Authors: Alison Packard
Jessie waved a hand.
“I’m not. Will you let the band know we’re doing it? I’ll
square it with Drew.”
Wally threw her a wry
smile. “Just look at him when you sing this time.”
“Don’t worry, that
won’t be a—” A sharp rap on the door interrupted her. “That’s
probably Barry.” Her pulse accelerated as Wally moved to the door
and opened it.
Now that she knew that
Barry Downs was lower than a snake’s belly, she no longer found his
particular brand of middle-aged good looks all that attractive. With
his expensive Armani suits, fake tan and perfectly coiffed hair, he
looked more like a used car salesman than an artist’s business
manager.
Barry nodded at Wally,
then turned his gaze on her after he entered the room. The scent of
his pungent cologne followed him inside. “How’re you holding up?”
he asked with such warm sincerity she almost believed him. He lowered
his eyes to her chest and she was thankful for the protection of her
modest terry cloth robe. “I’m so sorry for what you’re going
through. It must be awful.”
“Actually,” Wally
said, as he closed the door. “The whole fiasco turned out to be a
blessing in disguise.”
Barry’s thin brows
rose. “Really? How so?”
Wally puffed his chest
out and a self-satisfied grin kicked up the corners of his mouth.
“Jessie’s interview has already aired in two time zones, and the
reaction from the public is positive. Her fans are behind her one
hundred percent, and the rest of the country sympathizes with her.”
Jessie let out a gasp
of surprised relief. “Are you serious?”
Damn
it.
Why hadn’t he shared that information with her when
he first came in?
“I wouldn’t joke
about something like that. The interview will air in this time zone
at ten, and I’m certain the tide will continue to roll in your
favor.” He looked from her to Barry and waggled his brows. “I
think we just turned lemons into lemonade. What do you think about
that, Barry?”
Barry’s mouth opened
but no sound came out. Not for a few seconds anyway. “Well…it’s
good news, of course. But I’m not sure why you called me here to
tell me about it.”
Jessie shifted in her
chair and gave him a big smile. “Well,
Bare
.
We just wanted to thank you. After all, if it wasn’t for you, none
of this newfound fan support would have been possible.”
Barry’s eyes widened
and a tinge of red crept up his neck from his starched white collar.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Jessie laughed,
gesturing toward him with her hand. “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be so
modest. We all know you’re the one who spilled the beans about my
past.” She leaned forward and fixed her gaze on him. “I’m sure
you were hoping for a different result, but you know what they say
about the best laid plans.”
“I…I don’t know
what you’re talking about.” His dark eyes darted from her to
Wally, then back to her. “I didn’t tell anyone about your past.
How would I benefit from doing something like that?”
“That’s what we
were wondering.” Wally cocked his head and lifted a brow. “Could
it be you wanted to take Jessie down a peg or two, and then push
Trista into the limelight?”
The mock outrage on
Barry’s face made Jessie snort. “Don’t even try denying it,”
she said. “Someone overheard you admit it. And they’re a very
reliable source.”
“Who?” Barry
demanded.
Jessie shot him a
breezy smile, then lifted a hand to study her nails for a few
seconds. “Oh, just someone who’s looking for a new manager.”
“Trista?”
“Bingo.” Jessie
grinned.
“Why that little
bitch. Just wait until I—”
“Until you what?”
she cut him off sharply. “I hope that’s not a threat, because if
you hurt Trista in any way, you’ll answer to me.”
“Like I’m afraid of
you, and as for your accusations, you can’t prove a damn thing.”
He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at her. He was so
angry his whole body shook, and his face had turned beet red. If
enjoying his comeuppance was wrong, she didn’t want to be right.
“Not even gonna try,
Bare
.” She sat back
in her chair and held his gaze, and this time she wasn’t smiling.
“But trust me on this. I will make it my personal mission to make
sure everyone in Nashville knows exactly what kind of a
snake-in-the-grass you are. You’ll be lucky to manage a karaoke
singer at Ms. Kelli’s by the time Wally and I are through with
you.”
Barry’s face
contorted with anger, and she wasn’t sure, but it looked like one
of his eyes was twitching. “You’re nothing but white trash with
money,” he ground out through clenched teeth.
