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Authors: Melissa Pearl

Tags: #second chance, #country music, #coming of age college romance new adult, #new adult clean romance, #small town country western romance, #songbird novel

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Chapter Nine

 

Josh

 

Stepping through the back door, I wiped my boots on the mat and clicked my fingers for Duke to follow. He snuffled and shook his slobbery jowls before walking past me. I ran my fingers through his fur as he trotted by. He was a big boy now, halfway through his life and five times the size of when I got him.

I’d never forget the day Aunt Lindy placed him in my lap. The week earlier, she’d told me about her cancer and I’d been devastated. I’d only just gotten past losing my father, and the idea of losing her too had all been too much. Duke—the perfect distraction—was a godsend. I’d poured all my energy into training him and he’d become the perfect dog.

We sauntered through to the main bar together, Duke heading for the window and stretching out for a nap in the warm sun. I envied him a little. I was up to my second sleepless night in a row. Work the night before had damn near killed me. Everyone wanted to know where Rachel was. Having to explain her absence—having to make it sound like I was excited for her—had been nearly impossible. I’d fudged my way through, ignoring those
I told you so
looks from Ol’ Dan and his posse of pessimists. Damn them! I’d never once regretted begging Uncle Amos to let her stay, and I’d never once regretted letting that girl into my bed. I didn’t care about her past. That girl was everything I wanted.

Clutching the chair resting upside-down on the table, I pressed my forehead against one of the legs and forced myself to breathe. I didn’t usually start prepping the bar until lunchtime, but what the hell else was I supposed to do? Flipping the chair up, I then smacked it down on the floor before moving on to the next. It was usually Rachel’s job, but not anymore.

I had to look at hiring someone to replace her, but I couldn’t let myself think about that just yet. She still had her audition to go and there were no guarantees she’d get accepted. Yeah, yeah, there’d probably be more auditions just around the corner, but if Parker couldn’t find her something quick, I was guessing he wouldn’t keep shelling out for accommodations and the like. And with her meager savings, Rachel definitely couldn’t afford to stay. Maybe she’d come home sooner than I thought.

“Who are you trying to kid?” I muttered, pulling a chair off the table so fast it nearly flew into the window behind me.

Setting it down, I sucked in a breath. I needed music, something to stop me from wrecking this whole damn place. Thumping over to the jukebox, I started it up.

“These Days” by Rascal Flatts came on. I should have changed it but decided to endure the song, because that was not me. My Rachel
would
be coming back, and not after years of being away either. I wasn’t going to wait by the phone for her—I didn’t need to. I was going to trust that she’d get this whole
big city, bright stage lights
thing out of her system and return home.

Swallowing back my doubts, I got to work on the next table.

Duke’s head lifted off the floor, his low, gruff bark letting me know someone was coming. Checking my watch, I ambled back to the kitchen. Chef Denny never got there early—something must have been wrong.

Just what I needed. Dang it!

“Den, what’s the matter?” I stormed into the kitchen only to be stopped by my best friend’s lazy smile.

“Howdy, Grizz.” Brock held up a six-pack. “I thought you could use some company.”

“You brought beer into my bar?”

“Well, what the hell else was I supposed to bring? You can’t be drinking water when your heart’s breakin’.”

I shot him a dry glare before heading back for the bar. “My heart ain’t breakin’,” I called over my shoulder.

“You sure about that?” He followed me, placing the beer down and pulling one free.

I stomped over to the tables, grabbed another chair and then slammed it onto the wooden floor. “She’s coming back.”

“You sure about that?” Same question, entirely different tone.

It hurt, because a part of me—the part I didn’t want to acknowledge—believed him.

“It’s just an audition,” I grumbled.

Brock popped his beer open and took a long guzzle before throwing me a can. I caught it and placed it on the table while I lowered the rest of the chairs.

“When’s her audition then?” Brock sauntered over to table ten and got to work.

“I don’t know, sometime today.”

“She called you yet?”

My lips pressed into a tight line, my fingers gripping the back of the chair.

