Nashville by Heart: A Novel (3 page)

“What
happened?” Tasha tied the straps of her Sweetest Tea Café apron and handed
Gillian hers. “Did he come on to you? He used to have a reputation, you know. I
would’ve been more than happy if he’d made a pass at me.”

“No,
not exactly.” But then she thought about how he’d held her hand when he
probably should’ve let go, not that she’d pulled away either, and the lingering
way he’d looked at her.

“Well,”
she said. “For a minute I thought he might ask me out if I wasn’t there looking
for an agent.”

“You
drove him crazy in those sexy high heels, didn’t you?”

Gillian
laughed. Maybe that’s all it was. She might be naïve about some things, having
grown up in a small town, but she wasn’t stupid. Will Adams had been attracted
to her, but it probably was the shoes. And the length of her skirt. And maybe
the shirt too. There’s no way it could’ve simply been because of her
mesmerizing personality. She’d realized too late that dressing in a way that
made some girls look classy made her look like a tart. Obviously he’d been
attracted.

“I
made a fool of myself,” Gillian said, doubting Will Adams would have a hard
time pulling his eyes away once he saw her dressed like her normal, plain
self—if he ever saw her again at all. Now that she was away from Music Row, the
magical hope that had followed her on the bus trip back had evaporated into
anxiety.

“A
fool? How?”

Gillian
pointed at her eyes. “Look at my face.”

“Not
a good color for you,” Tasha said. “Just being honest.”

“You
could’ve told me that this morning when you said I looked fancy.”

“Sorry,
bad lighting in our apartment, but you did look fancy.”

Gillian
sighed. “So the big question is, does he want to talk about my singing? Or does
he just want to see me in those high heels again?”

“Maybe
both,” Tasha said.

Gillian
rolled her eyes.

“Listen,
honey. Who cares? Right now you don’t really have a horse in the race, do you?”

“You
know I don’t,” Gillian said, her face softening.

“Then
onward and upward. Be glad he noticed you at all.”

Happy-go-lucky
Tasha always knew how to put things in perspective. In the time Gillian had
known her, she’d made a lot of the big worries seem small. They’d been
roommates since Gillian answered an ad in the newspaper: ASPIRING FEMALE MUSIC
ARTIST SEEKING LIKE-MINDED FEMALE ROOMMATE.

She
wasn’t sure how like-minded they were, besides both being aspiring singers, but
Tasha’s no-holds-barred city girl personality hadn’t clashed with Gillian’s
small-town girl sensibilities as much as one might expect. She couldn’t have
asked for a better roommate. Plus, Tasha had gotten Gillian a job at The
Sweetest Tea Café. She owed her the world for that alone.

Tasha
plucked a pen from the checkout counter.

“So,
then what?”

“So,
then he asked me to meet him for sushi and to talk about music—and I said
maybe.”

“Who
eats sushi?” Tasha shuddered in her slightly too-snug waitress uniform, making
her curly brown ponytail swish. Apparently dislike of sushi was on their short
list of like-minded ideas, which was a good thing. Neither one of them could
afford sushi anyway.

“Wait
a minute.” Tasha arched her penciled-in brows. “You told him
maybe
?”

“I
know. I’m an idiot.”

“Well,
that’s an idiotic answer even if you don’t like sushi, girl! Will Adams could
make or break your career.”

Gillian’s
heart dropped to the linoleum floor as the ridiculousness of it sank in. He
didn’t seem like the type to break someone’s career, she thought, remembering
how he’d gently steadied her in the lobby, but he was probably just being nice.

“I
agreed to meet with him,” she said. “But not for sushi.”

“So
you’re going on a date?”

“To
talk about music.”

“Lucky
you,” Tasha said. “I’d go out with him even if he didn’t want to talk about
music. He
is
easy on the eyes, don’t you think?” She waggled her
eyebrows.

