Cash (Sexy Bastard #2) (6 page)

The smile drops off my face.

No.

It’s just a big long scream
inside my head. No. Not possible. Fate cannot be that cruel.

Then Tanner Jakes steps out of the
wings and saunters to the mic, the slow roll of his hips accentuated
by low-slung, worn-in, sexy as hell button-fly jeans. All six feet
three of cowboy boot-wearing, Stetson-topped perfection. He is the
poster child for country music, and my own personal nightmare. He
leans into the mic, and it squeals. His dimples appear as he makes an
apology to the crowd.

They’re charmed. They’re
going to love him.

I know this because I once loved him.
Fate, you fickle bitch.

The music starts, and Mathias catches
my eye from the wings, flashing me a thumbs up. No. No thumbs up.
Suddenly there is not enough air in the room. But I’m stuck at
the front of the stage.

Tanner looks right at me and I can’t
move. Everything that I have put between this man and me evaporates,
and the raw wounds he left on my heart start bleeding again.

“I been out on the road so long,

On these old dirt roads,

Just thinkin’
bout the girl I left at home…”
he croons, in that soulful twang of his.

My eyes are stinging, and I look away.
I hate that he’s affecting me like this. Dopey love songs are a
staple for country music, just like the love of God and the USA.
They’re a dime a dozen. He probably has a million of them. But
hearing him sing still hurts.

This is not just some regular run of
the mill nightmare; this is a Dante’s lowest layer of hell
nightmare. The room shrinks, and I can’t escape the panic
that’s clawing at my stomach.

I can get through this, I tell myself.
This means nothing. How long can one song be? Not long enough to kill
me—that’s about the only good news I have. But Tanner
sings the chorus directly to me.

“She always felt like coming
home.”

He used that line.
On
me
. He said being with me felt like coming home. And now
he’s singing it, in this room full of people. Bastard.

I can’t be in the same room with
him. I can’t meet his baby blue eyes and not feel what I did.
If I am going to make it through the rest of this night, I can’t
listen to this song. Not when I know exactly where it comes from.

I push through the mesmerized crowd.
Yes, it’s quite possible that Tanner Jakes will be the next big
thing in country music, but I won’t be the one going over his
contracts.

People give me nasty looks when I bump
them aside. I don’t care. It’s self-preservation. Either
I get through, or they are going to witness my complete breakdown.

I’m going to be sick all over
this floor if I don’t get out of here right now.

“It’s so
romantic,” a redheaded on my left sighs. I want to slug
her. It’s not romantic if you know he wrote it about a woman
with whom he cheated on his wife. Then it’s
just disgusting.

And then I realize I
can’t
leave right now, because then I’d be locked into my job until I
quit. I need this promotion, and sneaking out of this event would be
my one-way ticket straight into a permanent career slump. Instead of
feeling like some traumatized Cinderella, I decide to act like an
adult and lock myself in the bathroom. I’m going to get through
this.

I lean against the door and will my
stomach back under control.

Screw everything. Twice.

His voice leaks through the door, and I
give in to what’s been plaguing my dreams and hanging around
during all my waking hours.

It was the best time of my life—or
so I thought. I’d been seeing Tanner for six months or so. We’d
met when I took a business trip to Nashville. He was the new kid on
the block, just signed an agent—hadn’t even met Mathias
or Triton yet. He built his audience all over the South, and when he
couldn’t be in Atlanta with me, we’d spend long hours on
emotional phone calls that made me ache just thinking about them.

The trip was his idea. Spur of the
moment, which was always his way. His world was controlled chaos and
I was happy to get swept up in it. The moments we had were brief and
we made the most of them.

That weekend, Tanner had found a house
on the Georgia coast. It was steps away from the beach, not that we
made it out there much. He surprised me at work with a bag, whisking
me away before I could even protest. It was a work-free weekend. A
chance to throw caution to the wind.

Rob had been in on the whole plan,
since he thought I could do with a bit of excitement in my life. Me,
miss straight-laced and tightly-planned, running off for a
spontaneous romantic weekend.

