by Caisey Quinn
Kylie’s head swam at the convoluted information Gretchen was piling on her. “But I saw the pictures. Same as the rest of the world. The two of you didn’t just happen to go into rehab at the same time, you walked through that door hand in hand.”
“And if we were teenagers, instead of grown adults, that might’ve been a big deal.” Gretchen’s pointed expression let Kylie know how big of a deal it wasn’t. “But for your information, if you saw a picture of Trace and I holding hands, it was because at the last minute, I panicked. The fear of everyone knowing I was trying to get help, of knowing I might fail, had me retreating. Trace literally pulled me through.”
“I still feel like I’m missing something. So were you and him together or not? And what in the world kind of business are you buying? Please don’t say a bar or a record label.”
Gretchen snorted. “No. Neither of those.” The woman took a deep breath and scooted her drink aside so she could prop her elbows on the table. “In order to explain about Trace, I have to tell you some things about me that are really none of your business. So once I do, you feel free to let them slip right out of your memory. Got it?”
Kylie nodded.
She watched as the other woman took a deep breath. “Okay, so I have a son.”
Kylie hands gripped the table. Her entire world began to tilt dangerously to one side. “Oh,” she whispered.
“Not with Trace. Christ almighty, why does everyone assume that?” Gretchen shook her head. “Anyways. Once upon a time, I was very young and naïve. I met a traveling musician who promised to help me get out of my backwater hometown in South Carolina. He turned out to be a dirtbag and left me pregnant and broke.”
Kylie’s mouth was dry, and she wished she’d ordered water or straight vodka instead of coffee. “Um, I’m sorry to hear that?”
“Sure, that’s an acceptable response.” Gretchen continued. “Anyways, I wasn’t ready to be a mother. I couldn’t even make decent decisions for myself. So my mom agreed to raise my son so I could pursue the one thing I loved.”
“Music,” Kylie offered softly, thinking they had that in common.
“No,” Gretchen said evenly. “Partying. Clubs, musicians, DJs, whatever. I was never like you and Trace. Music was never my be-all and end-all. I was a complete fucking mess with no real ambition.”
Or maybe not.
“Classy.”
“Yeah, well. I was eighteen and stupid. And then I stumbled into a band one of my loser boyfriends was in with Trace. Even in my stupidity, I knew a decent guy when I saw one. So I tried to ditch my boyfriend and hook up with him, and you can imagine how well that ended.”
Kylie tried not to make her internal cringing obvious. She must not have succeeded because Gretchen actually appeared sympathetic for a moment.
“Relax. It was one time, and we were both too drunk to remember. But it was enough to get me kicked out of the band. So I went home.”
Where you should’ve stayed, Kylie thought but didn’t say out loud.
“And my mom and Danny—that’s my son—had this bond. I felt like this giant third wheel that was just in the way. So I came back to Nashville and threw everything I had into music. I gambled on it, hoping my tiny bit of talent and originality would be enough.”
Her mouth turned down in a way that actually made Kylie feel sorry for her.
“I just wanted to be someone my son could be proud of, you know?”
The tears gathering in Gretchen’s eyes struck a chord in Kylie’s compassion center.
“As someone with two dead parents who would give it all up in a heartbeat to have them back, I can honestly say, I bet your son doesn’t care if you’re a musician or famous or whatever. My mom was a secretary and my daddy worked in a factory. I don’t remember my mom, but I thought my daddy was the most amazing person in the whole wide world. All your son probably cares about is that you’re there, that you’re his mom.”
Gretchen nodded and a few tears leaked from her eyes. She wiped them as quickly as they’d fallen. “Anyways, I didn’t ask you here to throw me a pity party. My mistakes are mine and I own them.”
“So why did you ask me here?” Kylie sucked in a breath and held it.
“Because I want you to know what’s going on with Trace. I think he needs you. And while the old me couldn’t really give a shit, the new me, the me who really does want to see him happy, doesn’t want to get in the way of that.”
“So…”
“So I’m going to tell you something I shouldn’t. Something Trace said during a group session in rehab that stuck with me.”
Kylie didn’t interrupt to mention that Gretchen had said that he’d kept her secrets but now she was revealing his. Because whatever she was about to tell her seemed important. And dammit, she wanted to know.
“We had this exercise we were supposed to do—describe our happy place—the one place where we were never tempted to drink.” Gretchen offered Kylie a small smile. “We were supposed to describe it in vivid detail for the group so that if any one of was tempted we could help each other by reminding them of that place, that place where they felt true happiness and didn’t want to drink.”
“Okay.” Kylie’s brows dipped as she tried to figure out how this was relevant.
“For most of us, it was a place from our childhood. Not for Trace.”
A fist clenched Kylie’s heart. No, his childhood didn’t contain many happy memories that she knew of.
“For him, the time he was happiest, the one time in his life he never felt temptation to drink…It was being in Macon…with you.” Gretchen paused. “I’ll give you a minute to let that sink in.”
And sink in it did. Kylie just sat there, speechless for one of the first times in her life.
