Gypsy Hearts (20 page)

And how could he? Josie was gone. Sure, she was in
Nashville tonight, but she wasn't in his arms. When
he'd called her hotel room earlier, she hadn't answered
the phone.

He closed his eyes to his disappointment. He needed
to talk with her and didn't want to wait to meet her at
the pub. In public, he couldn't hold her like he wanted
to and he needed her to help him sort out all the things
that were spinning in his head tonight.

He hadn't seen her much at all over the past few
days. Will had filled up his schedule for the week so
much he hardly had room to breathe. Tonight he had
finally begged off another night of meeting record
company people and musicians, telling Will he had
other plans with Josie.

Checking his cell phone, he found there were no
messages, though he already suspected there wouldn't
be one there. He knew she'd be the one to wait for his
call. Not because she didn't care or want to see him, but
because she did. She wanted to give him space, but he
hated every minute without her.

Their first night in Nashville he'd told her he loved
her and she didn't say it back. But Brock knew Josie
didn't have to say she loved him as much as he loved
her. He knew it, felt it in everything she did.

He laughed at the irony, although no one was there to
hear it. Josie thought she was doing him a favor by giving him space. He didn't want it though, not from her.
The only freedom he ever wanted was to play his music
his way-not freedom from the woman who held his
life in balance.

But it wasn't fair for him to want her to give up
everything she'd dreamed of to travel around with him
and watch his success from the sidelines as his dreams
materialized and hers faded away. Just as he'd known
she'd come on the road with him because she was a
gypsy at heart, he also knew Josie wasn't a woman to
hang in the shadows and live her life through him. She
needed to shine in her own way. It made him all the
more determined to convince the record company that he needed Josie by his side in this deal. He wasn't
about to give up, not on the deal or on Josie. They'd
come too far.

Walking over to the closet, Brock grabbed his denim
jacket, pulled it on, and pocketed the key to his room.
He'd be early getting to the pub where he and Josie
were supposed to meet, but the walls of his hotel room
were beginning to close in on him more and he felt
more crowded than he had on the cramped bus. He
didn't want to be alone.

The boys in the band were out celebrating, as they
should be, Brock thought as he walked down the long
hall to the elevator. It had taken some doing, but those
last few nights of seeing the band play at the Wild
Horse Saloon had convinced the record company
executives that he had a good team. In the end, they
conceded to give the band a chance with the first
album and tour, whenever they were ready for that. It
was compromise enough for Brock, yet when it came
to fighting to keep Josie on as producer and sound
engineer, Will lost his steam and negotiations ended
there.

As he waited for the elevator to reach his floor, he
thought back to the negotiations with the record company.

It had been quite an eye opener for Brock.

The elevator bell sounded and the doors opened up
with a whoosh. Guilt ate at him for not seeing what
Will had been scheming to do, even though getting
Josie out of the picture hadn't accomplished any of the
things Will had in mind. All it did was make Brock miss her. He was more determined than ever to prove
she was as much apart of the band and his music as he
was. But almost as soon as the word contract was
uttered, Will was talking about Josie's replacement.

The elevator reached the ground level and Brock
walked through the lobby of the hotel, barely aware of
the people moving around him. Restlessness was running rampant through his veins and he needed space.
He didn't quite know how to quell the uneasy feeling,
but he knew it wouldn't disappear if he was stuffed in a
hotel room all alone.

As he pushed out onto the sidewalk and saw the
lights down on the strip, he decided the only way to rid
himself of this feeling was to get out and be with people. He walked across town to Josie's hotel, figuring he
could catch her before she left, but his disappointment
only grew when she didn't answer her door.

He walked a few blocks toward the noisy corner pub.
The bright neon lights posted above the door read THE
LAZY DOG LOUNGE. Josie had told him on the phone
that she'd eaten lunch here a few times and the food
was good. Maybe he could convince her to get the food
to go so they could bring it back to the hotel and spend
some time alone.

A young couple barreled through the double doors
onto the sidewalk, laughing hard and then embracing
with a kiss. A twinge of envy stabbed at him, making
him sigh and look away. He wanted this closeness with
Josie.

He pushed through the door into the crowded pub,
weaving through people milling about, looking to see if
Josie had also come early. But she was nowhere to be found and on the second pass through the pub, his eyes
were drawn to the empty stage. A drum kit sat in the
shadows behind a lone microphone. An acoustic guitar
was snug in a stand on the right side.

Brock had wanted to play his music for so long. In
all the dreams he'd had growing up, he'd been alone.
There'd never been anyone sharing the spotlight with
him. No one stood beside him on stage. Now he
couldn't imagine facing the road without Josie. When
had she gotten so important to him that those dreams
didn't seem right without her? But they didn't. He'd
fallen in love with this incredible woman he wanted by
his side so badly he couldn't wait for her to come walking through those doors.

"Table for one, sir?" the hostess asked. Brock barely
noticed the young girl, keeping his eyes focused on the
stage as if it were calling to him.

He shook his head. "I'm meeting someone. I'll just
sit at the bar until she gets here. Is there a band playing
tonight?"

The hostess gave a brief glance over her shoulder
toward the stage. "Only on the weekends."

"Do you think the manager would mind if I played a
short set while I wait?"

With raised brows, she eyed him up and down.
Brock wanted to laugh. She probably thought he was a
vagrant looking to play for a meal. He liked the idea of
no one knowing him, coming into a bar and just playing for fun.

