Lisa startled at his question. "What?"
"Someone hurt you. I didn't see it before. I guess I'm used to women set on hyper speed, not slow. But you're on slow, and there has to be a reason."
"All right. After what's happened between us, you should know. But I need to know what happened at the studio today." So much for taking it easy.
"Deal." Trace sipped his coffee, wincing at the taste of bitter instant crystals he'd found in the cabinet. "You first."
Lisa took a deep breath and wrapped her hands around her mug to keep her hands from shaking. "Long story short, I married my high school boyfriend, Danny, when I was nineteen. He talked a good talk, I guess. We'd made plans to go off to college, become a success at something. But after we married, he changed."
Despite her white-knuckled grip around her mug, Lisa started shaking, remembering. Trace took the mug from her and set it aside, then took her hands in his. She took a deep breath, drawing from his strength, before continuing.
"Once we married, he decided it would be too expensive if we both went to school at the same time, so he thought he should go first. I wanted to keep the peace, so I got a job and he went to school. At first, he'd tell me about everyone he'd met and what he was learning. After a while, he stopped talking to me, stopped coming home after class. If I questioned him, he'd tell me to shut up or say I was too stupid to follow anything he was learning. I fought with him at first. He started staying gone for days, but when he was home all we did was fight. He called me names, said I was ugly and stupid. I got a promotion at work and he said it was because I was a woman so they had to give it to me. It had nothing to do with doing my job. Then one day he came home with another girl."
Lisa heard her voice crack. She stood, released Trace's hand, paced the kitchen.
"He said the only thing I'd ever been good at was sex, and since this woman he'd met at school was also good at sex he wanted us both. He admitted, right there, he'd been cheating on me. I refused and he gave me an ultimatum - do what he wanted or get out. So I packed a bag. Just before I left he told me I'd be back, I was too stupid to ever make something of myself. There was a part of me that refused to believe him, and that part of me had the strength to walk out. By then we'd been married three years and I'd just turned twenty-two."
"Where did you go?"
"I went home for a while, to Georgia, but I couldn't stay there. So I enrolled in college here in Nashville and stayed. I struggled because of everything he'd said to me. But when I met Charlie, he believed in me. He gave me a job, mentored me. It's taken a long time, but Danny's voice is finally fading."
"I guess I came on too strong, reminded you of him, his demands."
"You did, yes." Lisa returned to the table, sat down next to him. "I could stroke your ego and say you wore me down, but I have a great friend who gave me some advice a few weeks ago. It's because of her I'm here with you now, why I didn't turn you away upstairs. I wanted to see what would happen, what could happen, between us. So here I am."
"Thank God." Trace lifted her hand, kissed it in that romantic gesture she loved.
"Your turn. I need to know what happened before I talk to Leon. Why did you yell at the girl?"
"Yell at the girl? The singer on stage? I didn't yell at the girl, I yelled at the director. The man is an idiot. I was tired and I told him off. He was the one yelling at the girl."
Trace ran his hand through his hair, the damp strands standing on end. "I know the punch and throwing the chair didn't help anything. I was pissed, I was tired. We all were pissed and tired. I guess I was just the one who ended up showing it."
"That isn't an excuse for your temper, Trace. But it gives me something to work with when I speak to Leon."
"We’d been there all day. We were hungry, tired, frustrated with equipment issues. The director was just being a dick. She was doing her best, but she was tired and it showed. She was missing her marks, messing up the song. Nothing was going well. I guess I just lost it."
Trace took another sip of his bitter coffee.
"I shouldn't have let him get to me. I've dealt with pricks before. He wasn't the first, he won't be the last." He sighed, looked her in the eyes. "I have to stay on the show so I can save this place. That's why I took the job. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do. Apologize, accept the blame, anything."
"We'll see what Leon and the rest of the producers want. I don't know how the publicity from the video is going to affect the show." Lisa checked her watch. It was almost nine. "It's late, but I need to get home and call him."
