Gypsy Hearts (18 page)

It had been a nice fantasy. Now it was time to wake
up and deal with reality.

Dexter cautiously emerged from under the bed, having recovered from his scare by the window.

"Come here, boy. I need a hug." Reaching down,
Josie scooped the cat into her arms and pressed him
against her chest.

At least she still had Dex to stand by her. She knew
his love was unwavering. He'd always be her faithful
companion no matter which road she took.

Brock was dead on his feet. He had shaken so many
hands and met so many new faces that his head was
spinning.

There'd be time to sort it all out later, Will had said.
Well, that may be so. But he didn't think he'd be coming
to any new conclusions with the time that was coming.

It was his music, his songs, and yet everyone tonight
felt they alone knew what was right for Brock. Brock
could see the irony in the situation. In all the years he'd
sat in his room and dreamed of living the life of a country musician, he'd been alone. In the beginning, he had
been. But he wasn't alone in this anymore. And after tonight, he realized he didn't want to be alone anymore.

The one thing he knew without a doubt he needed in
his life was the very thing they were trying to take
away-Josie.

It wasn't going to happen. No way. He just had to figure out a way to make it right.

The halls of the grand hotel were barren and the
bright lights down the corridor only made it seem
starker, washing out the decor that had probably cost
the hotel a mint in interior design fees. It only magnified the fact that he was a long way from home.

His own house in Steerage Rock was a far cry from
clean lined wallpaper and rich colored rugs, plush and
patterned with ornate designs. Sure, it had been just as
meticulously decorated years before his mother's
death, but the main home of the Silverado Cattle
Company had her warmth and love etched in every tiny
detail and hadn't been changed in over eight years.

Brock had never worn a watch and he didn't plan on
starting now that life was going to get out of control.
But he knew it was late-no, make that early-enough
that he shouldn't be knocking on anyone's door, especially Josie's.

In an hour or two people would be rising from their
beds, getting dressed and hustling down to breakfast.
They'd be starting their days and Brock was just finishing his. But he needed to see Josie.

She was probably asleep, comfortable and alone in
the privacy of her own space for the first time in over a
month. He normally would have relished the idea of
spending time alone with his own thoughts after being
elbow to elbow with the rest of the band. But he needed
to see Josie, needed to hold her and just hear her voice.
Brock was as sure about that as he was sure he needed
his next breath of air.

A quick knock on the door was all it was going to
take to satisfy his need. She'd be deep asleep and
wouldn't hear his knock, even though he'd wait and knock again. Fatigue would finally win over his desire
to see Josie and then he'd retire to his own room alone,
and probably sleep until noon. Who wouldn't be able to
sleep in a room the size of Texas and in a bed that was
a far cry bigger than the bunk he slept in on the bus?
Will had promised the luxury as a reward after such a
spectacular night.

But sleep wasn't what was on Brock's mind. So
much had happened tonight, so much he needed to talk
to Josie about. He didn't need a manager or his buddies
from the band. What he needed was his friend. And
although Josie had become more than just a mere friend
to him these past weeks, he knew he needed her to help
him sort through everything that was spinning in his
head.

As he suspected, his knock had gone unanswered.
Leaning his head against the door, he listened to the
silence, broken up only by the occasional hum of air
passing through the heating ducts. Not even the bell of
the elevator interrupted his listening for some sign from
the other side of the door.

Brock waited a full minute, then reached his fist to
the door again, stopping in mid-motion from knocking.
Even though they'd agreed to meet at her room after the
show, she was probably asleep. What right did he have
to disturb Josie? She wasn't going anywhere tonight
and she deserved the reward of uninterrupted sleep in a
comfortable bed just like the rest of them.

With a stifled sigh, he pushed away from the door
and prayed for the speed of sunrise.

The tears had come and gone. Josie knew they would.
She hadn't stopped them, or even tried to admonish herself for the weakness. This time things were different.
She wasn't running.

She'd given herself a good twenty minutes before
she could see beyond the blurriness in her eyes to
start packing. Why she'd unpacked her clothes from
her duffle and put them in the hotel dresser was a
mystery to her now. But there was no sense in keeping them there if she didn't plan on spending another
night. If she was being fired, then she wasn't in the
band's budget anymore and she couldn't afford to
stay in a hotel as luxurious as this and pay for it on
her own.

Josie tossed her clothes into her duffle bag a little
more carelessly than she normally would.

And the tears came again, forcing her to swipe at her
face to wipe away the moisture. She dabbed her eyes
with a tissue and then blew her nose. Damn the tears.
She'd expected the pain and had even accepted it, but she
refused to cry in front of Brock or the band. And if
she didn't pull herself together quickly, she wouldn't be
ready to face any of them in the morning. If she had her
way, she wouldn't see another tear at all.

Josie pulled her duffle open wide and started haphazardly stuffing her belongings into it. Since she couldn't
sleep, it didn't make sense to wait until morning to pack.

She'd have to look for an inexpensive apartment
tomorrow. There'd be newspapers in the lobby. She'd
remember to pick one up when they went down for
breakfast. Tomorrow at breakfast, she'd see Brock and he'd tell her exactly what was going on. In the excitement of the evening, talk always clouded judgment.
Before jumping to the conclusions that were spinning
in her head, she'd have to sort things out with Brock.

"What are you doing?"

Startled, she bounced back and landed on her behind
on the floor.

Pressing her hand to her chest, she said, "Brock, you
scared the daylights out of me."