He couldn't imagine a day when he wouldn't be able
to walk these streets without being recognized, without someone snapping his picture or asking for his autograph. But if success followed on the heels of their
success at the Wild Horse Saloon, it would happen.

Right now, Brock was just happy that the world
didn't know his name or face yet.

"Uh, you'll have to talk to the manager about something like that. He's usually pretty fussy about who performs here."

She motioned for him to an empty stool at the bar
before disappearing for a moment. Inside of a minute,
she resurfaced at the end of the bar with a man and
pointed to Brock. Through the haze, he saw the manager look him over pointedly. The white noise of idle
chatter and laughter made it impossible to hear what he
was saying, although from the look on his face, Brock
guessed he'd drawn the same conclusion as the hostess.

The manager stalked over to where he was sitting.
"You asked to see me?"

"Mind if I borrow a guitar? I'm waiting on a friend
and thought I'd play for a while." He motioned with his
thumb out the door. "My band and I are staying at a
hotel just up the street."

The manager shifted his jaw to one side and scrutinized Brock in a sidelong glance. "How do I know
you're any good? You might drive away my customers."

"I just finished a gig at the Wild Horse Saloon and
feel like playing for a small crowd tonight, is all. I tell
you what. Let me play one song and if the crowd
doesn't mind I'll keep going. Sound fair?"

The man shrugged. "Wild Horse Saloon, huh?
Knock yourself out. Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. Like I said, I'm expecting a friend to come
by in a bit."

"When you're done, take a look at the menu." He
waved a waitress over. "It's on the house," he called to
the waitress over the noise. She nodded and then went
back to her paying customers.

Brock knew he could have easily played his guitar
alone in his hotel room until it was time to meet Josie.
But back at the hotel, he wouldn't hear the hum of the
room or feel the intimacy of sharing his music. That's
all he'd wanted his whole life. He didn't need to be a
star. He just wanted to play.

Within minutes of getting the manager's approval,
Brock was climbing onto the stage. He was worlds
away from the panic he'd felt the other night at the Wild
Horse. The crowd wasn't interested in him or what he
was doing. They were talking, laughing, and enjoying
their dinners. He was just in the background, part of the
wallpaper. They didn't know his name and quite
frankly, Brock didn't care. If they enjoyed the music
while they ate their dinners and had a few drinks, that
was fine by him.

Brock selfishly played for himself tonight.

With the first strum of the guitar, he tuned out the
chatter of the crowd and sang the song he'd written for
Josie, knowing she couldn't hear him. Still, he kept his
eyes fixed on the door, waiting for her to appear.

Josie's stomach growled as she stood outside the
small pub at the end of Main Street. She was hungry
and tired from searching all day for apartments and
couldn't wait to tell Brock about the new place she'd
found.

She needed his comfort too. Getting Dexter settled in a local shelter had been harder on her than on the cat.
As her faithful companion had been placed in the kennel, Josie felt like her arms were being ripped from her
body. But now that she'd found a nice apartment, Dex
would be coming home to whatever home she created
soon.

A small group of people bustled through the door to
the street. She waited for them to exit the pub before
making her way inside. Before she even had a chance
to enter, however, she heard Brock's voice over the
microphone.

Brock was gone for good.

A tear trickled down her cheek as she watched from
the front of the pub to the stage beyond the dinner
crowd. He stood on the stage, playing his songs like
she'd never heard them played before. The raw emotion
with which he sang each word was lost to the people
sitting at the tables having their dinner. He was alone
and Josie was sure he hadn't seen her yet. She longed
to rush right up to the stage to tell him the words she
couldn't say before. She loved him.

But the sadness in his voice, the torment in his eyes
told her a story the words of his song didn't. He hadn't
been successful getting the record company to agree to
keep her on and it was eating at him.

She wasn't running. Not this time. Her appetite suddenly gone, she waved to Brock to get his attention as
the song wound down. His smile was bittersweet.

"When are you leaving?" she asked as they met in
the middle of the pub.

Brock reached up and touched her face. "Tomorrow."

The console was bigger and newer than the one she'd
been used to at DB Sound. There was no duct tape covering the splits in the padding or any makeshift speakers. This studio was state of the art for serious business.
The fine wood panels gave the room a light and airy
feeling. Josie thought of all the music stars who'd stood
on the other side of the glass wall and sang the hit
songs she'd heard on the radio since she'd been a child.

She'd gotten what she'd wanted. She'd made it to
Nashville. No matter how angry her mother had been
with her for leaving, Josie knew she'd be proud to know
she'd made her dreams come true. She only had one
regret left and that was that her mother would never
know Josie's success.

Regardless of whether her mother could remember
her or not, Josie decided it was time to remember her
roots. She'd be moving into her new apartment over the
weekend. Dex could come out of the kennel and would
protest only slightly until he became acclimated to his
new home. But after that, she'd arrange for monthly
trips to Texas to visit her mother.

She'd thought of moving her mother to a facility in
Nashville, but after years of being at her present nursing home, she'd made friends with the nurses and other
patients. It wouldn't be fair to selfishly want to have her
in Nashville just to make it convenient for Josie to visit.

But even though her mother didn't remember Josie
as her daughter, it was important for her to establish a
new relationship. Josie was determined to be there for
her mother in any capacity she could.

"Can I help you?"

Josie turned to find a man coming into the studio. He was old enough to be her grandfather, with a kind face
and a big smile. How different it would be to work in a
place like this.