"I guess it's time to get back to the real world, huh?" Trace took their mugs to the sink and rinsed them out. Within five minutes they were back in his truck, heading for Nashville.
###
Lisa hated saying goodbye. In her opinion, it was the worst part of a great date. But she'd checked her phone and saw four missed calls from Leon and two from Patrick. She had to get busy, even if it was almost ten, and work with the show's producer and Trace's agent to get everything back on track.
Trace walked her up the stone walkway to the door of her small house. "I'll see you tomorrow, I hope."
"I think it could be arranged."
He leaned in, kissed her, his hands roaming her body. She shivered, remembering his touch on her bare skin.
At her shiver, he broke away from the kiss. "Cold?"
"No," she sighed. "I don't want to say goodnight yet. But I have to call Leon before he has a conniption."
"Then we won't say goodnight. We'll say, see you later." He leaned in to kiss her again and she wound her arms around his neck, pressing her body close.
Trace lifted his head away from her and gave her a peck on the nose. "See you later." Lisa released her hands from around his neck and let him step back. With a squeeze of her hand, he tipped his hat and headed back to his truck. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, peeking out of the glass panel in the door to see him again. He didn't drive away until she turned out the porch light.
Lisa gave herself a few minutes to relive everything that had happened that night. She wanted to remember everything before she started talking to Leon, Patrick, or anyone else. To buy some time, she carried her purse to the bedroom and changed into her most comfortable pair of sweats. Only after she'd made a mug of tea and sat at the table, her portfolio and notepad at the ready, did she call Leon.
"About time you called back," he answered. Lisa could tell he was annoyed.
"I didn't get a signal. I wasn't in town." Well, it was partially true. "I know about the video, Leon, and I've talked to Trace. I have an explanation, you can spin it however you like."
"Do you know I have reporters saying the show is cursed? And if they don't like that explanation, some say that Michelle wants to do it all herself and she's making the co-hosts' lives miserable. This is what I'm having to deal with."
Lisa took a deep breath and listened to Leon rant. She used the skills Charlie taught her -- Listen to what they say. Remember the key words. Look for the feelings underneath what they are saying. It's not the words that matter, it's the feelings. Repeat it back to them.
"I know the media is rough, Leon. I'm sorry you're having to deal with everything. Would it help to have Trace and Michelle appear together on an entertainment show for an interview? They can clear up the nonsense about a curse or about Michelle sabotaging the show."
Leon paused and Lisa could almost hear gears grinding in the silence as he thought it over.
"Okay, that could work. But he can't do this again. He's only recorded one show, Lisa. One. And he's got a reputation for trouble. You promised he wouldn't cause trouble."
Trace was trouble all right, but she wasn't about to tell Leon.
"He had a reason. There were equipment issues and the director was yelling at the girl, not Trace. They'd been there since six that morning with technical issues all day."
"I know, some of the performers and Michelle told me the same thing." He sighed and Lisa heard his
deep breath over the line. "Tell Trace one more time and he's out. I mean it. If the others hadn't spoken up for him, he'd already be out. But he seems to be doing well, and we don't need anymore curse theories. You'll set up that interview?"
"I will, and I'll let you know when and where." Lisa jotted down notes on her notepad. "Anything else, Leon?"
"Just keep him out of trouble, Lisa. Please."
Leon disconnected. Lisa pressed END on her phone and finished writing out her notes, making lists of producers and booking agents she knew. Maybe an exclusive would work better? She scribbled more notes.
It was almost eleven-thirty before she called Patrick. When he didn't answer, she left him a message to call her in the morning. Lisa rose from the chair and yawned. It had been a long day.
She headed back to her bedroom, deciding to go to bed before midnight for once, when her phone beeped. Lisa checked the display and smiled at seeing a text from Trace --
Thinking of U
She laughed as she typed out her reply.
Thinking of U 2. See you tomorrow?
