Made in Nashville: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘She just needs a chance.’

  ‘Grapevine says she’s still in therapy.’

  ‘I want her on the tour.’ He’d made it a statement rather than a request.

  ‘You’ve asked her, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yeah I asked her and she said no. But I can change her mind. We’ve written a song together. Granted she wrote most of it, but I said I’d be here today and she’ll be here and you can hear it,’ Jared explained.

  ‘You gave her a golden opportunity and she said no. That answers all my questions,’ Buzz said. He folded his arms across his chest.

  ‘Do people round here like writin’ people off? What happened to second chances? A little help? She’s got a voice…’ Jared started.

  ‘Like an angel. I know, you said and I’ve heard it. OK, you convince me she’s going to get up on stage, every night, at every stadium and open your show I’ll hold my hands up and say I was wrong. But, I’ll tell you, I’m confident I’ll be begging Vince Gill by the end of next week,’ Buzz stated.

  ‘I’ve got a week?’ Jared asked him.

  ‘Seven short days and then I’m making the call,’ Buzz said in his serious voice.

  Chapter Six

  ‘Hey, doll I’m gonna make a move. You OK to lock up?’

  She’d sold twenty-five copies of Jed Marshall’s latest album that day. Apparently he’d bitten the head off of Davey Duncan, the notorious jock from Countrified 103 and the town had loved it. One old lady said she really wished Jared had whupped Duncan’s ass.

  ‘Honor?’ Mia called.

  ‘Sorry? What did you say?’ She raised her head, putting the CD down on the counter.

  ‘Listen, I know how you feel about the scene and everything but there’s this great band playing tonight and Carly’s bailed on me. Want to eat burgers and fries and drink beer with me?’ Mia offered.

  ‘A country bar?’ Honor said, raising her eyebrow.

  ‘Are there any others in this town? Come on, you know I get twitchy at the hip-hop bar.’ Mia pulled a face, pouting out her lips and leaning her head to one side like she’d be emotionally harmed if the answer wasn’t yes.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t do country bars anymore. It was too painful to listen to all the talent, knowing what she’d had in the palm of her hand. Knowing what had been taken from her. Recording again was the start but she wasn’t even sure she was going to be able to go through with it. Larry had been euphoric when she’d called. If she let him down…

  ‘I swear, if they start trying a Vince Gill cover, we’re out of there,’ Mia continued.

  She opened her mouth to respond when Mia spoke again, her eyes on the parking lot.

  ‘Holy crap! Your boy’s here again.’

  Honor followed Mia’s line of vision out of the store. Jared Marshall was heading towards the door, baseball cap on his head, bike helmet swinging from one hand.

  ‘He looks pissed…but then he looked like that on the cover of the last issue of Maverick. I think that’s his thing.’

  He’d been at Black Monkey today. She knew that. He’d told her. And she’d deliberately ignored the invitation. She might have summoned up the strength to agree to try a studio session but she couldn’t commit to anything else. It was ridiculous! A collaboration with country hot property! Especially country hot property with gray eyes the depth of marble.

  The door opened.

  ‘Afternoon, ma’am,’ he greeted Mia, touching the peak of his cap in acknowledgement as he entered.

  Honor watched Mia liquefy before her eyes.

  ‘I…good afternoon, Mr Jed Marshall. It’s an honor to have you here. Can I get you anything? Anything at all. I’ve got great coffee or something strong? Bourbon?’

  Honor cringed as Mia actually giggled. Mia wasn’t a giggler she was a loud, raucous snorter. But she was an outrageous flirt and she was turning the store into Flirt Room 101 right now.

  ‘That’s very kind of you an’ all but I’m actually just here to see Miss Blackwood. If that’s OK with you. I promise I won’t keep her too long,’ Jared said, his gaze settling on Honor.

  She was glued to the spot by those eyes. She knew what he was going to say. He was going to ball her out for not going to the studios. Well, she was ready for him. She was going to give it a try and if she couldn’t do it then she couldn’t do it. No matter what, she didn’t need his help. Anything she decided was going to be on her own terms. She might be terrified of some things but she hadn’t lost her own mind.

