Nashville by Heart: A Novel (7 page)

Where
The Blue Fiddle was quaint with its regular honky-tonk crowd and cozy
atmosphere, The Steel Spur was all lights and plenty of action. On any given
night it was packed with tourists and locals alike, and the only acts they let
on were the best and surely headed for the charts. Gillian could hardly believe
she was getting to perform!

“Heavens
to Betsy,” she said. “I’m so nervous.” As she waited behind the curtains, Will
placed a hand on the small of her back. She took a deep breath.

“You’ll
do fine.”

She
drew strength from the pressure of his hands as they massaged up her back and
gripped her shoulders.

“You’ve
worked hard for this, darlin’.”

“You’re
going to have to stop calling me darlin’,” she teased, just to get her mind off
her butterflies. Maybe it was the way he leaned in close enough that she could
smell his cologne, but she remembered something Audrey had said to her one day
as she was going over her set. Audrey had been giving her pointers about the
music, but she’d also been giving her some other tips.

“Don’t
do anything to invite gossip,” Audrey had said, her face serious. Gillian
wondered if Audrey thought she had dibs on Will or something.

Audrey
must have read her mind because she’d laughed. “Heavens no, doll. It’s not that
way between Will and me. I’ve got a man.”

Gillian
had been unable to explain her relief.

“Look,
all I’m saying,” Audrey said, “is that neither of you need this town gossiping
about your love lives. He’s been through the wringer already, and while he’s
obviously hot for you, doll, he doesn’t date clients—any more.”

“OK,”
Gillian had told her, but after that, she kept thinking about what Audrey had
said about Will being obviously hot for her. Was it that obvious? And was it
the other way around too? Could people see she was hot for him? The idea made
her smile a bit, when it probably should have made her afraid. The tabloids
could be relentless.

“I’ll
call you darlin’ if I want,” he said. “As long as it’s OK with you.”

“It
is,” she said. “But people might think there’s more between us than agent and
client.” She was no longer teasing.

When
he didn’t say anything, she turned slightly to look at him. His eyes were
intent on her in the dim light.

“Would
that be so bad?” His voice was quiet in her ear.

She
wasn’t sure what to say. Yes. No, of course not. Yes. Heck no, that would be
unprofessional. And yes. A million times yes. He must have mistaken her silence
for an answer.

“Never
mind,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Then,
Gillian heard the announcer say her name.

“Go.”
He gave her a soft nudge. “You’re gonna be a hit, darlin’.”

Gillian
walked into the spotlight, her trusty boots grounding her into the wooden
stage. She stood on the bit of orange tape marking her spot. Will had suggested
over and over that she needed a new pair of boots, but she wanted to wear her
own. She hadn’t told Will they were a gift from her dad. It would’ve sounded
crazy after she’d ranted about wanting nothing to do with him. And she didn’t,
but that didn’t mean she couldn’t miss him, wish he was there or hold memories
of him in her heart.

She’d
worn those boots since she was thirteen, singing the national anthem at dozens
of rodeos,
Amazing Grace
in front of churches and Patsy Cline songs in
her share of talent competitions. They still fit, and it seemed right to be
wearing them at her first big gig, along with the necklace from her momma.

The
big lights blinded her as she cleared her throat and strummed a chord. She
wished she could make out the faces of her friends who promised to be there,
but it was impossible. Even Tasha’s bossy countenance would have been
reassuring.

Realizing
the silence was because everyone was waiting on her, she leaned into the mic
and said hello. It came out as a croak, and the microphone crackled. The lights
dimmed, and her eyes adjusted a little. A few good-natured chuckles come from
the people seated at the numerous tables. Several folks were leaning on the
railings from the balcony.

“Whooo,
Gillian!” The shout broke the strangling silence. Recognizing Tasha’s exuberant
voice, she found herself cracking a smile.

“I’m
pretty sure that was my roommate,” she said, her voice rising in the
microphone. “We’ve got rent to pay, so I’d better get singin’.”

Laughter
and mild applause rippled through the crowd. With that welcoming reverberation,
she leaned closer to the microphone and crooned the first few stanzas of a
song, acapella, drawing it out long and soft before strumming her guitar and
launching into the melody. Behind her, The Steel Spur
band followed
along, the banjo and fiddle players picking out the sounds she herself had
written. The place was alive with music and her own voice, and as the pace
picked up, couples began to fill the wide, shining dance floor.

With
each song, the crowd reacted enthusiastically, which was so much more than
she’d hoped for. After the last song, applause thundered off the walls.

“Goodnight,
y’all!” She waved at them.

The
crowd responded with whistles and hollers, and she had to keep reminding
herself they were cheering for her. When she came off the stage, Will spun her
around and pushed her right back out.

“What
the heck?”

“They
want the encore, darlin’.”

She
walked back up to the microphone and rearranged her guitar. Leaning toward the
mic, she realized this was the first time she’d ever really felt at one with a
crowd.

“I
guess y’all want one more song.”

“We
want ten,” called some cowboy from the back of the room.

“Well,”
she said. “There’s another act after me, but I do have one more for y’all. This
one’s my happy song.”

It
was a silly little song she’d written with her dad when she was only thirteen,
not too long before he left and she’d started writing about broken hearts. She
hadn’t played it for anyone before, so the band had to catch up with her, but
when they did, it was amazing, and she had to admit, she really felt happy in
the moment.

When
she finally exited the stage, Will reached for her, and the intimacy of it
caused musical notes to waltz around in her stomach.

