by Sierra Hill
There was no doubt in his mind that she’d make it one day because she had a hell of a voice and a body to boot. Think Shania Twain and Shakira wrapped up in one baby-doll package. The girl could turn heads and did just that three months after they moved.
Chyna caught the eye of a producer, signed with an agent and the rest was history. And so was Remy. She left him high-and-dry, leaving only a note and some of her Greek yogurts behind in the apartment they had shared, along with his broken heart. That was two years ago.
Just as well, he thought. Better now before she became an ego-driven diva she was likely to become. Success and fame changed people. He’d learned from firsthand experience. It’s exactly what drove his family apart, when his own father’s band became famous and left him and his mother for a life full of groupies.
He’d seen the crushing devastation in his mother’s health as it deteriorated and he was left to pick up the pieces of her cancer-ravaged body. His father would seldom visit, and when he did, it was always in the company of a young, scantily-clad girl. Sometimes, they were barely older than him.
When his mother finally succumbed to ovarian cancer, Remy sold her house, used the money to earn his degree and found a job as an apprentice in a recording studio.
Moving out of L.A. had actually been a Godsend. He loved the small town feel of Nashville and the lush, green and vibrant countryside that could be found in every direction once you left the city limits.
His motorcycle became intimately familiar with every back road in the vicinity, as he’d often ride for hours trying to escape his own thoughts and memories.
His songwriting had suffered, though, since his break-up. You’d think he could have spewed out some really profound lyrics after being so unceremoniously dumped.
Lost love, anguish and pain were justifiably the precursors to making really great music. So many hits ballads could come from the misery and loss that only a heart broken could provide. Unfortunately, Remy’s writing creativity seemed only sparked by passion and lust. And that’s where Kenzie came into the picture.
She was his new muse.
He certainly hadn’t been looking for one and didn’t even realize he needed one. But after his first breakfast encounter with the gorgeous, green-eyed pixie, he’d found what he’d been missing all those months.
She seemed somewhat reserved, almost like she was hiding something, while still friendly and polite. She was relatively small, maybe five-two at the most, with gently curving hips and full and generous breasts, which were outlined perfectly in the little waitress uniform she wore.
Damn, what was it about girls in waitress or maid outfits that turned a guy on? And although short, her legs were shapely and strong, like maybe she was a dancer in the past. Or a yoga instructor. Legs that could grip you like a vice when your head was between her thighs.
Yeah, that’s where his thoughts had gone the moment she stopped at his table that first day and said good morning. And her voice. Like smooth melted caramel. It was music to his ears and made his dick stand up and take notice. She was sweet and sultry, cute but sexy. And he knew he had to find out more about her.
He’d tried to be covert and a little aloof the last two days, hoping to gain her interest by acting nonchalant and disinterested. Isn’t that how reverse psychology was supposed to work? She didn’t look like the kind of girl that would go for an overly contrived come on. So he was patient and bided his time, divesting a few details each time he spoke with her.
He’d learned that she had an old Honda Civic that was giving her trouble, because she was complaining about it to the busboy yesterday. She also was looking for a new place to live and was currently holed up in a pay-by-the-week hotel - this courtesy of her conversation with the other waitress named Donita. Boy, that one was a sex-starved cougar.
He only knew Kenzie’s first name, and wondered if it was short for something else. He’d have to ask her the next time he was in, which based on the current time, would be in about four more hours.
He laid his guitar down on the couch and stood up to stretch. The clock over the sound board said it was four-fifteen a.m. The recording session had wrapped up around two when the band was too hammered to even have coherent thoughts, much less record a demo. He sent them on their way and he stayed behind to write down a few lyrics and melody. It was soft and filled with longing - similar to his feelings about Kenzie.
Remy had sworn off relationships since his ex and had fallen into a pattern of one-night stands. The music business offered a never-ending supply of hot women, who loved musicians and didn’t mind putting out for quickies. All he’d needed to do while he was performing on stage was scan the crowded room, lock eyes with any one of the available chicks and flash his “I’ll make you come with these lips” smiles. He’d have them eating out of the palms of his hands. It worked like a charm and kept him satisfied.