“Totally
hot.” Gillian, in fact, hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him towering
over her—even next to her height—with those strong shoulders and piercing, but
kind, eyes. The ridiculous swirl of excitement in her chest hadn’t gone away
after leaving Adams Music, and it wasn’t only about the chance to sign as a
client with him either. He was sexy, intensely attractive, and wildly
confident. In fact, he was exactly the kind of man her momma had warned her
about. And after her last relationship, she wanted to avoid anyone likely to
break her heart.

“He’s
hot,” she reiterated. “But you know my rule.”

“Oh
sure.” Tasha rolled her eyes. “No time for men until you’ve got a record deal,
but at the rate music deals are being handed out, you might be deal-less
and
man-less forever if you don’t at least use what your momma gave you.”

Gillian
knew Tasha meant well, but she’d used what her momma gave her to get noticed at
her cancelled meeting today, and while Tasha might’ve been able to pull it off
with her playful personality, it’d made her feel cheap when Josie looked her up
and down.

“You
aren’t me,” Gillian said, reaching for the coffee pot. “Your mom has been
married for thirty years. You don’t know how bad men can be. I’d probably be
wise to avoid him any other way except as an agent.”

“Well,
your momma got to have you out of whatever happened in her relationship, so I
don’t see how it was all that bad.”

Gillian
sighed. She didn’t know where her dad was right now. He might even be in
Nashville, but he’d given her up completely when he’d left her mother and her
own musical dreams in Gold Creek Gap. And then there was Robert, whom she’d met
in Nashville her first year. He’d turned out to be just like her dad. Momma had
been right about him too.

“Momma
knows how Nashville is.”

“Was,”
Tasha corrected. “No disrespect to your sweet momma, honey, but she was here trying
to make it more than twenty-five years ago, right?”

“Some
things don’t change,” Gillian said. “Like men.” Last she’d heard, her ex was
still making his rounds among the Nashville starlets, like her dad had done.
And to think she’d entertained the idea of marrying Robert.

Tasha
shook her head. “Oh yeah. Men are so evil, since the beginning of time. They
might tempt you to do something wild, like fall in love, get married and…” She
gasped, mockingly. “Heaven forbid—have a posse of kids and distract you from
pursuing the elusive music contract.”

“You
make it sound like a crazy dream, but yeah, something like that.” Gillian gave
a little laugh.

Tasha
shook her head. “Loretta Lynn didn’t let all those kids stop her. Nobody says
you have to fall in love, but it’d be OK to let a man take you out to a real
dinner, especially a rich one like Will Adams—just maybe not for sushi.”

“I’d
even have sushi if it meant a free meal,” commented another waitress as she
breezed past them.

“I
rest my case,” Tasha said. “And don’t worry if it’s a date or business.”

Gillian
said nothing, but shuddered remembering the few dates she’d gone on when she
first got to Nashville, before she met Robert. She’d been homesick and had no
friends, so she’d let Tasha drag her out to the honky-tonks. The men she met
had all been as dumb as fence posts and didn’t even hide what they were after.
When she wouldn’t sleep with them, they said things like, “But I took you to
dinner!” or “I bought you a beer!” And Gillian’s favorite, “But I know the head
of a record label. I can get you in. Just slide on over here, sweetheart.” Ugh.

Patting
her apron pockets, Gillian checked for the order pad and pen, even though she
rarely used them, so accustomed was she to taking orders by heart. And it was
her heart, as well as her goal of getting a record deal, that she needed to
protect. She’d almost forgotten to keep her guard up. No matter how adorable
Will Adams was, she’d do well to remember her plan. She’d learned while growing
up in Gold Creek Gap that men tied you down to home, stole your dreams and then
left. She vividly remembered how she’d begged her songwriter dad to take her
along on his monthly drives to Nashville. Then one time, he’d hugged her a
little bit longer than normal, and never came back.

“Maybe
Will Adams wasn’t serious about meeting at all,” she said, wondering if she’d
misunderstood again. “He is a man. He’ll probably stand me up.”

