Nashville 2 - Hammer and a Song (7 page)

She has a mug in one hand, a book in the other. “Hey,” she says, looking up at us.

Case walks over to a wall unit and turns a button. The music lowers to barely audible.

“How are you?” I ask, thinking she still looks a little pale.

“Good,” she says. “Thanks to the both of you.”

Holden and I glance at each other, neither of us comfortable with the praise.

“Would y’all like some coffee or something?” Case asks, dropping down into the leather chair next to Lauren.

“No, thank you,” we say in unison, and I think maybe we’re starting to look and sound like twin puppets.

“Y’all sit down then,” Case says and waves a hand at two chairs opposite theirs.

Holden and I sit, again puppet-like.

“So what’s your story?” Case asks, his blue eyes direct on us both.

“Ah, I’m not sure what—” Holden begins.

“Why are you two in Nashville?” Case says. “Music I’m assuming.”

We both nod, and Case and Lauren smile.

“Relax, y’all,” Lauren says. “I know you two aren’t this uptight at the restaurant.”

I make an effort to do exactly that just because I feel so foolish sitting here like a bowling pin. I let my shoulders dip in and sit back in the chair.

“What’s your plan for making it here?” Case asks. “You write? Sing? Play?”

“I write,” Holden replies. “Sing a little.”

“I sing,” I say.

“I have a partner I play with,” Holden adds.

“Look, the reason we called y’all over this morning,” Case says, “is first to thank you for what you did for Lauren.” He reaches over and takes her hand in his. I realize then that in spite of the scene we witnessed in Lauren’s office, the two of them are no casual thing. They have real feelings for one another. That actually makes me happy for Lauren, even though I am one of the countless thousands of females who have no doubt had illicit dreams about him.

“If you hadn’t stopped to help her—” He breaks off, squeezes her hand and then looks at us again. “Thank you.”

I nod.

“I’m glad we could,” Holden says.

“So when Lauren said you were both wanting to get into the music business, I thought I’d put this in front of you first. No guarantees it’ll work or you’ll be what I’m looking for, but even a shot is hard to come by in this town.”

My heart kicks up to a level I can hear in my ears.
Thrump-ush. Thrump-ush.

“I’m looking to develop a young group. Three or four members, raw talent in place but with the ability to still be shaped. That fit y’all at all?”

I’m actually holding my breath. Waiting for Holden to say I’m not part of his and Thomas’s gig. But that’s not what he says. “Absolutely,” he answers, and I feel my chest release like an air valve has just been turned. I look at him with the most neutral expression I can muster, waiting to hear what he’s going to say next. “We’d be really grateful to have the chance to play for you, Mr. Phillips.”

“It’s Case,” he says. And then, “Two guys and two girls is what I’d planned to look at putting together. You got someone in mind for that?”

Holden answers without hesitating. “We do.”

“All right then,” Case says, slapping his hands on his thighs and standing. “Y’all come back around five this afternoon. I’ve got a studio here. We’ll see what we come up with.”

“I’ll call the restaurant and get someone to take your shifts for tonight,” Lauren says. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Thank you,” I say, standing.

Holden gets to his feet and says, “Yeah, thank you so much. Both of you.”

Case walks us to the door, pulls it open and once we’ve stepped outside, says, “Really. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for her last night. I can’t imagine—”

“It was our pleasure,” Holden says. “And you know, you don’t have to do this for us just because—”

“I know I don’t,” he says. “But I want to.”

There’s a cab waiting out front by the Rover, and I realize he must have already had that arranged.

“The fare’s taken care of,” he says. “See you at five.”

And with that, he goes back inside the house.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Holden

“What exactly just happened?” I ask as we roll down the long driveway toward the main road.

“I’m still wondering myself,” CeCe says. “Did we just get the kind of break that people wait years for?”

“I think we did.”

“But we’re not actually a group,” I say, starting to panic, “and how are we going to become one before five o’clock this afternoon?”

“I don’t know, but we are,” I say.

“Are you talking about Sarah as the fourth person?” CeCe asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and just saying it out loud makes me realize how ridiculous it is to think that she’ll even consider doing it. After the arugment we’d had this morning before I left, it’ll be amazing to me if she hasn’t already left to drive back to Atlanta.

“Do you think she will?” CeCe asks.

“She has to,” I say.

“What if she won’t?”

“Let’s not even think that right now.”

“I really don’t see her wanting to be on a stage with me.”

She’s right, but how can I admit that? We’ve just been handed an opportunity that we might never get again. Just to be heard by Case Phillips, not to mention being considered as a project he’s willing to develop.