Until he laid eyes on Kenzie.
He couldn’t quite get a read on her yet, but he definitely liked what he saw. Her hair was a soft, buttery blonde, which she wore either high up on her head in a messy bun or pulled back into a pony tail. He liked it both ways because it displayed her prominent cheekbones and the sleek line of her jaw. He could imagine licking his way down that jaw, under her chin and then down to the hollow curve of her neck.
Shit, these thoughts were not going to help him sleep.
Remy decided he should head back to his apartment to get some sleep before the entire process started over again tomorrow morning. Locking up the studio, he picked up his guitar case and notebook and walked the two blocks to the apartment he was currently sharing with his roommate, Nelson.
His association with Nels definitely came in handy when he didn’t have a lot of money for beer and wanted to get high. Nels was always up for smoking some weed if he wasn’t working, or even when he was working. The guy was a partier, which had its downfalls at times – like tonight.
Stepping into their two-bedroom apartment, it looked like an F5 tornado had laid to waste their kitchen and living room. Empty and half-empty bottles of beer and various other forms of liquor were strewn around the room. Some on tables, some on the floor and more on the kitchen counter. Trash, from pizza boxes to discarded condom wrappers were littered everywhere. Gross. If he found a used condom somewhere in this place, he was going to blow a gasket. Some people were so disrespectful.
Thankfully, the place looked free of any passed-out human life forms, unless they happened to be in his bedroom. A small ball of panic unleashed in his chest as he rushed to open the door to his room. He let out a sigh of relief when it appeared to be untouched.
He’d taken two steps into his room and set down his guitar case when the door across the hall opened and a half-naked woman came sauntering out. Caught a little off-guard, Remy cleared his throat to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. The too skinny, purple-streaked-haired chick looked up in surprise, but smiled, seemingly unconcerned with her state of undress.
“Hey. What’s up? You must be the MIA roommate. I didn’t know anyone else was around except me and Nels,” she motioned toward the bedroom she just stepped out from. “You missed a helluva rager tonight.”
Remy was trying to remember if he had ever met this girl before, but she was most likely just another one of his roommate’s random hook-ups. He shrugged and tried to avert his eyes, hoping that she hadn’t seen him accidentally checking out her tits.
She didn’t make a move to cover up, so she apparently didn’t care if he checked her out. She wasn’t his type, but what guy could ignore a practically naked woman standing in front of him? His dick sure didn’t pass on the opportunity.
It had been a few weeks since he’d last gotten any and his body was definitely tuned up and ready to go. He grumbled and looked down the hallway, back to the mess, trying to keep his eyes on something other than her body.
“Yeah, I apparently did. What the hell happened here?”
The girl finally showed some decency and lo
cked her arms in front of her chest, covering her beautiful assets. Yeah, that still didn’t help. His dick had already gotten an eye full and was very interested, but he’d never move in on his friend’s territory. Bros before hos and all that shit.
“Oh, you didn’t hear? Nels and the band just booked some tour dates and they leave this weekend for the East Coast. Sounds like they’ll be gone for about six months. Cool, huh?”
“Yeah, cool. That’s great.”
The sound of their voices must have wakened a disheveled-looking Nels, who came out of his room, his boxers on, but barely covering his parts. He looked like shit.
“Yo, Rem. You meet Krystal, here?” he asked, his voice low and sleek, his arm sliding around her bare waist and pulling her close. He whispered something in her ear that had her giggling and then she walked off into the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a click.
Throwing a hand through his already messed-up hair, Nels shot a look down the hall and then back to Remy, his eyes and face scrunching up into an unspoken apology.
“Wish you would’ve been around last night. This place was really rockin. We were celebrating.”