“I’m
so proud of you.” He enveloped her in his arms. She couldn’t find it in herself
to resist him as he gently pulled her against the solidness of his chest, nor
could she rid herself of the thought that maybe holding women in his arms was
something he did often. Now that was a ridiculous thought, she realized. She
had no reason to think of—or care about—his dating or how many women he’d held.
He was simply her manager.

And
yet, in her heart she knew he wasn’t. One thing was for sure though, he was
certainly good at holding a girl in a way that made her want to throw her arms
around his neck. The singer part of her didn’t give a hoot who else he’d held,
but she realized with a start that the woman side of her did.

“Do
you do this to Audrey when she comes off stage?”

“She’d
slap my face.”

Gillian
chuckled. “I was nervous out there.”

“You
crushed it.” Suddenly he was crushing her to his chest in a bear hug. She
laughed, gently extricating herself, even though she didn’t mind being pressed
up against him. Not one little bit.

“Thank
you,” she said. “For tonight, for getting me here, for signing me, for…
everything.”

Before
she could think about what she was doing, she stretched up on the tiptoes of
her boots, plunged one hand through that thick mop of his hair, and planted a
kiss on his cheek. She ached to kiss him firmly on the mouth, but truth be
known, she wished he’d kiss her first, even if he was her music manager. He
seemed to be about to, until a sharp voice penetrated the spell.

“Will
Adams.” The Steel Spur’s
manager was headed their way with his hand
stretched out. Will shook it enthusiastically, and then it was Gillian’s turn.

“What
have I done to deserve an act like you, sugar?”

Gillian
shrugged, deciding to dismiss the fact that even though she was a grown woman
whom he didn’t even know, he’d just referred to her as something used in cakes,
cookies and to sweeten one’s coffee. Deciding he was being sincere, she smiled
primly.

“You
must have been a very good boy?”

Will
smiled approvingly as the man exploded into laughter. “I want you to come back.
We’d like to have more of what we saw tonight.”

“Any
time,” Will answered for her. “Call me, and we’ll set it up.”

The
two men shook on it, then Will took her hand and placed it in the crook of his
arm, walking her to the stage exit and past the dance floor.

“I
can handle everything from here on out. Any time anyone asks you something like
that, just defer to me.”

She
shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to get used to
having an agent.”

“You
probably won’t, but you’ll learn to deal with it.”

“Gillian!”
Tasha and as many of her friends who could get off work grabbed her arms and
ushered her back to a table they’d reserved. They toasted her with clinks and
chugs, making Gillian an emotional wreck. How did she get so lucky?

“You
have a lot of good friends.” Will scanned the group of supporters. Gillian
noted that they were all overly polite to Will. They were no doubt nervous
about who he was, but they warmed up to him. Soon several of them broke off to
hit the dance floor.

She
liked hanging out with Will like this, seeing him relaxed and jovial, not working.
“Are you having fun?”

“Me?
Oh yeah. But this night is about you. Are you having fun?”

“I’d
be having more fun if I were out there.”

“Then
how about a dance, darlin’?” Will held out the crook of his arm. Gillian took
it, casting good-natured warning looks to her friends as they whispered and
giggled like teenagers.

Out
on the dance floor, Will held her at arm’s length, even though she wished he’d
pull her closer—much closer.

“You’re
going be a star,” he said.

“We’ll
see,” she said.

“It
gives them hope, you know.” He nodded to the group gathered around the table in
the back.

“My
friends? Yeah, I guess so.”

“That’s
why they’re so happy for you.”

He
settled in as the lead, his left hand on her hip and his right hand holding
hers gently as they began to two-step to the rhythms of The Steel Spur band.
Will was good, and she followed his movements like they’d danced together
before.

“You
like to lead,” she said, noting his fluid movement, perfect steps and the sure
way he held onto her. His hand rested solidly on her hip, sending little waves
of electricity up her torso.

“I
do. Especially when I’m dancing with a beautiful woman.”

His
compliment found its mark, even though she was sure he was the type who said
that to all the ladies. She was a pretty good dancer in her own right, and the
two of them rocked around the dance floor like they’d been dancing together
forever. After the first spin, the band settled into Gillian’s favorite Darius
Rucker love song, and before she realized it, Will had pulled her close, both
hands on her hips, encouraging her to sway in a rhythm with him. It took very
little encouragement on her side, and the two of them moved in time together.

He
smiled down at her. “You have rhythm.”

“I’m
a musician.”

“It
doesn’t always translate to dancing.” He slowly spun her around and captured
her in his arms again. “That’s all in the body.”

“You’re
not so bad yourself,” she said.

She
caught a tantalizing whiff of his cologne mixed with lingering hints of cigar
smoke and the faintest hint of sweat that filled her senses with the manliness
of it. That probably would’ve sounded funny to say, but after living for years
with her single mom and then rooming with Tasha, she wasn’t accustomed to
having a man around. Inhaling the scent of him, she watched the pulse throb in
his neck. It felt like such a secret thing to see up close how his blood rushed
through his veins. It quickened her own pulse.

He
gazed down at her. “Do you dance often?”

“Hardly
ever. I’m usually so exhausted after I get off work at night, I go home and
binge on Hallmark movies.”

“So
you’re a romantic?” He adjusted his hand comfortably at the curve of her waist.
The chills shivering up her arms were impossible to hide. He responded by
sliding his hand around the small of her back and pulling her a little bit
closer, tucking one of her hands inside of his. Before she could stop it, not
that she wanted to, the space between them completely disappeared. She found
herself more than enjoying the feel of his body against hers, wishing they
could be this way all the time, hating that tomorrow it would probably be back
to business again.