“I’m sure she’s just waiting until after the audition.” The lilt in Brock’s voice gave away the fact he was lying to make me feel better. That wasn’t usually his way.

I met his gaze and saw the truth. His pitying smile made me want to hit him.

“You’re gonna have to face it at some point, Grizz. She might never come back.”

“This is her
home
.”

Brock’s head shook. “She ain’t never called it that.”

“But I wanted her to!” My thundering voice surprised even me. Closing my eyes, I ran a hand through my hair, my shoulders slumping. “I just…” I shook my head, not even knowing how to say it.

When Aunty Lindy died, I shut myself off to any kind of emotion. Losing Dad had cut me pretty deep, but losing the woman who had raised me nearly cut me in half.

Being all open and telling people you loved them…telling them how you really felt, that only led to heartache, because you lost them and you were left with this gaping, raw wound that never really healed. The best thing to do was be numb to everything.

I’d resisted telling Rachel I loved her, like if I let it slip, I’d somehow jinx it. Even so, she’d made me feel again, and that’s why I had to believe she’d be coming back, because I wouldn’t recover from losing her, too.

I pulled out a chair and slumped into it. Cracking open my can of beer, I pressed it to my lips and drained half of it before slapping it onto the table.

Brock ambled over to my side and took a seat. “She ain’t the only girl in the world, Grizz.”

“She’s the only girl for me.”

Of that, I was sure.

I couldn’t guarantee if or when she’d come back, but that girl owned my heart and that wasn’t ever changing.

 

Chapter Ten

 

Rachel

 

The audition room was a small space with white walls, two chairs, and a high wooden stool. I followed Parker into the room and gripped the handle of my guitar case. Nerves had been beating on me all night, and the morning had brought no relief. I’d been awake at five and ended up going for a walk along the beach. The sand was cold against my toes, the vast expanse robbing me of breath. My soul soared as the fresh, salty air hit my skin, like a magical morning kiss. I stayed out there for a couple of hours watching surfers and early morning exercisers do their thing. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face the whole time I sat there.

But reality caught up with me soon enough, and I had to brush the sand from my butt and head back to the hotel. I’d been too nervous to eat so I spent the whole time practicing and then making myself pretty. I shaved my legs and put on a little makeup. Millie showed me how to do my hair real nice and tame my reckless curls. I had the smoky eye thing happening and a bright lipstick that made my smile shine. I was wearing my sexy little skirt, and I chose my fitted white tank with the American flag on it. It was low-cut and made my boobs look bigger. I figured it couldn’t hurt, right?

“Take a seat.” Parker pointed at the stool. “Why don’t you get yourself tuned and ready to go while I find Aren.”

My curls bobbed as I nodded and headed over to the stool.

Laying down my guitar case, I took out my beloved instrument and sat down to recheck my tuning. I didn’t have to adjust anything and was soon tapping my fingers on the wood and waiting.

The door opened and I flinched, unable to stop my embarrassed, breathy laugh.

“Rachel.” A tall man with angular features and a long, pointy nose approached me. He was dressed in dark slacks and a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top. He had on a fitted suit jacket that looked pretty stylish and matched his pointy shoes.

I took his outstretched hand and gave it a shake. “Hi.”

“I’m Aren Pierce.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I rested my forearm against my guitar and smiled.

I wasn’t quite sure how I wanted to come across. Confident, most certainly, but was that all he wanted? Or was he after a more enthusiastic cheerleader-type girl? I didn’t know what to say as he stood there staring at me. His critical, dark gaze traveled the length of my body before coming to rest on my face.

His thin lips eventually drew into a smile. “Parker’s right. You are very beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I grinned, praying my cheeks weren’t going bright red.

“Well…” Aren hitched his pants and took a seat on the chair while Parker sat down beside him. “Please, play me a couple of songs, and I’ll see if you’re what we’re looking for.”

“Okay.” I nodded.

I decided to go with my Michelle Branch song first—“Set Me Free.” My boot tapped out a silent beat in the air and I started strumming. A smile hit my lips before the first word left my mouth. I loved the song because it made me think of Mama. I loved the sound of my voice as I sang it. Getting lost within the tune was easy, and I floated through the piece.