The response came back in an instant --
Definitely
Chapter Fourteen
"Yes, Trace and Michelle will be on E! tomorrow. Of course they get along. They're old friends and they're enjoying working together. Yes, run the video. We're not pulling it down. Trace will share some information about the video tomorrow. Otherwise, you can read the press release I sent over this morning. Yes, that one. Okay, thanks." Lisa ended the call. She'd repeated the same material to so many reporters that day she felt as if her tongue was going to fall off. She sounded like a recording.
Tempted to turn her phone off, she headed down the hallway backstage toward Trace's dressing room. They'd decided to go out to dinner for their first in-public date. Lisa had ended up having to come straight from work, which meant she hadn't had time to change. She walked down the hall, her heeled boots clicking on the floor, searching for a restroom so she could at least comb her hair and check her makeup.
She had just seen a restroom when a woman walked up to her, blocking the entrance.
"Hello," she said, offering her hand for a shake. "I'm Caroline Sims, Molly's mother."
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Sims. Glad to meet you." Bathroom has to wait, networking comes first.
"You're Trace's manager, right? I wanted to tell you, I know the video looked bad, but he was standing up for Molly. I appreciate him doing that."
"Well, that's the type of man Trace is." Lisa meant every word.
"I think Molly has a bit of a crush on him."
"Well, that's the type of man Trace is." Lisa smiled.
"I believe you," Caroline laughed. "I did want to ask you something. I think Molly needs a manager. She's getting endorsement offers because of this show and her father and I don't know what to do."
"Well, an agent typically handles endorsement deals. A manager handles publicity and career management. Why don't you call Trace's agent, Patrick Mitchell? Here's his card" -- Lisa fished business cards from her handbag -- "and here's mine."
Lisa had them made right after Trace agreed to be her client. It was more real to see her name on a business card, the words "Talent Management" written below it in a flowery script.
"Thank you. I'll call him, but could we speak to you a moment?"
Lisa thought about her date, then the possibility of a new client. She was leaving her job in just over three weeks. She needed another client.
"Let me send a message and I'll meet you in Molly's dressing room. We can discuss a few things, talk it over with Molly."
"Molly's going to love seeing you. I'll meet you there." Caroline turned and walked back down the hallway.
Lisa sent Trace a quick text, telling him she was going to speak to Molly but would be done soon. Their dinner was still on -- she was not going to miss it. She sent the text and headed toward Molly's dressing room.
###
Lisa and Trace stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall towards his apartment. Lisa was laughing at something Trace had said and didn't see the woman at the end of the hallway until she'd walked up to meet them at the door.
"Hey, Sugar." The woman said, ignoring Lisa, looking right at Trace. "Thought I'd drop in and say hi."
"Trace, call security. They'll escort her out and then we can find out how a fan got up to your floor." Lisa scanned the woman from head to toe. Yep, crazy fan, trying to make an impression with teased up blonde hair, see-through lace top with a push-up bra underneath and too much eye makeup.
"Oh, Honey, Trace ain't going to call security on me. Are you, Sugar?"
"Trixie, what the hell are you doing here?"
Lisa looked at Trace and back at the garishly-dressed woman.
"Trace, you know her?"
"This is my ex-wife, Trixie. Do you know how big a mess you've caused? I can't believe you took out a mortgage on my house, on my land. Where's the money?"
"Oh, Sugar, it was all a misunderstanding. You said I could do whatever I needed to do while you were gone. I just needed to borrow a little bit of money, but I didn't own anything and the bank said I needed something. But I didn't do it on purpose." Trixie pouted, her eyes downcast, frowning, looking like a petulant child.
A cough sounded from behind them. One of Trace's neighbors had stepped into the hallway.
"Good evening, sir." Lisa's management skills took over. "We're sorry we bothered you." She leaned closer to Trace. "We need to go inside."
"I'm not letting her step a foot into my apartment." Trace's voice rose in angry volume.
