Girl on Tour (Kylie Ryans)

by Caisey Quinn

  What about all of the other unfair comments?

  “Okay. I shouldn’t have accused you of the things I accused you of. So I guess we’re even.” Kylie stared at her, waiting for the fallout. The ‘but I still hate you for breathing’ part.

  “So um, anyways…I was going to head into town, stop by my apartment, and maybe grab—”

  “Hey, can I come with? I have a pit stop to make downtown.”

  Mia’s brow furrowed. She probably doesn’t want me to know where she lives. Not that Kylie could really blame her since she had technically threatened her with violence. “I guess. You ready now?”

  Kylie nodded. She’d just gotten her first shower in two days since Lily had finally come out of the bathroom. She was past ready.

  WHEN the two of them arrived at the corporate offices of BackRoom Records, Mia freaked. Rightly so. “Are you insane? This isn’t the time or place to make a scene, Oklahoma.”

  “We’re not going to make a scene, Mia. We’re just going to talk to him. Relax.”

  The girl sighed as she walked through the door Kylie held open. “Okay, but for the record, this was your idea and I just came along in case you got arrested.”

  “Fine.” The two girls rode the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor. When they stepped out into the immaculate reception area, Mia let out a low whistle.

  Kylie stepped up to the blonde at the reception desk, trying her best not to be intimidated by the impressive office area. “Kylie Ryans, here to see Donovan Taite.”

  The woman barely looked up. “Is he expecting you?”

  “Probably not,” Kylie said with a shrug. “But it’s important. It’s about his daughter.”

  “Have a seat,” the woman said, eyeing Kylie’s jeans and tattered Rum Room T-shirt. She knew she probably looked like a waitress, but oh the hell well. Five minutes ago she was a waitress, dammit. No shame in her game. Blondie could deal.

  “Actually I need to see him immediately. We have a performance tonight that we can’t be late for. What I have to say won’t take long.” She was probably only staying long enough for Mr. Taite to call security anyways.

  The receptionist narrowed her eyes. “Miss Ryans, was it?”

  Kylie nodded.

  “Mr. Taite has an extremely high profile client list. He’s a very busy man, and while I’m sure he can hardly wait to hear what you have to say, anyone wanting to see him makes an appointment.”

  “I see. Well, how about you just do me a favor and do your one job and press that intercom button to let him know I’m here to speak with him about his daughter. Lily. Might want to use her name incase he’s forgotten it. If he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll go.” Lord, please don’t strike me down for lyin’.

  The woman glared so hard that Mia took a step back. But Kylie stayed rooted where she stood, the image of Lily clutching her phone like a live grenade still fresh in her mind.

  The two of them watched as the woman pressed the intercom button and informed the almighty Mr. Taite that a Miss. Ryans was here to see him about his daughter. There was a brief pause before he said, “Send her on back, Julie.”

  The receptionist jerked her head towards a door at the end of the hall.

  “Thanks so much, Julie,” Kylie drawled, pulling Mia along with her.

  “You have a real way with people, you know that?” Mia huffed under her breath.

  “It’s a gift,” Kylie answered. Her hands began to tremble. Lily’s drunken voice blabbering about her daddy not caring about her, about her not being good enough, about trying so hard to make him proud, to make him notice, was on a steady loop playing through her head. Mia hadn’t seen anything yet.

  She jerked the heavy mahogany door open and Mia followed close behind. Donovan Taite looked up from his desk. He was handsome for a guy probably in his late forties or early fifties. Not that it mattered.

  “Mr. Taite,” Kylie said as she marched up to his desk. “I’m Kylie Ryans and this is Mia Montgomery. We’re currently on tour with your daughter—”

  “Ryans? The waitress? The one shacking up with Trace Corbin as he goes down in flames?” His forehead wrinkled as he looked up at her.