“He
might,” Tasha said. “But then again, what if he doesn’t? May be your big
break.”

“I
hope you’re right,” Gillian said. “Onward and hopefully upward, right?”

She
moved toward her assigned table section to pour coffee while Tasha headed for
the VIP room. Gillian would usually kill to serve all the important locals, but
today she wanted to be around regular people.

The
café’s owner, June, paused beside her. “Hey, honey. I heard about the meeting.”

“Already?
No secrets in this place.”

“No,
there aren’t, but if Will wants to talk to you again, that’s huge.” She smiled
her trademark red lipstick grin. That was how to wear red lipstick, Gillian
noted. Not the way she’d worn it earlier that day.

“I
think he felt sorry for me,” she said.

June
dismissed the comment with a flick of her wrist. “Men like Will Adams don’t
have time for meetings because they feel sorry for you. You’ve got to believe
in yourself.”

“I’m
trying,” Gillian said.

“Well,
keep trying,” June said. “I’ve seen a lot of girls go home, and I’ve seen some
make it too. I think you’ve got what it takes, sugar.”

“Thanks.”
Gillian ducked to hide the blush of her cheeks, truly touched that June
believed in her. June was probably on the younger side of thirty, looked like a
star herself and knew everything about Nashville, particularly the music
industry. Everyone who was anyone came to her restaurant, and she treated them
like royalty. She even gave the true country music royals their own room to
dine in. She treated regular people the exact same way.

“Oh,
while I’m thinking about it,” June said. “We’re gonna have a lot of leftovers
tonight. You girls don’t forget to dish up a bunch and take ’em home. I don’t
like throwing away food.”

“That’d
be great. Thank you.” And Gillian meant it. After the money she’d spent on the
bus fare and the new outfit she’d bought for her failed meeting with Will
Adams, she didn’t know if she had enough change left to stock her half of the
fridge. Grateful, she hastened to get coffee for the customers.

She
was so busy that the next half hour passed quickly. When the bell above the
door jingled, she glanced up to see if anyone was available to help the waiting
customers.

“Oh,
shoot.” There in the doorway was Will Adams and his next big thing, Audrey.
Audrey was looking gorgeous, all curly blond hair, denim and boots. Gillian
wanted to duck, but that would be silly, so she stood holding her coffee pot in
one hand, frozen. Luckily, Will Adams’ gaze passed right over her. She must not
have been recognizable with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing a
blue fifties-style waitress dress.

When
another waitress greeted the pair, Gillian breathed a sigh of relief. The
morning had been crazy enough with the high heels and lipstick. The last thing
she wanted for the next time he saw her was to be dressed like the 1950s. Next
time she wanted to look like herself, but as she made a move to pour coffee for
someone, she realized it was too late. She overfilled the coffee cup, causing a
commotion of clattering dishes, spoons and apologies. She pulled a cloth from
her apron and mopped up the mess, and when she glanced up, Will’s eyes were
resting on hers. He smiled.

Without
thinking, she smiled back and ridiculously held the coffee pot up in a kind of
salute. His smile widened, and for a second he looked like he might be about to
head her way, but Audrey popped back through the curtain, laced her arm through
his, and they were gone, the curtain swinging closed behind them.

“I’m
so sorry,” Gillian told the man whose coffee she spilled. “I’ll give you more
coffee.”

Trying
to forget that Will was seated in the very next room, Gillian paid special
attention to her customers, even scrubbing a few of the tabletops for the
overwhelmed busboys.

“Don’t
take the Formica off,” Tasha said a few minutes later. “I need you to trade me
places.”

“Why?”
But Gillian knew why.

“You
need to be waiting on Will Adams,” she hissed. “I heard him talking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yes,
you, Sherlock.” Tasha rattled off Will’s order. “Now go and tell him about
tonight at The Blue Fiddle.”

“Oh
my gosh!” Gillian slapped the side of her head with the rag.

“Gross,”
Tasha said, snatching the rag away. “You know what that rag has wiped up?”