Six String Sass

by Leigh Landry

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Cajun Two-Step Novellas

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Contents

  Copyright

  Cajun Two-Step Novellas

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  Cajun Two-Step Novellas

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  SIX STRING SASS by Leigh Landry

  Published by Leigh Landry

  Lafayette, LA, USA

  © 2018 Leigh Landry

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Edited by Mackenzie Walton

  Cover Photography from Depositphotos.com

  Cajun Two-Step Novellas

  Second Fiddle Flirt

  Six String Sass

  Rim Shot Rebound

  (2018)

  Novella #4

  (2018)

  Chapter One

  Natalie propped her guitar on its stand and stepped over broken strings of plastic beads as she looked around the convention center ballroom. Her bandmates were gathered around a small table, enjoying their post-gig meal of free buffet leftovers before the staff packed everything up.

  Well, most of her bandmates.

  Natalie decided to make a path along the perimeter of the room instead of cutting through the dance floor. If she couldn’t have her best friend there, she could at least saunter past the delicious scruffy-blond sound guy Robin had hired for the night.

  “Nice set,” he said when she slowed in front of his rig.

  “Thanks. Not so bad yourself.” She ran her fingers through her long, dirty-blonde hair and flashed him a wink. Then she continued on her way, straightening her back as she walked, to give him a nice view of her best asset in her tightest jeans.

  If there was one thing Nat knew how to do, it was how to leave her fans wanting more.

  “Natalie Romero, don’t you dare.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Robin, their accordion player and band founder, and sat in the empty folding chair beside their drummer, Kelsey. After Natalie picked a piece of fried catfish from Kelsey’s plate and stuffed it in her mouth, she muffled, “What did I do this time?”

  “Nothing yet.” Robin narrowed her eyes right back. “Don’t you mess this up. He’s good. And cheap. And we need him again for the Mardi Gras fair next Friday.”

  Natalie rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll fuck him after Friday. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic.” Robin ate a forkful of crawfish fettuccine.

  After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Kelsey cleared her throat. “Nice job tonight, Lauren.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren’s voice crackled with hesitance.

  Natalie had to admit it took guts for that girl to come back and claim the rest of her audition like she’d done, but the world was gonna roll over that one. If it hadn’t already.

  The new fiddle player had held her own during the performance, despite all the shit Natalie had given her over the past few weeks. Natalie was still the only one who refused to call the girl by her name. She was no more than a stray cat, as far as Natalie was concerned, and you sure as hell shouldn’t name those if you don’t want them sticking around.

  Natalie grunted softly and immediately felt Kelsey’s foot on top of hers. A dangerous move for anyone else, but with Camille gone, Natalie had to admit Kelsey was the only thing she had left that came even close to counting as a friendship.

  “So when are we gonna meet this new guy of yours?” Kelsey asked. “What’s his name again?”

  “Tyler.” Lauren blushed. “At some point, I’m sure.”

  “He’s welcome to come to rehearsals any time,” Robin chimed in between bites.

  Natalie was really glad she hadn’t grabbed a plate of food, even though she hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch and it was damn near midnight by now. But with all this talk about Lauren and rehearsals with no mention at all of Camille coming back any day now, Natalie had lost her appetite.

  Not that Kelsey was wrong. The girl had done a decent job on fiddle, especially considering it was only her second gig playing with them. But Camille would be out of rehab in a few days, and she was going to expect her spot back.

  Natalie had known Camille for almost ten years. Camille was coming back. So someone needed to tell their new fiddle player not to get comfortable.

  “Speaking of guys,” Natalie said. “Where’s Eric?”

  Kelsey looked down at her plate. Robin frowned.

  Fuck.

  The new girl caught Natalie’s eye and gestured with her head to the other side of the room. When Natalie turned around, she saw tall, dark, and dickheaded Eric propped against a wall, smooth-talking a brunette in a short, purple cocktail dress.

  “Leave it to Eric to find a straight girl in the middle of a gay krewe’s ball.” Natalie tilted her head at the girl with Eric. “Unless she’s not straight. She is cute…”

  “She’s the sister of one of the captains.” Kelsey’s voice was small and strained, not a hint of her usual lightness. Natalie wanted to drag that clueless jerk back to their table and shake some sense into him.

  “Eh. He’ll forget about her by tomorrow,” she said.

  Kelsey shook her head and dropped her plastic fork on her abandoned plate, then pushed it away from her. “They dated in high school. For two years.”

  Damn it.

  Natalie looked away from Kelsey and twisted around for another look at Eric and the other girl. Her hand was already in his.

  “Come on.” Natalie pushed her chair away from the table. “Let’s go tear down your kit and get out of here.”