  Well, now she really hated him. “No, sir.” She forced her best smile. “Ryans, the one who is soon to be topping the charts over all of your clients. Ryans, the one who worked her ass off to get here. And for today, Mr. Taite, Ryans, the one who’s about to give you a detailed description of what your sorry-ass excuse for parenting skills are doing to your daughter.” Whew. Kylie exhaled. It felt good to get that out of the way.

  Mr. Taite raised a brow. “My daughter?”

  “Yeah, you know. She’s about five two, blond, sixteen, and touring around the country instead of being in high school. We call her Lily, but you obviously can’t be bothered to call her at all.” Adrenaline pumped hard and fast through her body. She prayed she wasn’t shaking visibly.

  At that, Donovan Taite stood. Jesus, he was tall. And had a huge booming voice to match. “Now wait just a damned minute—”

  “No, Mr. Taite, you wait a damned minute. For two months we’ve watched her call you, only to be told you’re too busy to talk. Watched her sit in front of the computer, waiting for Skype dates that never happened. And if you really want to know—we’ve also watched her drink herself into oblivion while blubbering like a baby about a daddy who doesn’t think she’s good enough to be his daughter.”

  The man opened his mouth to speak but Kylie wasn’t done. “And for the record, she’s pretty damned talented, despite the fact that she’s really just in the music business to get your attention. Not that you would know. Or care.”

  “Easy, Oklahoma,” Mia whispered from behind her. “Maybe take it down a notch.”

  The man eyed her up and down. “I didn’t know you were part of the tour Lily was on. Certainly if I’d known she was associating with a girl like you, I would’ve reconsidered allowing her to go.”

  By a girl like you he meant trash. Kylie could see in his eyes that was how he perceived her. Fine by her. He was nothing but a grade A asshole in a suit as far as she was concerned. “Well how the hell would you know who she’s on tour with? You can’t be bothered to take five minutes out of your busy schedule to see her perform.”

  He sat back down as if he’d grown bored with the whole thing. “Miss Ryans, I think that’s about enough. Please let yourself out so I don’t have to call security.”

  Mia tugged at her arm but Kylie didn’t move. “Did you go to California to see your son play soccer?”

  “Excuse me? What I do is none of your—”

  Kylie raised her voice. “Did you or didn’t you? I’m not leaving until you answer.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And if I did?”

  This was it. She’d bet he’d already hit a button somewhere alerting security. “Then you are an even bigger ass than I suspected. Because Lily deserves a father who’d go to the ends of the Earth to see her perform. And obviously you’re not actually too busy for shit. You’re just a sorry excuse for a daddy. I would know. I had one that would’ve moved Heaven and Earth to see me up on stage. But he died before getting that chance. And here you are. Alive and well. And how many shows of Lily’s have you been to?”

  “Miss Ryans, you will leave my office right this minute if you know what’s good for you.”

  “How many?” she demanded.

  “Miss Montgomery, I suggest you take your friend and—”

  “How. Fucking. Many? Answer the question and I’ll go.”

  His jaw ticked as he stood again. “You’ve made your point, now—”

  “Just say it! Just admit that you haven’t made it to a single show, that you haven’t bothered to show your face a single solitary time to tell Lily she did a good job, or that you’re proud of her and you love her. It’s the truth, right?”

  “Get out.” Donovan Taite spoke through his teeth and livid hate burned from his eyes. Kylie took a deep breath. It was time to go. She could
see that. But at least she’d tried.

  “I’m going.” Mia tugged her arm again, but Kylie jerked out of her reach. “Here.” She slammed two tickets down on his desk. One was to the CMA festival in an hour and the other was for the Chameleon Café in Atlanta where their next show was. “I’ll be expecting to see you at one or both of these, acting like Father of the Fucking Year. Bring flowers.”

  His eyes widened as Kylie glared at him.

  “One more thing before I go. I’ve known Lily for a few months. You’ve known her for her whole life. Which one of us is acting like they actually give a shit about her right now?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head. And with that, she stormed out of his office in the same whirlwind fashion she’d blown into it.

  “Holy hell,” Mia said under her breath as they exited the reception area. “You might’ve just ended both of our careers, thank you very much.”

