomas.”
I’m a little shocked she agreed but step out of her way so she can dash off behind the stage. “Alright,” I say more to myself than anything.
“You better not dick her over,” the guy who’d been so excited said. I look at his serious expression and can tell immediately, he means business.
“We’ll be watching you,” the little blonde points to her eyes and then mine. Who knew Ada had such a protective group of students. It was impressive that she could inspire such devotion.
“I’m not,” I argue and they all go out leaving me with my thoughts as Thomas comes back up to me.
“So, is she on board?” He is grinning ear to ear and reminds me a little bit of the Cheshire cat.
“We’re going out Monday night to talk about it. She’s not made a decision yet.”
To my utter shock and disbelief, I find myself anxious that I won’t be able to get her to sing with me. After our little battle, I feel almost desperate to get her to say yes. Maybe it goes back to not being used to being told no.
"Thomas, are you going to come tie one on?" I change the subject needing to get the thought of Ada possibly saying no off my mind.
"No, not tonight. I have a hot date with Lila."
“Your loss.” I wave at my agent and head to my truck.
The bar Savannah wants to meet at is called Rascals. It's not my usual hangout. I prefer bars with table service and expensive bar food so this will be different. Snob thing to say but I can’t change who I am. Up until my father and I had our falling out, he would take me to those places. The man enjoyed a good meal and a good scotch.
Nashville has a ton to offer and for every twelve country western bars you'll find an elegant club or upscale bar where those of us with money hang out. Savannah used to work at a nice one called Reds. After she missed work too many times, they canned her so now she works here in a much smaller, much more hole-in-the-wall place on the other side of town. So, I’m slumming it tonight.
One thing is the same across the board, the drugs. No matter where you go, you can find them. Hot little Savannah is a fan of coke so I brought a little to give to her. A little bump
to keep us both going all night long. Well, for her, I’ll stick with my drug of choice, alcohol. A distraction from a music teacher who has taken over my thoughts.
I walk up to the front of Rascals. It's a typical dive bar with shady patrons standing outside smoking and a bouncer who doesn't want to be here. Saturday appears to be their busy night.
"ID?" The guy asks in a deep voice. I show it to him and he laughs.
"What's funny?" I ask confused a slither of unease snakes down my spine.
"Just watch your ass tonight rich boy," he says. Stepping to the side he lets me walk into a smoke-filled loud bar. A typical scene with people everywhere. The bar is small with a curved bar to the side complete with red leather stools. Most of the seats are taken with boisterous locals buzzed out of their minds, and alcohol clearly isn't the only thing they are buzzing on.
I walk up to the bar and find Savannah sitting there. She’s looking good in her bar uniform which consists of short shorts and a red t-shirt that’s cut off. It reads I’m a Rascal and there couldn’t be a better description of her.
“Hey, there sexy,” I tell her watching her brighten as she sees me. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing a slender neck. Her plump lips are the color of wine and I briefly imagine what they’d be like wrapped around my cock. Bright blue eyes sparkled back at me, and I can tell that she’s already had a hit of something.
“Charlie,” she squeals and leans over the bar to hug me. She smells like every man’s wet dream. The other patrons she’d been talking to give me a hateful look as she ignores them, and I send them a wink. Not surprisingly, there are only men at the bar and her tip jar is full.
“You have my stuff?” She asks, wiping down the bar and continuing to ignore the protest of the others. Her bottom lip pushes out as she pouts waiting for my answer. This is a girl who gets what she wants. I see a sad future for her if she doesn't stop this shit though. No good can come of drug use, leisurely or otherwise. I'm the one bringing it to her I think with a sting of conscience. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?
“Of course, I do. Why don’t you get me a Jack and Coke?” I whisper my index finger tracing the grain of the wood. “I’ll pay ya with a twenty in a bit,” I say with a flirty wink.
She gives me a nod and a brilliant white smile before flouncing off to get my drink. I take a moment to watch her walk away, admiring her tight ass as it nearly peeks out from beneath her shorts. My pants tighten as I imagine all the things I want to do to her later.
Next, I take a moment to look around the bar and see a group of guys in the corner staring at me. They range in age and are surrounding a table of older men. One of them looks really familiar to me, but I can’t quite place him. I give them a little nod and receive nothing back.
I turn back around to smile at Savannah and feel someone put their hand on my shoulder. I know it’s one of the guys from the table before I look. My shoulder tenses but I stay still waiting to see what he’s going to do.
“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here tonight, Maxwell.” He says and I push his hand away and stand up.
I’m not exactly known for having the most level head when confronted, but since hiring Thomas as my agent, I’ve really tried to work on the whole turning your other cheek thing. Most of the time. This guy can kiss my ass. I don’t even know who he is but I hate him already.
I try to keep my cool while at the same time sizing him up. Thomas would be proud of me. For how long is yet to be seen. He's the one who can speak rationally when his blood is boiling. If he were here, the situation might not be as dire.