The one time I glanced up at the men, I nearly faltered so I decided to keep my gaze down. I knew that was bad performing. It was always better to make eye contact with your audience.

Come on, Rachel, don’t blow this!

As I reached the final chorus, I looked straight at Aren, giving him some sunshine. He grinned back at me, his head bobbing in time with the song. I strummed my last chord and sang the final line with a flourish.

A swift silence filled the room after I was done, and my already-tattered nerves went into a frenzy. Thankfully, they didn’t leave me hanging for long. Aren and Parker shared a grin, the agent looking pretty smug with his find.

“That was great.” Aren’s smirk landed on me and he ran a hand through his slicked-back hair. He and Parker were cut from the same cloth—city boys to the core. “Let’s hear another one.”

Parker winked at me. “That Jessica Simpson one you played the other night was really great.”

“Okay.” My giddy insides danced with a squeal as I placed my fingers on the strings and strummed out the first rift of “Come On Over.” I had to think of Josh as I sang the song; it was impossible not to. I was glad I did. My voice took on a husky quality when I sang it to him, and I could tell by the looks of approval from the two men that they might have found the girl they were looking for.

 

*****

 

“He liked you.” Parker grinned as he drove me back to the hotel.

“I sure hope so.”

“No, he definitely did. I could tell.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to contain the squeal wanting to break free. “So, um.” I cleared my throat. “What happens now?”

“Well, we’ll give him a little time to think, but I’ll call him as soon as I’ve dropped you off and find out exactly where he’s sitting. If he wants to take you on, we’ll draw up a contract over the weekend, and I’ll bring it by on Monday.”

“Okay.”

“Once you’ve looked it over and are happy, then I’ll move you into your new digs and you can get to work.”

“New digs?”

“Yes, Aren provides a little apartment for his singers. The rent comes out of your paycheck, but I can show you all this in the contract.”

“So, what’s the basic package then?” I held down my curls. They were dancing with the wind and tickling my face as we wove through the sunny streets.

“Well, like I said the night we met, you sign on with him and become a regular act at his club. Throughout that time, he’ll train you and help you find your best marketing image—I’ll be helping with that, too. Aren has really good connections and gets producers through his place all the time, so working with him, plus having the security of my services, will land you a deal for sure.”

“So, Aren doesn’t mind losing his entertainment to other producers?”

“Well, he’ll get a cut, you see, so it works in his favor to help his singers and performers get noticed. And in the meantime, he’s able to entertain his patrons while training you. His club is amazing and busy every night of the week. This is a great opportunity for you. It will definitely put your name on the map.”

“This all just seems so easy.” I laughed, still in shock at how it was all coming together.

“Sometimes these things just fall into place. I can’t help thinking that it was providence that I walked into Clark’s Bar on Wednesday. Who knows, maybe it was providence that had my rental car breaking down, too. Whatever it was, I’m really happy that I discovered you.”

I grinned. “I’m happy you discovered me, too.”

He chuckled, turning toward the beach and my hotel.

“So, can I check out Aren’s club this weekend?”

Parker nodded. “We have to play this carefully. If he thinks we’re stalking or hounding him, it might put him off.”

“But how do I know I want this job? I kind of feel like I should see what I’ll be doing before I sign something.”

Parker’s grin was wide and toothy. “Trust me, you want this job. You’d be a fool to turn it down, but if it makes you feel better, I could take you out tomorrow night. There’s a club near here that’s really similar to Club Liberation, so you’ll get an idea of what you’ll be doing.”

“Okay.” I nodded, feeling better for asking. I didn’t want my sheer excitement overriding my common sense.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Rachel. Struggling singers would kill for a chance like this. I work with Aren a lot, and we’ve helped many kick off their careers. You give us twelve months, and we can turn you into the superstar you were born to be.”

“I like the sound of that.” A wide smile stretched across my face and stayed there…until I decided to call Josh.

 

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