  “Yeah, you were a lot of help back there. ‘Preciate it.”

  The elevator dinged and the two girls stepped on as soon as the doors were open. “Looked like you had it under control.”

  THE temporary ceasefire on Mia’s hatred of her ended later that afternoon. She sat on her bed, jotting down a few lyrics about what a wonderful man her father had been. She was trying to wrap a few of the sayings he was always reminding her of into a chorus when the door flew open so hard it nearly popped off the track.

  She looked up from her notebook. Mia stood there, eyes blazing—red, as if she’d been crying. Her chest heaved and she clutched her phone in her hand. Kylie wondered if she should grab a pillow since Mia looked damn near ready to chuck it at her head.

  “Mia?”

  “He said my name today. Did you notice that?” Mia took a step inside the room.

  She was practically vibrating with rage. Jesus. “Who said your name? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Donovan Taite. Donovan Taite knew my name even though you didn’t give me two seconds to introduce myself. Care to know why that was?”

  Kylie took a deep breath to calm the nerves Mia was riling up. “Um, because I told him who you were?”

  “He knew before that. My agent just called. He was going to sign me. I was on his list of potential artists. He was planning to offer me a recording contract if everything went well on this tour. Guess who he just marked right off his list?”

  Oh shit. Kylie blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Mia, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I never would’ve asked you to go with me if I’d—”

  “If you’d what? Actually thought for a fucking minute before shooting your mouth off at the first person you felt like chewing out? Maybe you should start blowing up on that perfect boyfriend of yours instead of trashing other people’s careers.”

  It wasn’t like that. She’d been trying to do something for Lily. No good deed goes unpunished. She could add that to her list of things her daddy used to say. “Mia, I can call—”

  “No. Do not do me any fucking favors. I mean it. Just leave me the hell alone.” With that, Mia left, sliding the door shut behind her so hard it banged on the frame. Kylie flinched at the sound before dropping her head into her hands. She couldn’t even call Trace to vent because he’d told her not to go there in the first place.

  Why do I never listen?

  HE was late. Naturally. Because when it was time to leave, no one could find Gretchen. Why they couldn’t just leave her ass in Louisville was beyond him. He should’ve been walking into the CMA Festival in downtown Nashville three hours ago when Kylie’s show began. Instead, since Gretchen had decided to screw a bouncer in the bathroom of a bar, he was damn near sprinting through the crowd, sweating his ass off, and shoving people left and right. Danny, his fiddle player, had gone ahead of him.

  Thankfully he’d been able to get a new phone as soon as they got into town. His very first text was from Kylie asking if she could borrow Danny and his banjo for one song. The old man had waggled his eyebrows at Trace, saying that pretty little thing could borrow him anytime she wanted. If it had been anyone else, Trace would’ve made him spit teeth. But Danny was the closest thing he had to a dad, and he knew he was just messing with him. He was pretty curious about the song Kylie needed him for though, and he damn sure wasn’t going to miss it.

  She’d forgiven him about the pictures once he’d proven to her they were promos. But things had still been strained between them. She’d sounded distant and cut calls short. He didn’t like it. Missing the first show of hers he was supposed to be at probably wasn’t going to help things any.

  He needed to touch her, taste her, bury himself inside her until she remembered what they had and why it mattered.

  When he got to the Vitamin Water stage where she was performing, he had to restrain himself to keep from climbing up onto it and wrapping her in his arms. It had been six long and shitty weeks without her. His dick had been keeping track of the minutes. It twitched at the sight of her.

  “Hi y’all,” her sweet voice drawled. “Usually the three of us close the show together but Lily had some…family issues to handle and Mia’s helping her out. So I guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

  A few low whistles pierced the air as Trace made his way up front. Danny was up there with her, and she was sitting on a stool. He watched as she nodded at him to signal she was ready. Something was off. He could feel it, could see it. She usually looked like a damned superstar on stage, but tonight she seemed subdued. Sad even. His arms ached to wrap around her. No. They were keeping things as quiet as possible. Keeping the media out of it as much as they could manage. No need to taint his angel with his hellish reputation.