The long days blended into nights with
seamless ease. He played me songs on his guitar, working through the
kinks in his latest track. It was going to be his big hit. The one
that would send him straight to the top of the charts and dominate
the airwaves, making him a household name.

I’d curled up on the bed, in one
of his discarded t-shirts, content to bask in his exuberance. But
this song was giving him trouble.

“Speeding down that old dirt road
out running….driving straight…” he’d
stopped. Tried, and failed again.

“Driving down these old dirt
roads always felt like coming home,” I suggested, draping my
arms around him and breathing in the clean, citrus and cedar scent
from his shower gel.

“I like that,” he said with
a slow nod. “I can work with that.”

And just like that, it became the
center of the song. The heart of our relationship.

Spontaneity. It’s what defined
us. Surprise trips. Long nights. I’d open the door and there
he’d be. I decided one day to try it myself. Be the one to
knock on his door and tell him all about the crazy plans I had for
us. So I flew to Nashville with stars in my eyes and a plan to play
tourist hooky all weekend.

His house was old fashioned, with a
garden that had blooms packed into every nook and cranny. At the
time, I’d thought he just had a good gardener on staff. Then I
knocked on the door and a woman answered. She was beautiful. Blond.
Blue eyed. The sort of girl next door you expect a country singer to
end up with.

“Can I help you?” she asked
sweetly.

Like an idiot, I said, “I’m,
um, looking for Tanner…”

Her pose went from casual to defensive
in two seconds flat. She crossed her arms, fully displaying the heavy
ring on her left hand.

“Well, maybe I can help you. I
am, after all, his wife.”

It was all I could do to get out of
there. I switched my ticket, paid through the nose just to get out of
town as fast as I could. Fights I could have handled. Screaming
matches to the stars would have been right up my alley, but instead I
was gutted. I’d never felt so betrayed. I threw myself into
work, because if I couldn’t have that happily ever after with
that garden and picket fence, then I would be the best damn lawyer
this side of the Mason Dixon Line.

Desperate to clear the memory, I brace
myself on the sink and take a deep breath. Months of throwing myself
into my job has left me defenseless in my personal life. It’s
going to be okay, I tell myself. But one look in the mirror and I
know it’s not. I look like I’ve been run over by a truck
that backed up and ran me over again for good measure. Fumbling
inside my clutch, I fish out my phone. I dial the only number I trust
to get me out of situations like this.

You’ve reached Cassie—

Damn.
Shit. Fuck
. I hit end.
Do
not panic.
Cassie’s
probably at the bar like she is most nights. Probably can’t
even hear her cell phone ringing in her bag. I dial the bar and hope
someone picks up. Cassie’s back on this side of the Atlantic,
it means I don’t have to face this alone.

“Altitude, Cash speaking—”

“Is Cassie there?” I ask
quietly. I take a deep breath.
Don’t
cry — do not
cry
. The tears don’t fall, but they aren’t far
away.

“Savy? What’s wrong?”

Do I sound that bad?

I clear my throat and try to modulate
my voice. “Can you just find Cassie and tell her I’m at
the Intercontinental and I need an exit plan? Can you just tell her
that?”

“Talk to me, Savy, are you okay?
Do I need to bring my first aid kit?”

I let out a short, forced laugh. “No,
but some brass knuckles wouldn’t hurt. Just please tell Cassie
it’s an emergency, all right? I owe you.”

“I tend to collect on these
things. You sure you want to owe me something?”

“Cash,” I hiss. His playful
comments are not what I need right now.

“Right. Collect later, move now.”

That’s when the tears pile up and
the first one slips down my face. Then comes another. How can I go
back out there and face a room full of people supporting Tanner
Jakes? He’s got the world eating out of the palm of his hand
because he wrote a song about
us
.
Too bad only one of us ended up with a broken heart.

“It’s gonna be all right,
Savy. Sit tight.”

I hang up
.
That’s right
,
I tell myself. It didn’t kill me when I found out about his
wife, and it’s not going to kill me now. All right, Savannah,
get yourself together. You’ve had your moment. Time to put your
big girl panties on and go back out there and show them just what
sort of lawyer you are. I do not run from fights. Tanner Jakes can
write a million songs about our romance if he wants, but I don’t
have to let it affect me.

