Dissonance

by Michele Shriver

  “So are you married?” Chase’s eyes darted to her left hand, which was ringless, exactly the way Kenzie wanted to keep it. She’d celebrated the day she removed Jesse’s ring, with a bottle of champagne and a pep talk in front of the mirror in which she reassured herself she didn’t need anyone and asserted her independence. After that, she’d flushed the ring down the toilet. Hopefully she hadn’t flushed her music career away along with it. Even if she had, it was worth it to be free of that horror show that others called a marriage.

  “Nope. Not married, either. Just not into dating,” Kenzie said. “Is that a problem for you?”

  “No problem, no.” Chase gave a casual shrug and rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t come to Tennessee looking to score. This is a business trip for me. An opportunity was presented to me, and I have to evaluate it. Is this something that can help me further my career, or help me grow as a musician? It’s really as simple as that.”

  Some would probably interpret his statement as arrogant, and maybe it was, but Kenzie was relieved. If he wasn’t interested in getting into her pants, this would all be so much easier. Assuming she could ignore her attraction to him. That might be the hardest part. “It’s simple for me, too. So with that out of the way, let’s go find some food and try to figure out whether this is something that’s going to work for us.” She grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder. “I’m guessing this is your first time here, so I’ll have to pick the restaurant. What do you like to eat?”

  “Food,” Chase answered. “I like food. Real food.” His eyes scanned her body. “Is that something you can handle, or are you one of those salad and veggie kind of girls?”

  He didn’t even bother to disguise the fact that he was checking her out, but she couldn’t be sure whether he liked what he saw or not. Either way, Kenzie didn’t care. She no longer had Jesse harping on her appearance, or any little weight she might gain. And as hot as Chase Radcliffe might be, he wasn’t boyfriend material and never would be. That made it all a lot easier. “I like food, too,” Kenzie said. “And I like it spicy.” She tilted her head to meet his eyes, which were a grayish blue. “So how about you, Cowboy? Can you handle a little heat?”

  ***

  Could he handle some heat? Oh, yeah. It just depended on whether she meant herself or the food. Either way, Chase was grateful for slightly baggy jeans to hopefully conceal the growing interest down below. Kenzie might not date, and he might only be here on business, but his penis apparently didn’t get the memo.

  Okay, she wasn’t a lesbian. They’d established that. So what was she? A freaking cock tease, flirting openly, but never putting out? Or was there something else going on? Either way, Chase was intrigued, and he had the start of a hard on to prove it.

  He jammed his hands in his pockets, trying to subtly adjust things down there so it wasn’t so obvious. His T-shirt came untucked, helping to disguise his problem. Good. Better. Maybe she wouldn’t even notice he was getting a boner. “I have no problem with heat,” Chase said. “The hotter the better, in fact. Where are you taking me, darlin’?” Maybe he shouldn’t flirt, given her prohibition on dating and the fact that this was a business trip. Then again, hadn’t she started it?

  “To Hattie B’s,” Kenzie declared. “So we’ll see how much heat you can handle, big boy.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  She was playing with him now, that much was obvious, and Chase tried to ignore it. This was business. Nothing else. They’d talk, realize they’d never mesh together musically, decide the whole idea of recording together was a bad one, and Chase would be on his way back to New England, content to write new music and wait for Jordy to be ready to record again. He didn’t need Kenzie or Keith or this crazy alternative country idea. Not at all.

  Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. Since a cold shower wasn’t an option, Chase tried every other method he knew to will his erection down as they walked the few blocks from Keith’s office to the chicken place. Chicken. She’d been talking about fucking fried chicken, and he’d gotten aroused. Pathetic. He could thank a long dry spell and Lisanne Ward for that. Now there was a cock tease if Chase ever knew one. She’d also be the last time he let anyone in his pretentious family try to set him up with a date. No, he’d find his own women from now on.