“He described this day, this long afternoon, of just horsing around with you on the farm. He said he fell in love with you that day. We all kind of figured more happened than he’d described. But from the way he looked, lit up and happy in a way I’d never seen him, the falling in love was the most important part.”
A tiny sound of surprise escaped Kylie’s lips.
“I’m guessing this is a lot to for you to hear all at once. But there’s more. You okay?”
Kylie nodded and struggled to suck up the outpouring emotions threatening to escape. “I’m trying to be. Go ahead.”
“The facility in Dallas…It was struggling. It’s this sprawling, well-hidden place that could seriously be like the rehab place for people in need of privacy, like celebrities and such, if it had the funding needed.”
“So he bought it,” Kylie finished for her. Of course he had. He was always trying to save everything and everyone. Except himself.
“Sort of. He and I agreed to go in half, like silent investors. There’s a Board of Directors already in place, so we would literally be just money and maybe do a few figurehead-type things. Kind of like with his A Hand Up Foundation.”
“I see.” So Trace and Gretchen were going to be business partners. That was major, but not as major as she thought.
“I know what you think—how it looks. But for the record, he didn’t leave you for me, and he and I haven’t ever been an item like the media makes it seem.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming.”
Gretchen was quiet, just long enough for Kylie to feel a panic attack coming on. “There was this one night, your birthday, actually. We had a fight because he said he had to see you and I told him he wasn’t ready for that. That he hadn’t been sober long enough to go dealing with your unstable ass. But it was your birthday, so he was determined to do something nice, like show up with flowers or take you to dinner so the two of you could talk.”
“Oh God,” Kylie’s heart sank like a heavy stone into her empty stomach.
“Yeah. Turns out you’d moved on. When he came back to my place—”
“No. No I don’t tell me.” Kylie closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t need to know.”
She
didn’t. It didn’t matter. If he’d turned to Gretchen for comfort that night, well, so be it. She’d have to find a way to deal with it.
“We didn’t sleep together, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I offered. He turned me down, Kylie.” Gretchen shrugged. “And not for some noble reason like he didn’t want to hurt our friendship. He turned me down because he said he’d tried. He’d almost taken some waitress home after leaving your place, but all he could see was you. All he wanted was you.”
“So he went back to rehab?” Kylie had never gotten a chance to ask Trace why he hadn’t shown up at the party the label had thrown for their single. The rumor mill had answered the question for her and she’d assumed they were right.
“No. He went to Dallas and got everything in order so we could do the deal with the facility. The Second Chance Ranch we’re calling it.”
“Catchy,” Kylie said absently, still attempting to put the pieces together.
“Yeah, we think so. He’s funding this huge redesign to make it as similar to his farm in Macon. Because that’s the one place he doesn’t want to drink.”
“Because of me,” Kylie said softly.
The other woman nodded once. “Look, I told you I wasn’t going to blow smoke up your skirt and I didn’t. I won’t sit here and tell you life with him will be easy or even the best thing for either of you. Because who the hell am I to give anyone life advice?” Gretchen put her jacket back on. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to be anyone’s excuse. So if you don’t want to be with him, then don’t. But don’t try to pin it on me, because given the choice between me and you, Trace would step over my cold, dead body without blinking.”
Kylie frowned. “I don’t always make the best decisions in the spur of the moment. Especially when thrown into situations I’m not prepared for, I’ll admit that. But I’m not as completely vacant as you seem to think. I could tell pretty early into the tour that the two of you weren’t together together. That’s not why I left Macon when you showed up.”
Gretchen raised her eyebrows. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why did you?”
Kylie felt her forehead wrinkling as she tried to explain. “Because…because seeing the two of you made me realize that you have something with him that I never will. You understand about his drinking and you’re the one who he turns to in a crisis or when he needs help.”
“So? You gonna take up drinking so you can room together in rehab?”
Kylie’s eyes narrowed. “No. But I’m not going to stick around and wait for him to ask you what you think about he and I being together just so you can tell him to toss me out with the garbage either.” She sucked her bottom lip in so it wouldn’t give her pain away. “He told me himself that he respects you and values your opinion. And you’ve made your opinion of me pretty damn clear.”
Gretchen surprised her by laughing. “Seriously? That’s why you left? Why you’re making him give you space or what the hell ever?”
Does he tell her everything?
Kylie shrugged. “For the most part. Yeah.”
“Well in that case, I have good news.”
Kylie eyed her skeptically, wondering what good news she could possibly have. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“The truth is, even if I tell him to stay as far from you as humanly possible for the sake of his sobriety, he’s not going to listen.”
“How do you know?”
Gretchen’s eyes left hers and for a split-second she looked slightly ashamed of herself.
“Because that’s what I’ve been doing pretty much every time I’ve talked to him. I’ve been a pretty shitty friend to him actually. Telling him that he was a screw-up that couldn’t handle being with you because you’re young and childish and more than he can handle.”
Kylie felt her eyes widen at the grand confession from Gretchen Gibson. She cleared her throat. “Okay. So what changed your mind?”