“And you’re nothing
but an asshole who’s about to lose his number one artist,” she
shot back smoothly, even though her heart felt like it was racing at
a thousand beats per minute.
Wally moved to the door
and opened it. “Say good-bye, Barry.”
Jessie smothered a
laugh as Wally lifted his hand and executed a perfect beauty pageant
wave.
“You two deserve each
other,” Barry said, then turned and stalked out of the room.
Wally shut the door,
looked at her, and together they burst into laughter.
“Oh boy, I enjoyed
that way too much,” Jessie said, then happened to glance at the
clock on the wall. Her stomach plummeted. “Holy crap. It’s almost
show time.” She pushed out of the chair and made a mad dash to the
wardrobe rack near the bathroom door. “I have to get dressed.”
She whipped the white fringe dress off its hanger. “And I need to
talk to Drew before he goes on stage.” She gestured at Wally with
her hand. “And you need to tell the band we’re putting the duet
back in the show.”
“You do remember
we’re live tonight, right?” Wally asked as he hurried towards the
door.
“We’re live every
night. I’m not afraid of a few television cameras.” She pointed
toward the door. “Go find Drew. Don’t let him on the stage until
I get there.”
After setting a new
world’s record for putting on her dress and assorted accessories,
Jessie left her dressing room and walked as fast as her stilettos
would allow down the hallway and towards the back stage entrance.
Someone tried to hand her a bottle of water but she smiled politely
and sped past them. She didn’t have time for water. Even John found
it hard to keep up with her as she pushed through the double doors
that led to the backstage area.
As she approached the
stairs, she glanced up and saw Drew at the top with Wally standing by
his side. Relief filled her entire body as she quickly navigated the
stairs. And although she couldn’t see them, she could hear the
excited buzz of the audience as they waited for the show to begin.
“Thank you, Wally.
Can you give us a minute?”
With a furrowed brow,
he checked his watch. “You don’t have much more than that. The
show starts in five.” He cast her an anxious glance. “This is
live television, Jessie.”
She patted his arm and
flashed a reassuring smile. “So you keep reminding me. Don’t
worry. I’ve got this.”
“I’m holding you to
that.” Wally reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Break a leg.”
“Thanks,” she said
to Wally’s retreating back, then turned to Drew, whose inscrutable
expression was impossible to read. With no time to spare, she forged
ahead. “Will you reconsider your decision and sing the duet with me
tonight?”
Surprise flared in his
eyes. “We only rehearsed it that one day, and even then it was
without Jimmy and Ray.”
“Ray knows the song.
But we could do it with just you on guitar if we have to. It can
work, Drew. I know it can. Wally has a gut feeling about this song,
and I trust him implicitly.” She put her hand on his arm. “I
won’t ask you for anything else ever again. Please?”
“Are you sure about
this? It’s live television.”
Jessie rolled her eyes.
“So what? If we mess up, we mess up. My whole sordid story is out
there now. I doubt anyone will be talking about one flubbed song,
come tomorrow. Please, Drew?”
“First, your story
isn’t sordid. And second, I’ll do it.” He glanced toward the
stage where the band was waiting. Judging by their shadowy
silhouettes in the darkness, they were in position and no doubt
wondering where their lead guitarist was. “I have to get out
there,” he said, and started to turn away from her.
“Drew. Wait.” She
grabbed his arm, preventing him from walking away. He pivoted and
regarded her with a look of impatience. “There’s one more thing I
need to tell you.”
“Now?” He shook his
head in exasperation. “We have a show in less than five minutes.”
She bit her lower lip
and nodded. “But we didn’t get to finish our conversation earlier
and—”
“You can tell me
later. I need to get out there with the rest of the band, and you
need to get to your mark so you can make your entrance.”
“Drew.” She tugged
at his arm again, desperate to say what she hadn’t been able to
before Wally interrupted them.
“Whatever it is, it
can wait until after the show.”
“But—” she began,
and wanted to cry out in frustration as he tugged his arm from her
grasp and strode toward the stage. “Drew!” she called out,
raising her voice above the mounting hum of the audience. She wasn’t
sure he’d heard her until he stopped and slowly turned around.