"The door was open."

Realizing that she had indeed done such a stupid
thing in her upset state had her shoulders sagging. "I
thought I'd locked it when Miles and Roy left."

He was standing on the far side of the room, staring
at her duffle bag on the bed. "You have to be more careful about things like that. You didn't even notice when
I walked in. What are you doing?" he repeated.

"Packing."

He laughed one of those are-you-serious kind of disbelieving laughs. "Yeah, I kind of figured that one out.
The question is why?"

Well, there's no time like the present, she thought.

"I told you. Miles and Roy stopped by."

Shaking his head, he came into the room fully and
shut the door behind him. In the quiet of the night, it
sounded unusually loud. "What does that have to do
with anything?"

Josie couldn't help the smile that crept up on her face
despite the pain she felt in her heart. "I heard all about
what happened tonight. How the record company
offered you a deal."

"You heard wrong."

She dropped the shirt she'd been holding, tossing it
to the bed and advanced toward him.

"Wait. But Miles and Roy said-"

Frustrated, Brock said, "They offered me a recording
contract, yes. That much is true."

Hearing it from his own lips made the joy of the news
that much more real. "Brock, I'm so thrilled for you."

His eyes wouldn't leave her duffle bag, sitting wide
open on the bed, or the clothes that were thrown inside.
"That's why you're packing?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why?"

She didn't trust her voice to remain steady. But this
man was her friend, if nothing else. "Since I'm being
fired, I can't afford to stay at such an expensive hotel on
my own. I figured I'd search for something a little more
affordable tomorrow after breakfast."

"Miles and Roy told you that you were being
replaced?"

"Yes," she said, getting to her feet.

"And you just decided you'd leave. Just like that.
Without even talking to me?"

The hurt in his eyes almost leveled her. "No, that's
not it at all. I'm not leaving Nashville or you. Just this
hotel. And I wasn't going to leave here without talking
to you. Brock, are you telling me it isn't true?"

Brock sighed, relief replacing the hurt. "Nothing's
been decided. Nothing permanent, anyway. Will was
talking so fast I could hardly keep up with him."

"But they want you, right?"

His lips tilted to a grin, but it was bittersweet, as if he
was holding back the excitement of that for the
prospect of losing his band.

They want something. I'm just not sure it's me."

She smiled, wanted so much to reach out to him out
of joy for his success, yet the troubled look on his face
made her reach out for another reason.

"Of course they want you," she said, slipping her
arms around his waist. "Who else would they want?"

"I don't know."

Brock waved his hands around in frustration. He
should be on top of the world tonight and yet he acted like
a man who was about to come unglued, though not in
panic, as earlier in the evening. His expression was troubled, like he'd been waging war with himself and lost.

"Will started talking about bringing in some record
company techs to do sound at the Wild Horse. Before I
knew it, they were talking like it was all a done deal.
They wouldn't listen to a word I said after that. I just
got a bunch of 'Don't worry, kid. We've got you covered.' replies and a slap on the back."

Josie eased out of his grip, stifling a sigh. "Will didn't
listen to you at all?"

"Who do you think was slapping me on the back?"

"Well, then you heard the man yourself, Brock. The
news is fabulous for you. They want you. And that's
great. They just don't want me."

She picked the duffle up off the bed with one hand
and started to zip it shut, but stopped when Brock
pulled it from her hands.

"I want you, Josie. I don't happen to agree with Will's ideas or Rick Beckley's for that matter. When I caught
up with Will, I told him I didn't want anything they were
offering."

She dropped the duffle on the bed and a few balls of
rolled socks fell out along with her toothbrush and
makeup bag. She left them there and held onto Brock's
hand.

"Are you out of your mind?" she said, taking a step
toward him.

"Last time I checked, no."

"You said no? You actually told this record company
exec you didn't want a record contract?"

"I said no to the deal he was offering. As far as I'm
concerned, we're still negotiating."

Her hands flew to her face. She couldn't believe it.
What on earth was he doing? "You said no. Just like
that."

Brock pushed his hand over his head, fatigue pulling
at his face and clouding his beautiful blue eyes. "I told
him I'd think about it and get back to him."

The cockiness in his voice infuriated Josie.

"Brock, you need to get on the phone and call
Beckley back. Kiss his feet if you have to, but you don't
walk away from a recording contract. That's insanity!"

"What's insane is letting go of my band ... and
you."

"You just don't get it. There are a thousand guys just
like you standing outside Rick Beckley's office door
just hoping to get a smile from the man. They'd stoop
as low as shining his fancy patent leather shoes just to
get a moment of his time. And you just said no?"

"Yes." Brock remained calm and that made Josie all
the more agitated. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and her breathing became as shallow as Brock's
had earlier when he'd had his panic attack backstage
before the show.

"Brock, he offered you a contract."

"I know."

"You're sabotaging yourself. If you're still in a
panic-

"It has nothing to do with panic." He smiled for the
first time since coming into her room. "Thank God you
were with me tonight, Josie. I don't think I would have
made it on stage at all if you hadn't been here."

"This isn't an offer you can just walk away from that
easily. You've got to think about what you're doing.
You're good at what you do, but chances like this don't
come along as often as the seasons. Most people never
get a chance to realize their dreams. You can't make a
decision like this without thinking."

"That's what Beckley said, but I have thought about it."

"Yeah, for all of two seconds. Why are you doing
this?"