“Shouldn’t you call Thomas?” CeCe asks.

I pull my phone from my pocket and tap the screen for his number. He answers with a groggy, “Hello?”

“Are you still in the sleeping bag?”

“What? You’re speaking to me now?”

“Not out of choice,” I say.

“Maturity never was your thing,” he grumbles.

“You’re not going to believe this, but Case Phillips just asked us to play for him this afternoon at five o’clock.”

“What?”

Thomas is awake now. I smile. “He’s looking to put together a group. The only thing we have to do before this afternoon is talk Sarah into auditioning with us.”

“Oh, no problem,” Thomas says, blowing out a sigh. “I’ll run on over to Music Row and see if I can hunt down Miranda Lambert while I’m at it.”

“She’s still there, right?” I ask.

“
Somebody’s
running the shower in your room.”

“Good. Don’t let her leave, okay. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“We’ve never all played together,” CeCe says as I drop my phone in my shirt pocket.

“We’ve never all had an opportunity like this,” I say. “It’s like winning the lottery. How many times do you win the lottery?”

“Odds are never.”

“Exactly,” I say. I just hope I can convince Sarah of this.

SHE’S AT THE DOOR with her suitcase when we get back.

“Where are you going?” I ask, as if I don’t already know.

“Back to Atlanta,” she says, glancing at CeCe and then forcing her gaze on me.

“Did Thomas tell you what just happened?” I ask.

“Yes. And I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“We need you to audition with us, Sarah. He’s looking for a group. Two guys. Two girls.”

Sarah tightens her grip on her purse strap and says, “This has always been your dream. It was never mine. And I came here for you. Not to be part of some ridiculous rainbow-chasing.”

The words cut. I can’t deny it. I’m sure the wound shows on my face, and I can feel CeCe and Thomas both looking at me with resignation, like they know she’s never going to agree.

“Maybe it is, Sarah,” I say. “But this is a chance that comes along about as often as the pot of gold. What do we have to lose in going for it? What do you have to lose?”

She looks at me for a long moment, and tears well in her eyes. “You,” she says.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CeCe

I’m not sure if I should clap or cry.

Holden doesn’t look at me before he follows Sarah into the bedroom. Hank Junior and Patsy stare at me from the couch. Hank Junior jumps off and trots over to greet me with a body wag. Patsy thumps her tail but doesn’t get down.

“You gonna consider that a victory or a defeat?” Thomas throws out from the kitchen where he’s unloading the dishwasher.

“Victory,” I say, walking over to help him.

“For the audition, yeah. Your heart, not so much.”

“I’m taking my heart out of the equation.”

“Easy said.”

I want to say not really, but choose silence as a better alternative.

Within five minutes, Holden and Sarah walk into the kitchen. Her eyes are dry, and she looks resigned if not happy.

“We’ve got the rest of the day,” Holden says, “to get three songs down dead and figure out how we’re going to look like we’ve been playing together forever. Let’s get on it.”

IF I WERE AN OUTSIDER looking in, I would have to give the four of us credit.

We do exactly what Holden said we would need to do and get down to business. We set up in the living room, Hank Junior and Patsy watching from their perch on the couch. Except for a couple breaks to take them outside and grab something to eat, we don’t stop practicing.

We decide to go with two covers that everybody knows, a Rascal Flatts and a Faith Hill. On the Rascal Flatts, Thomas takes the lead, while Sarah and I do harmony. On the Faith Hill, I take a verse, Sarah takes another and Thomas joins us on the chorus.

The third song is an original of Holden’s, and both he and Thomas decide that I should do the lead vocal. I feel the needles in Sarah’s glare, but she actually doesn’t say anything. She just goes along with every indication of being a team player. That is, until I butcher the fourth line of the first verse for the seventh or so time.

“Seriously?” She throws her hands up in the air, turns to Holden and says, “I know this song. Why is she singing it?”

She glances at me and then back at Holden. “You think she’s better than I am?”

“You know that’s not it,” Holden says, rubbing the guitar pick between his thumb and index finger.

“Then what is it?” she asks.

Thomas shakes his head and starts to laugh. “Here’s how I see it. By some stroke of good fortune,” he says, nodding at me and then at Holden, “these two have managed to get us an opportunity that few people would ever get no matter how hard they worked their tails off in this town. Case Phillips wants to pay them back for pretty much saving the life of the woman he loves. And I for one am not gonna laugh in the face of that. I am totally content to ride shotgun on this one. Sarah. If I were you, I would be, too.”