Their eyes locked, held, and the crackle of energy that passed
between them was so strong it seemed she’d been struck by
lightning.
Somewhere behind her,
she heard Wally shouting for her to get to her mark but she stayed
rooted to the spot. For some inexplicable reason she needed to tell
Drew how she felt about him right now. It was crazy stupid, but the
powerful force inside her couldn’t be denied.
Footsteps sounded on
the stairs behind her. Instinctively she knew it was Wally, and that
he was going to get her to her mark if he had to carry her there
himself. She only had seconds to tell Drew what was in her heart.
“I love you!” she
yelled, then let out a surprised gasp as Wally wrapped his fingers
around her upper arm.
“Get your ass to your
mark right now.” Wally’s stern voice brooked no argument. He
pointed at Drew. “And you. Get on that stage, pronto.”
Jessie tried to pull her arm from
Wally’s firm grasp, but he held on tight and pulled her toward the
back of the stage.
As wild applause
filled the Grand Garden Arena, Drew stood several feet behind Jessie
as she bowed her head and lowered her microphone. The song she’d
just finished was one of her biggest hits, and one she’d written.
And now that he knew about her grandmother, the lyrics in “Forgotten
Memories” made a lot more sense. As did the fact that the song was
always difficult for her to get through without crying.
For over an hour,
Jessie had put on the show of her life—they all had. Drew wasn’t
sure if it was because of the television cameras, or if they were
feeding off of Jessie’s incredible energy. But whatever it was, he
wasn’t about to question it. When something was going well, the
best thing for all concerned was to be thankful and roll with it.
The lights dimmed on
the band, and on Tara and Renee, and then a lone spotlight fell on
Jessie. Two roadies brought out the stools that he and Jessie would
use for their duet, while another roadie handed him his wireless mic
and quickly helped him put it on and adjust it. He nodded his thanks,
then moved toward the stools and took a seat on one as Jessie lifted
her microphone.
“Thank you.” Her
voice shook with emotion. “Thank y’all so much,” she said
again, as the audience cheered and whistled with enthusiastic
appreciation. Just as they had the moment she’d walked on stage.
The crowd clearly loved her, and a number of them had brought
homemade signs into the arena declaring their love and support.
As she started her
pre-song chat, Drew allowed his gaze to wander over her curves. A
spike of heat caught him low in his gut, as he remembered her words
to him right before Wally had shown up and whisked her away.
I
love you.
Every minute since
she’d said those words felt like fucking eternity. And now all he
wanted was for the damn concert to be over so he could tell her what
he hadn’t been able to the night she’d shown up at his apartment.
And why.
“One more thing,
y'all, I’d appreciate it if you could send some good thoughts out
to our guitar player, Kenny Lassiter.” Jessie’s voice penetrated
his thoughts and jerked him back to reality. He adjusted his guitar
strap and tried to focus. “He’s laid up back in Nashville, but I
know for a fact he’s watching the show on CMT tonight, so keep him
in your prayers.”
The crowd responded
with hoots and hollers for Kenny, as Jessie turned and headed toward
Drew. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. The sexier-than-hell
dress she wore showed off more than a mile of her killer legs. The
dress was white, and the short fringe shimmied every time she moved.
Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders in wild disarray, just as
it had the night he’d met her at the Music City Saloon. He wasn’t
sure it was possible, but she was even more beautiful tonight than
she’d been that night. Or maybe he was seeing her through different
eyes. The only thing that remained the same was the way he got hard
just looking at her.
As she approached him,
the spotlight moved with her until it encompassed them both. She shot
him a quick glance, and a tremulous smile, as she slid onto the stool
next to him. He tried not to stare at her legs, but it was hard not
to. They were spectacular. Just like the rest of her.
“Folks, sitting next
to me is one of the best guitar players in Nashville. His name is
Drew Carmichael, and I want you to remember his name because I think
you’ll be hearing it again real soon.” She paused to let the
audience settle down and turned to look at him. “Drew’s a good
friend of mine and he’s agreed to sing with me tonight.” She put
her hand on his arm and a hot current of electricity ricocheted
straight through him. The widening of Jessie’s eyes and her sharp
intake of breath indicated she’d felt it too. She blinked, and
quickly slipped back into performance mode.