“Yeah, looks like it,” Remy said, leaning up against the doorframe and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So you’re leaving on tour soon, huh?” Nels nodded his head. “That’s great, man. I’m happy for you.”
“I know, right? It’s fucking phenomenal. We’re totally stoked. But, ya know, we’re like gonna be on the road for at least six months, if not longer. So, I was thinking…like maybe you could sublet my room for me. You know, like find someone who might need a place to crash for a while. They could pay my normal share of the rent and utilities, but not have to sign a lease. I was gonna talk to you about that today when I saw ya.”
Remy was actually impressed that Nels had even been thinking that clearly in the last twenty-four hours to consider his part of the lease. While it was still putting the burden on his shoulders to find a replacement roommate, at least it proved Nels wasn’t a complete douche and wouldn’t just leave him high and dry.
He couldn’t blame him though – it sounded like this was the break he and his band had been waiting for over the last year. He was really happy for his friend.
“Cool, bro. That sounds reasonable. I’m sure I can find someone who’s just looking for something temporary. I’ll figure it out.”
They moved down the hallway into the kitchen area where Nels opened the cupboard and pulled out two glasses, filling them with water. Handing one over to Remy, he took a swig of his own, downing the entire contents before placing the empty glass in the sink. Turning around to face his friend, Nels leaned back, propping himself up with his elbows against the counter.
“We’re leaving at the end of the week. I’ll pay my portion of the rent through the end of the month, in case you can’t get someone that quick. I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.”
Remy hadn’t known Nels for all that long, but he did know he was a stand-up guy. He’d met him through mutual acquaintances about six months earlier, and they seemed to click, especially over music. Nels was the base player for his band and was committed to making it big time.
Remy admired his determination and skillful base playing. He’d actually miss some of the impromptu jam sessions they’d had during the rare times they were home together. Nels tried on many occasion to convince Remy to join his band, but he’d always declined.
He was a solo act and enjoyed the freedom associated with creating his own music and not having to deal with the drama that other band members could create. He’d run across it too many times in the studio, trying to work with competing egos who all thought they knew best.
“I appreciate that, dude. I’ll check around to see if anyone knows of someone that’s looking for a place. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find a roomie. It’s not like I’m a slob or anything,” he laughed, acknowledging one of Nels’s biggest flaws.
His friend chuckled, a grin on his face as he shrugged and scanned the trashed kitchen and living area.
Turning to head back toward his bedroom, Nels acknowledged Remy’s not-so-subtle remark. “Sorry, man. I’ll make sure this shit’s cleaned up before you get home tomorrow.”
Remy shook his head and rolled his eyes. His friend had the best intentions but lacked the follow-through. He hoped his next roommate would have a better grasp on the concept of cleanliness.
“Dude, I won’t hold my breath.”
Chapter Three
One hundred and twenty-seven dollars.
Kenzie stared unblinkingly at her bank account statement, a panic beginning to rise from the pit of her stomach, the acid churning like toxic waste bubbling up to the surface.
She sunk her head into her hands, yanking at her strands of long hair, as if the action would yield a monetary result. Wasn’t there some fairytale about hair being spun into gold? That’s exactly what she needed and fast.
Along with needed money for food, gas, laundry, Visa bill, utilities and rent for the shithole, rent-by-the-day motel she was currently living in, she had absolutely no idea how she was going to make it. The tears of hopelessness started to pool in her eyes, her pride shriveling like a prune.
She could just hear her father’s voice right now, his lips pursed in a tight scowl, his deep blue eyes pinning her with scolding righteousness, saying, “I told you so.”
Well, fuck you, Daddy!
At twenty-two years old, holding a newly minted degree in Music and Literature, Kenzie Daniels was supposedly on the precipice of living her dream and starting out on the journey of a lifetime. All she’d ever wanted, had hoped for, was to become a singer/songwriter and musician. And dammit, she had talent; there was no way she’d ever let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something. Not her father, not Seth, not anyone.