  His eyes drifted to Kenzie’s ass as she walked slightly ahead of him. She wore a blue shirt dress that perfectly hugged her curves—which were ample—and fell just above her knee. It was paired with blue cowboy boots, which Chase figured were part of the official uniform in the Music City. Either way, the fashion statement worked for her, and worked very well. Whatever the reason for her prohibitions on dating, it was unfortunate for mankind.

  “We’re here.” Kenzie stopped in front of a nondescript building. “Welcome to Hattie B’s Hot Chicken,” she announced, as if the destination was part of a local tour and she was the guide.

  “Great,” Chase said. He reached to grab the door handle before she could, and pulled it open. “After you, ma’am.”

  She looked up at him with a smile. “Are you sure you’re not from the South, with manners like that?”

  “Nope. New England, born and bred.” Chase said, following her into the restaurant. “My mother taught me well, though, I guess.” And all because she hoped he’d marry a cold fish like Lisanne, who came from a supposedly proper family and therefore would make a good doctor’s wife. Yeah, nice try, Mom, but I want a woman who’s not afraid to scream for me when I touch her, not shrivel up and retreat. Was Kenzie a screamer? Did she like to be pleasured? Best not to go there, unless Chase wanted his little problem to reappear.

  They made their way to a table in the corner, and Chase scanned the menu posted above the counter. It was pretty straightforward, with chicken, lots of chicken, breasts, thighs, wings and tenders, and various degrees of heat, from Southern—no heat—to something called ‘Shut the Cluck Up!’

  “Are you a breast man?” Kenzie asked. She gave him an innocent smile, as if it wasn’t a loaded question at all.

  To hell with the chicken. Could anything be hotter than this woman?

  “Yes,” Chase answered without hesitation. “I love a good breast. And thighs, legs, all of it, really.” He stole another glance at the menu board. “I’ll take the half bird.” Now he just needed to decide on a heat level. He’d said he could handle some heat, so he couldn’t be a wimp, but he didn’t want to kill himself, either. “And I’ll make her a hot one.”

  “Just hot?” Kenzie’s hazel eyes danced with amusement. “If you say so. I’ll go with the tenders, but I prefer mine to be damn hot.”

  It described her as well as her taste in chicken, and Chase almost changed his mind for the spiciest option, but that was probably stupid. If it was too hot to eat, which he suspected it would be, what did he prove? Nothing. He’d just look like an idiot.

  They discussed sides and drink options, and Chase learned Kenzie liked French fries, macaroni and cheese and craft beer, which pretty much could make her his dream girl, if not for her ban on dating. Whatever that was about. He approached the counter to order the food and contemplated the decision he’d soon have to make. Should he agree to this project because the producer’s idea was intriguing to him, and Kenzie even more so, or would it be better to decline it outright because he already might be too interested in her?

  Chase placed their order and made his way back to the table with two beers. It was a local label, something he’d never tried before, so he was taking her word that it would be good, or at least drinkable. “Here you go,” he said, setting one bottle in front of her before sitting down.

  “Thanks.”

  He took a drink, finding it mildly hopped with a smooth finish. Exactly the way he preferred his beer. Chase nodded his approval. “Nice.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “So I guess you must really like food and beer, huh?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kenzie’s tone
took on a defensive edge. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

  “Fat?” What the hell? Where did that come from? Chase tried to figure out where he’d gone wrong. “Hell, no. I’m not saying that at all. I think you’re beautiful.” Hadn’t he fought to get a hard on under control, all the while checking out her ass? Christ, his cousin was right. He really was bad with women. “I just meant that you seem to know the menu here, and were able to make a beer recommendation as well, both of which I think are great qualities in a woman, by the way. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Kenzie said. “I didn’t mean to sound defensive. I just... forget it. Never mind.”

  Chase arched a brow. Something was on her mind, for sure. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Kenzie shook her head. “I said to forget it. Tell me about yourself. Did you really go to Dartmouth?”

  It was an obvious change of subject, and Chase wondered how much Carey had already told her. “I sure did,” he said. “I was supposed to become a doctor.”