  Danny strummed his banjo and Kylie’s clear voice danced into the air. “My daddy used to say, never let ‘em see you sweat. Never let ‘em see you cry. Girl you know better than that.”

  Shit. The raw emotion in her voice broke over him. He didn’t even know she’d been working on a song about her dad. Why didn’t he know that? Oh yeah, because they hadn’t seen each other in six damned weeks. For a moment he was back in Macon, watching the pain cross her face as she told him about her daddy. He shook his head and focused on his beautiful girl up on stage.

  “My daddy used to say, never look down on a man. You look everyone in the eye, and you always shake hands.” Danny strummed a bit and sped up the tempo. “Cause you ain’t no better and you ain’t no worse. We all end up in the same ol’ hearse.”

  He watched as barely restrained ripples of hurt threatened to roll across her face. Jesus. Watching her fight off her own pain stabbed him hard and deep in the chest.

  “He said there’d come a time to stand my ground, said there’d be a day when I didn’t back down. Loved to remind me that what goes around always comes around. These are just the things my daddy used to say.”

  Danny stopped strumming altogether and Trace could see the moisture shining in her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think there was some in his too.

  Deafening silence surrounded him in the seconds before she finished. Her voice was clear and strong when it pierced the air between them. “When we laid him down in the cold hard ground, I knew it was time to walk away. But I’ll never forget…the things my daddy used to say.”

  The second the applause hit, he was in motion. She was standing up there, forcing a smile for a bunch of strangers when she was dying inside. To hell with the media. He barely had time to register the look of surprise on her face when he jumped up on the stage and wrapped his arms around her. Her perfect mouth dropped open slightly so he covered it with his. And what began as a gesture of comfort soon turned to one of need. Desperate need. He didn’t care who was watching or how many people had whipped out their damned cell phones to record it.

  Kylie returned his kiss with the same heated ache that had been building up inside of him for six excruciating weeks. He felt her hands pull at his neck and he lifted her off the ground. When the cheers and whistles became painfully loud, he lowered her back down.
She stepped back and grinned up at him through her thick, dark lashes. She was pink in the face, whether from the heat or the embarrassment of being mauled by her boyfriend on stage, he didn’t know. Either way, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever laid eyes on.

  “I guess we’re telling people now,” she said softly, her breathy voice making him rock hard. They had to get the hell out of here. Now.

  “Kylie Ryans, everybody!” he shouted into the mic as the cheers continued. He grinned, the grin that usually earned him several pairs of panties being thrown on stage. But there was only one set of panties he was concerned about at the moment. He glanced over at his fiddle player, who was putting away the banjo he rarely used. “Danny, make sure everyone stays off the bus for…” He looked over at Kylie, who was wide-eyed and staring up at him. “At least an hour. No, shit, make it two.” And with that, he picked his girlfriend up off her feet and carried her off stage.

  “HAVE you lost your mind?” Kylie couldn’t help but laugh at the crazy man practically running with her in his arms towards his bus.

  “Yeah, I have.” He licked his lips. “I think I left it with you because it’s been missing since the last time I saw you.”

  “Trace Corbin, was that a line you just fed me?”

  “Maybe. Did it work?” He raised a brow and glanced at her. The fierce determination in his eyes didn’t waver even though Kylie was teasing him.

  “Hmm. We’ll see.” She smirked, but inside she was a hot mess of want. She hadn’t been ready for that song, but Lily was nearly hysterical when her dad didn’t show, and Mia was still filled with rage and refusing to speak to her, much less close the show with her. It was the only thing Kylie could think to do. She knew Trace was coming and that his fiddle player also played the banjo. So she went for it. But when she’d taken the stage, she didn’t see Trace anywhere. And the song about her daddy damn near killed her. Until he appeared out of nowhere and gave her exactly what she needed. Comfort. Affection. Was it love? Maybe. She didn’t know for sure. She kind of hoped it was.