  Kelsey nodded and stood, while Natalie put an arm casually around her shoulder to guide her back to their setup. Thankfully, Eric was no longer standing near that wall. Unfortunately, his hot new thing was also missing, but at least Kelsey wouldn’t have to watch them flirt anymore.

  Natalie went to work, unscrewing cymbals and folding stands, while Kelsey packed up her drums like they each weighed a thousand pounds. Natalie considered accidentally kicking Eric’s bass over, but then they’d need a new bass player. Again.

  Anything had to be better than watching Kelsey go through this agony every few weeks. She and Eric agreed they weren’t good together a long time ago, but that didn’t make it any easier on poor Kelsey, who had to watch him flirt with rich, beautiful women at every fundraiser and private party they played.

  “I’m gonna pull up my car to the door,” Kelsey said.

  “All right.” Natalie continued to fold stands and contemplate ways to torture Eric. It wasn’t entirely his fault Kelsey was hurting. But seriously, the guy could flash that smile and get a date lined up anywhere he went. Why
did he have to do it on their gigs?

  She set another stand on the floor in line with the others and caught sight of the new sound guy tearing down his own gear. He caught her looking, and she gave him a wave. Nothing wrong with her finding a little action on a gig. Although she did promise Robin she wouldn’t chase him off.

  Natalie paused, squatting beside the line of stands, and took another look at the guy, admiring his strong arms as he moved equipment around. He might be worth the wait. A week wouldn’t kill her.

  Not like she had time for any extracurricular activities lately anyway. Her life was basically work and gigs and her daughter. No room for much else. That was probably why she missed Camille so much. Or at least one reason. Camille had already been woven into those bits of Natalie’s life. No need to make room between the cracks.

  “Hey, Nat, I need to talk to you!” Robin shouted as she walked across the room to meet Natalie.

  Robin never talked to Natalie alone. Not if she could help it. They had a mutual respect between them as musicians, and they mostly gave a shit about each other, but they were more like uncomfortable relatives than friends. Natalie couldn’t imagine what Robin could possibly want to talk about.

  Natalie stood and brushed her hair out of her face, pulling it over one shoulder. “I told you, I’ll leave him alone for the week.”

  Robin stopped beside her and shook her head. “Not about that.” She pulled two long, white envelopes from her back jeans pocket and held them fanned out to Natalie. “She wanted me to give this to you.”

  “Who?” Natalie recognized Robin’s handwriting on the top envelope. Her cut of their payment for the night. She had no idea what the second envelope could be.

  Once she saw her name in that familiar, delicate handwriting with the little curvy line-doodle underneath it, she knew immediately who it was from.

  “When did you get that?” Natalie snapped. “I thought she couldn’t have visitors her last few days.”

  Robin was quiet for a moment. Natalie could see her chewing on the inside of her mouth. She always did that when she was nervous.

  “Robin.” Natalie strained to keep her voice steady. “When did you get that?”

  “This afternoon.” Robin chewed some more and waved the envelope. When Natalie didn’t take it, she added, “She stopped by the house and asked me to give it to you.”

  “She’s…out?” Natalie’s voice wobbled and her head spun.

  Why didn’t Camille tell her she was out early? And why would she go to Robin’s and not bring this to Natalie herself?

  Unless…

  “She lied to me,” Natalie realized. “About her discharge date. She lied.”

  “I don’t know what she told you, or what’s in this.” Robin sighed.

  Natalie could see the weight that Camille’s task had put on her. Robin clearly didn’t want to be Camille’s delivery person any more than Natalie wanted to be on the receiving end of that envelope.

  “All she told me is she’s leaving town for a while. Didn’t say where.” Robin waved the envelope once more. “I’m sorry, Nat. I wish like hell she’d told you this herself.”

  Robin was almost a full head shorter, but in that moment, Natalie felt smaller. Like the whole world was pressing down on her, and she was melting into the convention center floor.

  Natalie finally took the envelope and ran her fingers over the ink spelling out her name. Then she tucked it, unopened, inside her guitar bag and headed for the door.

  “Nat,” Robin called after her.

  “Going to help Kelsey bring in cases.”

  “Nat,” Robin said, even louder. “If you want to—”

  “I’m fine.”

  Natalie blinked back the hurt and stormed off toward the side door, anything but fine.

  * * * * *

  Shane wound up the last of the cables, while he waited for the band’s drummer to load so he could back his own truck up to the door. He considered offering to help the two women load the drum set. He’d had a long day at work before even starting this gig, so helping them would get him out of there and on his way to sleep faster. His apartment might be empty, except for the kitten one of his coworkers had found crying near the dumpster at work earlier that week, but it was warm and quiet and his bed was soft.

  Unfortunately, the guitar player looked like she was just waiting for someone to unleash hell on. Shane wasn’t about to intentionally put himself in the path of someone aiming to breathe fire.