  ‘Sure thing. I’ll just shuffle some stuff around over here. Not your stuff obviously. After today I’ve got to do another order for “Crazy Outlaw” copies,’ Mia rambled.

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Jared said. He smiled at her as she backed towards the percussion section.

  ‘Have you changed your mind about the Gretsch?’ Honor started. If she led this conversation she had a chance of keeping control of it.

  ‘Have you changed your mind about comin’ on tour with me?’

  Shit, he didn’t pull any punches.

  She’d tried to give him the serious look. But he could see her nerves sticking out a mile. That dark hair, tumbling down her back and those blue eyes, wide and so innocent looking. Nervous, but there was a fire in her. He could see that too. She might be scared as hell but she wasn’t weak.

  ‘No,’ she answered.

  ‘That’s a real shame. Because I haven’t changed my mind about makin’ you change your mind.’

  There. That should do it. He needed to make her one hundred percent certain he wasn’t giving up.

  She jutted her chin out a little, straightened up and met his eyes. God, she was too cute. He felt a pull inside himself and it made him reposition.

  ‘If you must know, I’m going back to the studios next week. My record company wants to release a greatest hits and my manager, well he thinks it’s a chance to tag on some new material.’

  She didn’t know why she’d told him that. It wasn’t any of his business and she shouldn’t really be talking about things that weren’t signed and sealed.

  ‘That’s great news. You get out your record and you can come promote it on my tour.’ He smiled, unblinking.

  ‘What’s this I hear? A tour?’ Mia piped up, turning to face them.

  ‘The answer’s still no,’ Honor told him.

  ‘Hold up. Let’s not be too hasty here. I mean, could I butt in and…’ Mia started.

  ‘No.’ Honor slammed the response. Her voice vibrated through the snare drum and Mia put a hand on it.

  ‘That’s cool. I’m tryin’ to force my band on you and you’ve probably got your own arrangements and all…’ he started.

  Now she felt plain rotten. He was at the top of his profession and for whatever reason he was offering her a chance of a lifetime. She couldn’t take it. She could barely look at herself in a mirror, let alone subject thousands of people to the image. But she could at least sound grateful instead of deranged.

  ‘It isn’t that. I can’t…’ she began. She may as well tell him the truth. He’d probably heard it all already anyway. The town grapevine had worked overtime on her back in the day.

  ‘She can’t commit to anything right now. It’s the record company, you see. Chances are she could be already signed up to support The Band Perry. No communication at all. You get me?’ Mia stated at a frantic pace.

  What? What had she just said?

  Jared nodded at Mia. He got it. Her friend was telling him what Honor wasn’t. She did want the chance but she was still too afraid to take it. She needed time. He could back off a little, but come tomorrow he’d only have six days left.

  She was looking at Mia with a mix of anger and confusion. He needed to leave it. This woman could be his ally.

  ‘Loud and clear, ma’am. I’m sorry for troublin’ you. I should have realized there’d be competition.’ He turned towards the door.

  ‘What? No, it isn’t like that. I have no idea what she’s talking about,’
Honor spoke, moving from behind the counter and toward him.

  He couldn’t go. He couldn’t leave thinking she’d had a better offer. If she was in a position to accept, then she would. But she wasn’t and she was pretty sure she never would be. She wasn’t even convinced she was going to be able to stand in a studio with a band, behind closed doors yet. She had that mountain to climb next week. What Simeon Stewart did hadn’t just scarred her face, it had wrecked her life. His name flickering through her mind quelled everything, gave it some perspective.

  ‘I’ll see you,’ he ended, pushing at the glass door.

  What should she do? He was leaving. She didn’t want him to leave. Did she?

  ‘I…if it goes OK in the studio I’ll…’ she began.

  He stopped in the doorway, turned to face her.

  ‘You’ll think about it?’ he finished for her.

  Her mouth was dry. What was she thinking? Thinking about thinking about it? It was crazy. She hadn’t even held a microphone in her hand since it had happened.

  ‘Say, we’re hitting One-Eyed Walt’s tonight if you’re in town,’ Mia broke in.