  ***

  A doctor? This guy really was a study in contrast. “Okay, go on,” Kenzie urged. Anything to change the subject off of her food habits. The last thing she wanted was for Chase to find out she’d once suffered from an eating disorder. He’d decide she was a head case for sure, and probably be on the next plane home. And Kenzie needed this gig.

  Chase shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. My dad’s a doctor. So’s my uncle. So’s my cousin. It’s what Radcliffe men do.” He took a swallow of beer. “Except me. I decided to be different. I’ve always liked music. I enjoy writing lyrics. Singing and playing the guitar relax me. So I decided to put together a band with my best friend and a couple of other guys. At first, it was only supposed to be a hobby. We’d play gigs in the bars near campus. I never expected it to turn into much of anything, and certainly not a career, then one day Carey was in the audience at one of our shows. He approached us after the set, told us he liked our sound and wanted to see what he could for us.”

  “And the rest is history?”

  “Something like that, yeah.” Chase gave her a half-smile. “It turns out what he could do for us was quite a lot. I didn’t anticipate the kind of success we’ve had, at least not so fast. Sometimes I worry that we hit lightning in a bottle and it’s not going to be sustainable.”

  “I know that feeling.” All too well. It had been so long since Kenzie’s last hit that she knew the rumbling and speculation had started around town. Did she truly have any talent of her own, or was she simply the product of Jesse’s magic? He’d messed with her head enough that Kenzie was no longer sure herself, but she was determined to prove she did have talent and she was a singer to be reckoned with. She could find success without Jesse. What Kenzie didn’t want, though, was to be accused of riding on Chase’s coattails, or anyone else’s. Sometimes she hated this business. “Carey is a great manager, though.”

  “Yeah, he is,” Chase agreed. “You said you worked with someone else before?”

  “For a few years. It was time for a change, though.” Kenzie hoped he’d leave things at that, and was happy when their number was called for the food order. “I guess that’s us.”

  “Yeah. Hold the thought,” Chase said before heading to the counter to retrieve their order.

  Damn it. She didn’t want to hold the thought. In fact, she wanted to forget all about it and she hoped Chase would get so caught up in the chicken that he forgot, too. He was back in a minute with a heaping tray of hot food, which he set on the table.

  “This looks great,” he said.

  “It tastes great, too. Just make sure you’ve got your beer handy to wash down some of the heat.”

  “Oh, you think I’m a lightweight, huh?” His eyes danced with amusement. “We’ll see about that.”

  Kenzie chuckled. “Yeah, we will.” She picked up one of her chicken tenders and took a bite. It stung, for sure, but she didn’t flinch. She was a Hattie B’s veteran, and she sure wasn’t about to risk Chase thinking she couldn’t handle her heat. She took a swallow of beer and waited for his reaction.

  “Shit. Oh, shit.” His eyes grew wide and he grabbed his beer gulping it fast. “Holy crap, this is only the third heat level? And yours is hotter?”

  Kenzie stifled laughter. It wouldn’t be proper to tease him. After all, he wasn’t from the South. And his eyes were watering, poor guy. “Yep. Would you like to try it?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t want to feel the burn when I take a piss.”

  “Okay, just checking.” She smiled. “I tried to warn you.”

  Chase nodded. “Yes, you did. Anyway, I’m fine now.” As if to prove it, he took another, much smaller bite. “We were talking about you having another manager before Carey,” he said. “So come on, tell me your story. How’d you get your start?”

  Damn it. He hadn’t forgotten. “There’s not much to tell. I was a cheerleader at Vanderbilt, and I waited tables in a bar not far from campus on the weekends,” Kenzie said.

  “A cheerleader, huh?” Chase’s lips turned up in a smile.

  “Yes. Does that bother you?” She wondered if he thought she was dumb. After all, he was an Ivy Leaguer and supposed to be a doctor.

  “No way. I like cheerleaders,” was all he said. “Go on.”

  Do I have to? “One night, they had an open mic night and one of my colleagues persuaded me to go up there and give it a shot. I thought she was crazy, but I’d always kind of liked to sing, so I went for it. It turns out Jesse Cole was in the audience that night. He came up to me afterward and told me he could make me a star.”