Gretchen met her imploring stare. “Seeing your interview, and the fact that you basically told the label to fucking deal with it because they can’t switch Trace out with a dipshit like Parker and expect you to play along. Hearing you say those things about Trace—that you clearly believe to be true—I realized that I might have been wrong about you.”
“I love him,” Kylie said evenly. “Of course I believe those things to be true.”
“Well, good.” Gretchen finished off her coffee and moved her cup to the side. “Look, I’m not here for entirely unselfish reasons. This business deal is the one good thing I have in my life—the one thing I’m hoping will allow me to provide for my son myself. But if you can’t handle Trace being involved with me like that, I’m sure he’ll say to hell with it if you say the word.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Kylie assured her.
“I know you and I aren’t going to be shopping buddies any time soon, and I won’t lie and pretend I think you’re necessarily what’s best for Trace. But I’ll keep my opinion to myself and I’ll respect that the two of you are together. I really do care about the rehab facility. That place may have stopped Trace from destroying his life, but it’s what kept me from ending mine.”
Kylie struggled to swallow. She’d never really thought about how bad off Gretchen might’ve been. She’d been busy hating her.
As the both stood to leave, Gretchen pulled out her wallet and Kylie shook her head and slid several bills onto the table.
“Hey, Gretchen?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I hope the investment deal works out for you. For you and Trace both. But even if it doesn’t, I bet your son won’t think any less of you.”
The bell overhead chimed as they exited the diner. The woman smiled at her with gratitude in her eyes.
“Good luck to you, Kylie. I guess if you decide to work things out with Trace then I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Thanks.”
Kylie watched the woman—who’d been the bane of her existence for the past year—walk off in the other direction. She knew she couldn’t hear her, but the words came out anyways.
“See you around, Gretchen.”
“DOES ONE really need to wear a tie for a meeting in which one is getting dropped from one’s record label?”
Claire Ann adjusted the knot at his throat. “You don’t know that they’re dropping you.”
“I haven’t finished either of my last two tours. I’m pretty much a lost cause. They’d be stupid not to drop me.”
His sister met his eyes with her determined stare. “You could tell them, you know. You could get Mr. Ludlow to make them all sign something saying no one would leak anything to the press. Trace, if you just explained what happened—”
“No.” He shook himself loose of her grasp. “I’ve seen what happens when the sharks smell blood in the water. I won’t risk that where Rae is concerned and I don’t trust anyone there anyway.”
His sister sighed. “Well then, you’re better off without them. I’ll tell Pauly and Maude to start putting feelers out with other labels.”
Trace gave her a one-arm hug. “Thank you. But I think it’s time I handled these things myself. You have your own life, Claire Bear. I appreciate how much you do for me, but it’s time to be a big boy now.”
She nudged him. “You know I never minded.”
“I know. And that’s why I love you.”
“Speaking of love,” his sister began. “Have you talked to her?”
Trace scrubbed a hand roughly over his face. “I want to. I’m just trying to figure out what I should say.”
“Rae thinks you should lead with, ‘Will you marry me and have my babies?’”
Trace laughed. “What do you think I should lead with?”
His sister straightened his tie once more and placed her hands on his broad shoulders as her steady gaze met his.
“Your heart.”
TRACE WALKED into the offices of Capital Letter Records for what he knew was probably the last time.
Somewhere in the dark r
ecesses of his mind, he held a very faded, slightly blurred memory of the first time he’d walked through those doors. He’d thought his dreams were finally coming true.
It had been a hell of a lot more complicated than his twenty-year-old self had been ready for.
But his twenty-eight-year-old self had both feet in the real world. This was a day for saying goodbye.
“So Davies is here already and so are several members of the legal team,” Pauly informed him as they waited for his agent in the reception area. “They’re bringing in the big guns, so I just want you to be ready for anything.”
“I am,” Trace informed him. “It’s okay, Pauly. I’ve made my decision. I know they’re most likely going to drop the ax or give me some ridiculous ultimatum so I end up looking like the bad guy. They can bring it on. I’m ready for anything.”
The elevator opened and Kylie Ryans stepped out of it with their agent. Hannah was there too, but all Trace really saw was her.
She wore a short black business-style dress with a zipper in the front that screamed unzip me and Trace lost his center of gravity. The fuck-me heels she had on weren’t helping matters any either.
“Ready for anything except that, I’m guessing,” Pauly muttered from beside him.
“What’s she doing here?”
Maude approached them first. “I’m starting to think the label’s experiencing budget cuts. Looks like they’re going for a two-for-one special with the two of you. Your meeting is scheduled for the same time.”
Kylie’s face displayed her surprise clearly. Apparently Maude hadn’t told her this ahead of time. Sometimes he thought the old woman was going senile and sometimes he suspected she was just screwing with them for her own amusement.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He did his best to sound nonchalant, but the truth was, his heart was pounding, his tie was choking this shit out of him, and his dick was twitching in Kylie’s direction with a vengeance. Damn that dress.
He felt sweat drip down his back as she approached him.