  ‘Really? Any occasion or just hangin’ out?’

  ‘Just hanging. A few beers, a few bands. Real casual,’ Mia continued.

  ‘Maybe I’ll see you.’ He nodded.

  Her lips were stuck together now, shaped into an uncomfortable smile she didn’t mean.

  He pushed open the door and it swung back as he went through it.

  ‘Holy crap, doll! I think he’s into you!’ Mia exclaimed.

  ‘He is not. Anyway I acted like a freaking idiot. What’s the matter with me?’ She took a length of hair and tightened it to her cheek.

  ‘Nothing’s the matter with you. You just need to get back on the horse. With music and men. If he looked at me like that I’d have torn the shirt off his back.’

  Honor watched through the glass. Jared got on his bike, fastened the helmet and started up the engine. The action mirrored what she felt. Right now her future had been kicked back into life. And if she was honest with herself, her heart was dying to join in.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘I’m still not sure about this.’

  Not being sure was about the biggest understatement she’d ever made. She’d caught sight of the Nash Trash bus and practically hyperventilated. She didn’t go downtown. She lived in a quiet suburb, she drove to work, she came home. That was it. Whenever Mia forced her out into the world she said no to the country bars, chose a diner on the edge of town, not on the strip, opting for pop over hillbilly. Country music was something she made in secret and something she only listened to in the store where it didn’t assault her every fiber. Until tonight.

  ‘Relax, doll. I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I mean it isn’t like I’m gonna pimp you out to the first karaoke bar I see. But, hold up, you do know how I get after bourbon.’ Mia laughed and pushed at the door of One-Eyed Walt’s.

  The bar was on the corner of the main strip and was almost untouched by time. There was no carpet, the bar stools were in the shape of saddles and rustic-looking Stetsons, stirrups, and sacks hung from the walls. It played a mixture of old-style country and country rock and always had two or three bands playing every night.

  Honor took a deep breath as she followed Mia into a booth. As her friend was wearing the shortest skirt Honor had ever seen, she had no concerns about being the center of anyone’s attention, but she ducked her head anyway and made sure her hair fell forward over her face. Despite the heavy foundation she’d covered her scar with, she knew the bar lights would be unforgiving.

  ‘See! How easy was that? And they must have known you were coming. Vince Gill,’ Mia said, raising her hand to indicate the audio.

  She’d never told Mia that Vince Gill records usually made her cry. She offered her friend a smile and turned her attention to the surroundings.

  Her last date with Jack Tully had been in One-Eyed Walt’s. They’d shared a plate of ribs, drank a pitcher of beer and held hands across the table to someone covering a Reba McEntire number. That was just a week before it had all fallen apart. Before the madman had ended her career. Before Jack had dumped her. Before she’d even met Mia. She looked at her best friend who was drumming her fingers on the table in time to the music. Mia didn’t know the half of what she’d been through.

  ‘So, what we drinking? Beer? Bourbon? Or my favorite…both!’

  ‘Just a beer,’ Honor replied.

  ‘And a chicken bucket and fries. I’m so hungry.’

  Within minutes a waitress had taken their order and Mia was checking out the male talent hanging round the bar engrossed in a baseball game on the big screen.

  ‘Nice tat on that guy. I love a phoenix. One guy I dated had a phoenix rising from the flames across his entire back,’ Mia commented.

  Honor’s mind went straight to the last tattoos she’d seen. Jed Marshall pulling up his t-shirt in the middle of the music store. The six-pack to die for.

  ‘So, what about him? For you? His cute friend.’ Mia was looking at her with such encouragement in her eyes, swirling her thumb around the top her of beer bottle.

  ‘Oh, Mia you promised me you wouldn’t do this.’ Honor sighed, putting her bottle to her mouth and drinking.

  ‘Do what? The only thing I promised not to do was make you sing…until I’m rendered incapable by alcohol. Then all bets are off.’

  ‘I said no pairing me up with friends of guys you want to hook up with.’

  ‘Was I cleaning the tambourines at the time?’

  Honor shook her head.