  Kenzie closed her eyes for a second, hoping it might block out the memory. As if. She’d never forget Jesse’s sweet talking, nor his sexy smile and his promise to make all of her dreams come true. For a brief time, it seemed like he would do exactly that. Then it all turned into a nightmare.

  “And I guess he did,” Chase said. “So what happened? Why the switch to Carey?”

  Because I wanted my life back. I wanted to be me again. Not some asshole’s idea of what the perfect woman looked like. “Creative differences,” Kenzie said, using the standard industry line. “I wanted to go in a different direction with my career.” It was true enough, anyway. “Carey came highly recommended.”

  Chase nodded. “Carey knows his stuff.”

  “He seems to, yes,” Kenzie said, relieved that Chase hadn’t pressed her for a lot of details about Jesse. He came from outside the Nashville circle, way outside, so he probably didn’t even know who Jesse was. Lucky him.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes before Kenzie asked, “Is there somewhere you want to go after this? I can show you around Nashville, if you’d like.”

  Chase wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Sure, maybe. First, I want to hear some of your music, though, and I can play you some of my stuff.”

  “You can download all of my music online,” Kenzie told him.

  “Sure, I know that. But I won’t know the story behind the songs if I do that. I want you to show me the ones that mean the most to you. I think that’s the best way to learn about each other, and we have to decide pretty quick whether we want this gig or not.”

  Kenzie had already made up her mind. She wanted this gig. She needed it. Hopefully she could convince Chase that he did, too. “Okay. I don’t live too far from here, if you don’t mind going there. Let’s see if we can make music together.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  What was he doing? This whole thing had already gone too far and on too long. He was supposed to be on a plane back home by now, or at least at the airport waiting to board one. Instead, Chase stood in Kenzie’s downtown brownstone, complete with exposed brick and ventilation ducts, checking out the space. It was decorated simply, but stylishly, and Chase wondered what she could do with his own place. His cousin’s wife was always telling him it needed a woman’s touch, and saying Chase needed to let go of the “Distressed fratboy” style, whatever the hell that
meant.

  “I work up here,” Kenzie said, leading him up the stairs to a loft area which housed a bed and assorted musical instruments.

  One in particular caught Chase’s eye. “You play the ukelele?”

  “Sometimes, yeah. Is that weird?”

  “No. I think it’s cool.” It was hard not to be impressed, and he picked it up and strummed a few chords. “I love the uke. I’ve been trying to find a way to incorporate it into a song, but my band mates think I’m crazy.”

  Kenzie cocked her head to the side. “Maybe you need to find new band mates.”

  Or at least a new temporary project? “Nah. They’re great guys and good friends. I just sometimes like to push the creative envelope a little more than they do.” Chase set the ukelele down. “Anyway, you were going to play some of your music for me?”

  “You make it sound like an audition,” Kenzie said with a laugh.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to. I do need to hear you, though, to decide if this is all going to work out.”

  “I know. I’m just kidding.” Kenzie set her iPod into a sound dock speaker system. “This was my biggest hit. It’s called Honky Tonk Night. It won an ACM award for record of the year.”

  The way she said it didn’t sound like boasting. No, it was almost like she wasn’t that impressed herself with the accomplishment, which didn’t make sense to Chase. Even with all of A New Horizon’s success, he’d never won a major music award, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care if he did. He moved closer to the speaker as the song began to play.

  Kenzie could sing, that was for sure. She hit all the right notes, and she sounded upbeat and perky. If Chase had to pick a word to describe her voice, as she sang about line dancing and two-stepping and hot cowboys in Wrangler jeans, though, it would be “honeyed.” It sounded pleasant enough, and he could see how it became a country hit that people loved to dance to, but the song lacked a certain sincerity. Where was the feeling? Where was the heart? The soul? Sure, a good dance beat and catchy melody were nice, but Chase wanted to feel something, too. And listening to this song, he didn’t.