The cough sounded again.
"Fine, dammit," he yelled at the neighbor, then took out his key and unlocked the door. "After you, ladies. Trixie, don't step one foot past the living room."
###
Trace followed the women inside. Anger boiled within him, threatening to bubble out and overtake everything around him.
"I ought to call the police and have you arrested." He followed them into the living room and tossed his hat on the glass-topped coffee table.
"You can't arrest me. I was your wife, I had power-of-attorney." Trixie sat on the sofa, leaning back against the cushions and crossing her legs.
Trace was not going for it. This had always been her M.O. - explain, apologize, be sexy. Not going to work this time around. And seeing her again, in her bright makeup and see-through clothes, he had to wonder what he'd ever seen in her.
"Trixie, why are you here?" He stood at the side of the couch, arms folded, feet spread, ready for anything.
"Sugar, could we speak in private?" Trixie motioned over to Lisa, sitting in the chair near the fireplace. "This conversation should be between husband and wife."
"I'm not your husband, you're not my wife, and Lisa stays. Again, what do you want?"
He watched Trixie flick her hair back from her face. This was another of her moves -- stalling.
"Out with it." He said, letting his irritation show.
"All right then. We have some unfinished business, Sugar. My attorney has informed me that I am due back spousal support."
A volcano flared deep within, burning so hot Trace would swear his face was bright red.
"You got all the support you're ever going to get. Not to mention the money you stole when you put my house and land up for collateral. You need to leave, now, or I will call the police and have them charge you with blackmail."
"Now, I didn't say anything about blackmail. I said back spousal support. I have a document right here." Trixie dug through her purse and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Trace. "My attorney says you didn't pay all of the agreed upon spousal support. That's the court order, to be paid immediately."
Trace took the document, skimmed it.
"Trixie, I don't care what this is" -- he ripped it in half, then in quarters, and let it drop to the floor -- "I'm not paying you another cent. You stole more money than this paper is even asking for."
"I've already told you,
I didn't steal anything. I borrowed the money, which I had every right to do as your wife." She rose from the couch and walked over to him, running her pink-polished nails over his arm.
"I saw you on TV the other night, and I thought, he is still so handsome. I remembered all our good times and wondered if you might like to give it another shot." Her voice went from sexy seductress to a pleading, little girl voice. "You know we were good together, Sugar." Ignoring Lisa in the chair behind her, Trixie caressed his arm again, her fingers trailing up his bicep.
Trace pushed her away. "You were good at getting drunk and passing out. You were good at spending my money on alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, other men. We were anything but good together."
"Oh, Sugar, sure we were. Remember when we met, that first night. I rocked your world." Trixie leaned closer and Trace could smell the alcohol on her breath.
"I was too drunk to notice, Trixie." Her name tasted foul in his mouth. "That's the only reason why I ever agreed to marry you. It was the longest two years of my life, and that was when I was drunk." He stalked to the door, opened it. "Leave, now."
He saw surprise in her eyes, but then the old cunning look he'd come to know in the final month of his marriage was back.
"Oh, this is because she's here." Trixie pointed to Lisa, who hadn't said a word. But Trace didn't like the look on her face.
"No, it's because I want you to leave. And if you ever ask me for money again, I'll have you arrested. Now open your mouth again, and I'll shut it for you."
Trixie opened her mouth as if to say something and Trace took a step forward, his hands balled into fists. He would keep his promise, it was God's honest truth. Trixie seemed to think better of it and stepped out into the hallway.
"You're going to regret saying no to me, Trace Harper." She threatened as she walked toward the elevators.
Trace slammed the door, locking it and setting the dead bolt for good measure. Then he punched the door, once, twice, three times. His hand aching, his heart pounding, he turned to look at Lisa.
The laughing, happy woman he'd had dinner with was gone. This Lisa was watching him, her fear evident. Trace struggled to get his breathing under control.
Hillbilly Rockstar Page 9