  ‘Where’s the harm, huh? He’s cute. He’s wearing a Stetson. You like them traditional,’ Mia continued.

  ‘Sure. He’s probably got his horse tied up outside. No.’ Honor ended.

  ‘Holding out for Jed Marshall?’

  The heat rose in her cheeks before she could do anything to counteract it. It was a ridiculous comment for Mia to make but there was no denying his presence did something to her. That in itself was something a man hadn’t done for a very long time.

  ‘You were the one drooling when he came into the store,’ Honor shot back.

  ‘And you were the only one he had eyes for.’

  ‘Shit!’ Honor exclaimed, turning her face to the wall.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Those guys are coming over!’ Honor brushed her hair down across her cheek. ‘This is the last time I ever come to a honky-tonk with you!

  Jared adjusted the towel tied around his waist with one hand and rubbed a second one over his cropped hair as he left the bathroom. His phone jumped and flashed on the nightstand. Wiping the water from his face he glanced at the display. Another voicemail from Buzz. That was the second in three hours. The first one he’d deleted. Buzz had promised him six days but he was still going on about signing the band from the UK, Raintown. He’d felt duty-bound to check them out on You Tube and they were good. In fact they were very good. But that didn’t change the fact he wanted Honor.

  He picked up his watch and strapped it to his wrist. Almost ten. Where’d the evening gone? The song he’d been working on just wasn’t coming together. He needed to get away from it for a while. He picked up his phone, ignoring the voicemail icon and flicked through his contacts. He pressed on a name and raised the phone to his ear.

  ‘Hey, Byron, it’s Jed. Are you doing anything, man? No? D’you wanna go downtown? Say thirty minutes. Yeah, One-Eyed Walt’s.’

  ‘I’ve not seen you here before. Are you new to town?’

  Honor hid her eyes behind the menu so she wasn’t seen rolling them. Eric and his buddy Wesley had invited themselves over to their booth and seemed to be enjoying every bit of flirtatious banter that fell from Mia’s lips. The question came from Eric and was directed at Mia, but Wesley’s eyes were firmly locked on Honor. Any second now she expected him to lick his lips like she was a tasty steak on the grill ready to eat.

  ‘No, honey, we’re actually part of th
e Nashville furniture. How about you?’ Mia flirted.

  ‘Moved here a little over a month ago,’ Eric elaborated. ‘Do you mind?’

  He indicated the seat next to Mia and she nodded and patted the fabric. Honor looked up at Wesley who had a desperate look in his eyes and was already starting to lower himself to scoot in next to her. She stood, grabbed her bottle up from the table and moved out.

  ‘I’ll get us some more drinks. Another round of beers?’ Honor offered. Unanimous noises of approval allowed her to leave for the bar.

  What was she doing here? Mia never went anywhere without chatting up guys. She should have known hooking up would be on the agenda.

  ‘Can I get another four beers please?’ she ordered from the barman.

  ‘Can you turn this one up, Walt?’ a guy at the bar shouted.

  Honor shook her head as Billy Ray Cyrus vibrated the speakers. This had been such a bad idea. She’d almost rather be listening again to the fifteen-minute long answer phone message Larry had left her earlier. She wouldn’t forget the slot at the studios. Garth from Micro Records would be there. The lead guitarist she’d always worked with couldn’t be there but they were going to find his best replacement and everything was going to be just swell.

  ‘Say, don’t I recognize you, honey?’

  The guy who’d asked for Billy Ray to be turned up flashed her a smile.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Honor responded. She smoothed her hair down over her cheek and turned her head a little.

  ‘Sure I do. You’ve been on the TV. You’re a singer,’ he continued, leaning in closer and adjusting his hat to get a better look.

  ‘No, sir. I think you must be mistaken.’

  All of a sudden she was terrified. She didn’t want to be recognized. She never got recognized anymore. It just didn’t happen. But it would happen. It would happen more and more if she released a new record. There wouldn’t be one guy in a bar. There would be hundreds of guys, thousands of guys. Women, children, t-shirts with her face on them. The memory of that night flashed in vivid color.