“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t know you.” I say as I look at him and the other three guys he’s brought up with him. The older men still sit at the table looking my way and I feel a bit threatened. I’m not one to back down though, even though I know this is not going to end well.
The man’s face is blotchy with anger. His ham-like fists are curled in at his sides. The threat in his eyes very real. He leans closer into my personal space. “Your father. He just thinks he can lay off people for no good reason. We’ve got families, we’ve got mortgages.” His breath reeks of whiskey and cigarettes.
I frown at him, trying to think of the best way to defuse the situation. There’s really not one so I do the best I can. The bouncer’s words making more sense. My father would screw up my night without even knowing it. “I don’t have anything to do with what my father does,” I sit back down at the bar. “Let me just enjoy my drink, and we can all just go about our lives.” If only this would work, but my day doesn’t seem to be going the way I want it to. In my experience people already itching for a fight will follow through, the testosterone has already taken over their whole body.
Savannah brings my drink over and looks concerned. “You okay here, honey?” she asks, her blue eyes darting from me then back to the men. I shake my head to tell her it’s fine. She scatters away and I hope she is getting help.
Rage tints the guy’s voice as he speaks. “No, we don’t have a life to go to anymore, thanks to your asshole father, and the best I can tell is that if we can’t enjoy our lives, neither can you. We’re going to send a message to your daddy about laying off people who’ve dedicated their lives to his company.”
Okay, things are about to get way out of hand. I toss back the rest of my drink and slide off my stool to face him. I guess I am a glutton for punishment because instead of just walking away, I open my mouth. “What message do you think you’re going to send using me, huh? I barely talk to him.” And as soon as I ask the question I know the answer and I know it’s going to hurt.
He smiles and punches me in the face hard knocking me completely backward. I knew he was spoiling for a fight, but damn, that was one hell of a punch. I don’t really have time to contemplate anything as I climb to my feet. I work my jaw back and forth, making sure it’s not broken and then take a swing, but I’m not quick enough. Two of the dude’s buddies have stepped forward and grabbed a hold of me, slinging me around trapping me for more punishment.
People are chanting around us most of them not on my side. Savannah screams for them to leave me alone, but it falls on deaf ears. I should have made her meet me when she got off work. I shouldn't go into bars without security guards I know and VIP sections that I can hide in.
Because I know I need to keep my mouth shut but often lack the ability, I pipe up. “If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask. You’re not my type but . . .” That’s as far as I get as they hold my arms back and the first guy pummels me again. This time he gets me in the eye. Stars explode around my vision as my neck is snapped back. Thomas is going to kick my ass when he sees my face. He’s scheduled for me to get new headshots this week and I’m sure he was not going for the ground meat look.
I’m getting pissed. Not just because this guy and his lackeys outnumber me, but because they have a valid reason to be pissed at my old man. However, that is not my fault. I’m sick of getting treated like an asshole because of my dickhead father. I’m enough of an asshole in my own life not to need any extra. I stiffen my spine and spit a stream of blood on the floor. “You’re a real big man, gotta fight with your cronies holding me back,” I smirk at him because there’s no way I’m backing down now. Even though this is my dad’s fight.
“He’s right. Let him go,” the guy is really amped up now. “I’ve wanted to hit this dickhead since high school.”
Great more of my past is coming back to haunt me. I wasn’t that big of a dick in high school that I remember. The other guys let me go and I put my hands up ready to defend myself.
“Nope, get the hell out of here now,” a large man is coming from the back of the bar. I assume he’s the owner or an angel. “Doug get in here and get these men out.”
The bouncer comes in and grabs me by my shirt. He laughs as he pulls me towards the door. “I told you to watch your ass, dumbass.”
“Well next time could you be more specific? �
��I spit out my jaw aching.
“Doug all these men have to go,” I hear the guy screaming at the bouncer behind me.
“He didn’t pay for his drink,” I hear Savannah screech as she points at me. Everyone stops for a fraction of a second to stare at her outburst. I’m the only one who knows what it was really about. She doesn’t care about that or me. She cares that she can’t get her fix if I don’t give her the twenty.
The bouncer pulls me away from the bar and we go by the table of older men and they still sit there just observing. One of the older gentlemen sitting around the table nods his head at me.
I hear Savannah screaming, “Let me go, Vince. He didn’t pay. Let me go get the money.”
He must be holding her back. I don’t care for coke, it’s not my drug of choice. I have no problem getting it for her anytime and letting her have it, and it is a fun time when we get high together. She needs to stop acting like a fool if she doesn’t get her shit together, however, they’re going to catch on. I will her to calm the hell down as the bouncer makes it outside with me.
“Those guys get to stay and drink?” I mutter as I rub my jaw.
“They’re regulars, rich boy, they come in all the time. You’re the outsider here. Whatever you were bringing the bartender, take it with you. She’s a nice girl, and I will call the cops.”
I snort when he says, nice girl. He has no idea how deep in the nose candy she is. The threat of the cops is what stops me from running my mouth. She has never gotten it from me before, and the guy I got it from told me he's seen her hanging around his dealer. She's no stranger to the scene or the high.