To call her determined was an understatement. When she set her mind to something, it happened. Nothing and no one would get in her way. When she worked her ass off to get into the prestigious Pacific Northwest School of Arts, she got in. When she wrote the lyrics and music for her audition piece and used it to win a talent contest, she did it on her own merits.
Unfortunately for her, regardless of the talent and tenacity she possessed, the life she’d led less than three months ago was that of privilege and ease. The fact that her father’s nickname for Kenzie was Princess spoke volumes of how she had been raised – in a lush and pampered childhood.
Of course, that was before everything turned to shit and her father betrayed her trust and she cut off ties completely.
Kenzie used the money she’d received from graduation to purchase her plane ticket to Nashville and, upon arriving, purchased a beat-up old 2002 Honda Civic. She found the cheapest place she could rent and got hired as a waitress that afforded her regular income and evenings free to showcase her talents.
But determination and long hours did not necessarily equate to making money. Even with the tips and hourly wage at Hank’s, along with the few gigs she’d had around town, it was barely enough to get by. She had to figure out another way, otherwise she’d be heading back home with her tail between her legs and her pride dragging on the floor behind her.
Placing the remaining bills and mail neatly on the counter, Kenzie rinsed out her coffee cup in the small bathroom sink and grabbed her keys to head into work. Shutting the warped hotel room door securely behind her, she adroitly stepped over the homeless man that was sleeping near her entry.
He’d started showing up the previous week, and she’d left him some tuna and crackers in the evening, as if he were a stray cat. What else could she do? All she knew was that she had to do something quick about her living situation; otherwise she might very well end up like him someday in the not-so-far-off future.
****
Donita had been yammering on for over ten minutes about a guy she’d met recently who was apparently the spitting image of Fabio. Who the hell was that? Kenzie poured herself another cup of coffee, quietl
y suppressing a yawn as she feigned interest at Donita’s new guy.
Already eager for the breakfast rush to be over so she could take a break and get off her feet, Kenzie leaned a hip up against the counter as she nodded dutifully to her colleague, who continued to extol the virtues of this beautiful Yugoslavian beast she’d slept with the night before.
Donita’s zebra-striped fingernails tapped irritatingly against the counter, generating a groan of annoyance from Kenzie.
“What? Am I boring you with my tales of all-night-long, hedonistic pleasured erotic fornication?” Donita asked, her distinct cackle buzzing through the air. “Because it was anything but boring, honey. Woo! I’m getting all tingly and wet right now just replaying it in my mind.” She licked her lips and fanned herself with a menu for emphasis.
“Oh my God, Don. Must you be so crass? Sweet Baby Jesus, you have the dirtiest mind of anyone I’ve ever met. Could we please get through one morning without having to go into the details of your very creative and busy sex life?”
She heard a deep chuckle coming from Carlos, who was in earshot and always heard everything that was said. Had she not known he had a wife and three kids at home, Kenzie might have thought he had a crush on Little Miss Hottie Pants.
Swiping the menu out of Donita’s hands, Kenzie began her morning chore of wiping down the stack of sticky, grimy and greasy residue coating the laminated pages. They were about as gross as some of the stories she heard coming out of Donita’s mouth.
Even though most of the time she acted like she was thoroughly disgusted, Kenzie got a kick out of her raunchy and highly entertaining adventures. She’d definitely learned more about sex in the three short months working with Donita than she could have watching any porn movie out on the market. Not that she had ever watched one of those movies. And she certainly didn’t have all that much experience of her own.
Seth, whom she’d met in her junior year when she was twenty, had been her one and only boyfriend in college. She’d lost her virginity to him after six months of dating, and they’d stuck with the same two positions until their break-up. Not that she had anything against missionary or girl on top, but she’d always been eager to be a bit more adventurous side and wanted to explore her sensuality further. But that would have never been a possibility as long as she was with Seth – Mr. Control Freak. Heaven forbid she’d make a suggestion to him. That would have sent sparks flying and not in the sexual kind of way.