A few quick dabs with a tissue, and my
eyeliner is back to rights and no longer threatening to run down my
face. Thank God for waterproof mascara. Another coat of lipstick, and
I am ready to face the world. All I have to do is survive for the
next ten minutes, and if I can pass the bar and grab a cocktail, even
better. Then I’ll go home and crawl into a hot bath with a
large glass of wine and try to forget this night ever happened.

Calm, cool, and professional, I enter
the ballroom again. Briggs looks over me and his glance asks one
question: am I okay?

Of course I am, because I want to keep
my job and take over my department. I return his glance with a small
wave and grab a drink from the nearest waiter. A little liquid
courage never hurt anyone.

I skim through the small groups in the
room, making small talk, dropping business cards. Networking at its
finest. I can’t help but check my phone every chance I get,
trying to gauge how much longer it’s going to be until my best
friend arrives.

Eight minutes down and I am almost home
free, but there’s no stopping Mathias and his fellow Triton
execs from heading my way. Curses. There is going to be no escaping
this. I’ve put too much into this relationship to just blow it
off at the last second.

“Savannah,” Mathias says,
“there you are. I was afraid you’d run out on us. What do
you think of our latest investment? Fantastic, right?”

There are so many words I would use to
describe Tanner Jakes right now, and fantastic is not even at the
very bottom of that list.

“He’s something, all right.
I’m sure all the ladies really love him,” I say, fixing a
smile on my face. Make the deal and get out. Two minutes until
rescue. Breathe.

“They should be careful. He’s
married,” Mathias chuckles.

I can feel the blood drain from my face
for an instant.
Just a joke
I
remind myself.
Laugh
. I
barely manage to get the laugh out in time and when I do, it rings
false in my ears.

“Thank you for the warning, I’ll
be sure to pass it along to my colleagues. Mathias, you’re a
delight, but if you’ll excuse me I have to go.”

“Now give us just one second of
your time—Tanner wants to meet you. He’s heard so much
about Briggs, Meyers, and Associates that he practically forced us to
arrange a face-to-face meeting. We’re ready to sign.”

This is it. He took your heart; do not
let him take your future too.

“Of course,” I hear myself
say.
For the job, for the job, for the
promotion
. “I’d love to, but I am on a bit of
a time crunch myself. Perhaps instead of face time, we could
arrange—”

Mathias interrupts
me. “Don’t tell me you’re off to woo another
client.”

I try to laugh it off. “You know
how it is. No rest for us lawyers.”

Suddenly the flock parts, and there he
is. Tanner Jakes in the flesh. The one person I would have moved
heaven and earth for—too bad I missed one very important
accessory.

“Well there you are, Savannah
Sunday.” He takes my hand like it’s the easiest thing in
the world, his familiar blue eyes locking on mine. I feel like I’m
falling. All I want to do is pull away from him. Or maybe slap him.
Yes, if he doesn’t let me go in the next five seconds I’m
going to slap him. Rage boils. “It’s been too long,”
he drawls.

I pull my hand back and barely stop
myself from wiping it clean on my dress.

“Mr. Jakes—”

“Tanner, please. I like to be on
a first name basis with people who handle my…work.”

My cheeks go hot. “Tanner,
listen, I think we could do great things together—”

“I’m sure we could.”

Do not kill him. You need him.

I clear my throat. “I’m
sure my firm’s reputation precedes us, but what more do
you need to know about Briggs, Meyers, and Associates? What can I say
to convince you to let us help you make lots of money?”

Tanner looks
deep into my eyes again, and I do not back down. He will not rule me
here. This is my future and I am in control.

“Savy.”

I hear a voice, and Cash’s
nickname has me turning with equal amounts of hope and terror. He
wouldn’t—oh yes he would. Leave it to him to listen to
only half of the message. Cash parts the group with ease, despite the
fact he’s grossly underdressed for this party. Still in his
classic deep v-tee, jeans, and boots. His only exception is that he
somehow acquired a jacket. Accompanied by his dimpled smile and
classic features he almost looks like he might belong here.