  “Hey, thanks a lot for tonight.” The bandleader, Robin, handed him an envelope with his name on it. “I know it was short notice, but we didn’t realize we’d need equipment here, and the person who used to run sound isn’t around right now.”

  The band had called the music store Shane worked at looking for help earlier in the week. Since the krewe hiring them had also hired a DJ to play dance music in between short sets, all he had to do was make sure the band sounded decent in the echo chamber of a ballroom they were set up in. He was glad to pick up an extra gig, especially an easy one that paid well.

  He took his payment envelope and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. “Thanks. No problem.”

  “You still good with next Friday?”

  “Yeah,” he said, his eyes trailing to a certain fire-breathing blonde with a great ass carrying a couple of drum stands toward the door. “Absolutely.”

  When he pulled his eyes away, Robin was staring at him with a disapproving frown settled deep into her face. “She just got some bad news,” she said. “I’d keep my eyes to myself for now, if I was you.”

  He nodded in understanding, but he couldn’t help glancing back as the blonde stormed in again for another round of equipment. He could practically see the steam rising from her. “I pity the messenger.”

  Robin chuckled. “I’m still alive so far. She’ll forgive me eventually.”

  “I hope so.” He decided to keep the rest of his thoughts on the matter to himself. Robin probably didn’t deserve the blonde’s wrath, but whoever did…he couldn’t imagine they were ever going to earn her forgiveness. Not that forgiveness was always worth the cost. Not in his experience, anyway.

  When the drummer drove off a few minutes later, Shane replaced her car with his truck near the exit. He loaded all of his sound equipment and secured everything in the back. As he walked around to the driver’s door, he saw the guitar player sitting on ground, her back against the convention center wall and her guitar case on the ground beside her.

  He should have driven off. He was wiped out and the last thing he needed was to stick his nose in this woman’s problems. A smarter man definitely would have left and not looked back.

  But the smart decision wasn’t necessarily the right one. He couldn’t leave a distressed woman alone and potentially stranded in the middle of a cold February night.

  Especially when the distressed woman was a cute blonde with a great ass.

  “You all right?” he asked when he got a little closer. Not too close. He wasn’t actually convinced she couldn’t breathe fire.

  She raised her head. Her eyes were glassy and her face was flushed, from both the cutting night air and from her anger, if he had to guess. She took him in, head to toe, then looked back out at the parking lot. “Yeah. Peachy.”

  “You need a ride or something?”

  She let out a sarcastic, defeated laugh. “Or something.”

  The way she slurred made him think she must be drunk. Somehow she’d gotten herself good and trashed in the short time it took him to load his own equipment.

  Shane slid down the wall to sit beside her.

  Really, not the smartest move. This woman clearly had issues. Enough that Robin felt he needed a warning. And there he was, ignoring that warning and getting involved in her drama. Like he hadn’t had enough of that already to last a lifetime.

  But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave her alone out here like that.

  “Nice playing tonight.”

  “What do you
know?” she snarled. Her venom had a lot less sting to it than it probably had half an hour ago. She sounded sad and broken now.

  “I used to play guitar. Not professionally or anything, though,” he said. “You’re good.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, hesitantly. “Why used to?”

  He shrugged. “Life. And stuff.”

  She lifted a plastic cup of dark liquid that was sitting on the other side of her. “I know about that.”

  When she took a sip, he asked, “You sure you need more of that?”

  She shot eye daggers at him, and took a defiant gulp. “It’s just Coke.”

  Shane frowned. “Could have fooled me.”

  She laughed. He could see now that while she was a little buzzed, she was more tired than drunk. By his estimate, she was about three minutes from a complete meltdown.

  No way he could leave her out here now.

  “I begged the bartender for a shot before he shut down.” She raised her glass to him. “And a Coke.”

  “Just one shot, huh?”

  “Two.” She chomped on a piece of ice. “I downed two shots of bourbon, then came out here to wallow. Except some nosy jackass won’t let me wallow in peace.”

  “What a jerk,” Shane said.

  “I know, right?” She laughed again. It was deep and rich, and the most beautiful laugh he’d ever heard.

  “You want me to get someone else from the band?”

  “Good Lord, no! I’d rather the jackass,” she said. “Well, I’d rather be alone, but I’ll take you over anyone else left in there.”

  Her eyes caught his as she said “take you” and he shifted, growing warm under her gaze.

  Shit.

  “Then how about you let this jackass give you a ride home?”

  She swatted at the air between them in dismissal. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  “Did you eat anything?”

  She shivered and frowned. “No.”

  “Listen, it’s cold and I have a warm truck. Let me take you to get some food, then I’ll bring you back to your car.”