Nashville by Heart: A Novel (4 page)

Gillian
laughed, grabbing a clean towel and wiping at the side of her face.

“This
day is so wild. I don’t even know what I’m doing. My mind is racing.”

“Well,
I don’t think Marv would like you forgetting about The Blue Fiddle,” Tasha
said. “You’d better readjust your brain. And go in the VIP room and get your
man.”

“My
agent,” Gillian corrected.

“Whatever.
Just go get him.”

Gillian
smiled, still nervous, but empowered. She’d almost forgotten about her
performance that night at The Blue Fiddle, where she waitressed nights with
Tasha. She felt so blessed to be a regular opening act for her boss, Marv. Why
hadn’t she told Will Adams about it?

“What
should I say?”

Tasha
smiled. “I took his order, so go back to the kitchen, get it and say with a
smile, here’s your chicken fried steak.”

“Like
it’ll be that easy. I’ll probably spill his coffee like I did to that poor man
earlier.”

“It
will be easy. Trust me.”

Gillian
headed toward the kitchen, rehearsing what she’d say under her breath.

“Hi.
Here’s your chicken fried steak. And would you like to watch me sing tonight?”

“I’d
love to,” a pimple-faced young man sitting at a table of men called out.

She
paused and laughed at herself. She obviously hadn’t been as quiet as she
thought. The boy, who was a regular customer, grinned.

“Where
are you singing, sweetheart?” He tried to look taller.

She
adopted a motherly voice. “You have to be twenty-one to go, sweetheart.”

His
shoulders sagged, but he still smiled as his older friends guffawed and slapped
his back.

“Well,
good luck!” he called, blushing. “You’ll be great.”

“Why,
thank you, honey.” She walked back and filled his coffee cup a little bit more,
hoping that he was right.

Seeing
Gillian Heart at The Sweetest Tea Café froze Will in his tracks. She looked a
lot different than when he’d met her that morning in the lobby of his office.

“Well,
I’ll be damned.”

The
waitress outfit was cute, but heck, he would’ve felt the same jolt of
attraction no matter what she had on. And that voice he’d heard on the CD. It
was a lot bigger than one would expect from someone like her, and it excited
him as much as her looks. He was already picturing her as a fresh-faced, small
town girl with a guitar—
more denim and pearls than leather and lace
, he
thought.

“Who’s
she?” Audrey wanted to know.

Will
tore his eyes away. “That’s Gillian Heart.”

He
gave Audrey the short version of their cancelled meeting as they slid into
their booth.

“It’s
not like you to see amateurs,” she said, clicking her pink manicured nails on
the Formica tabletop.

He
studied Audrey. It wasn’t like her to be threatened by a potential client.

“I
felt bad about cancelling her meeting at the last minute.”

“There
must be something about her you liked. I can’t imagine you wasting your time
otherwise.” Audrey smiled at the waitress who took their order. “Can I get some
cream, sweetie?”

The
waitress disappeared.

“I
was intrigued,” he said, speaking a little louder over the rattle of dishes and
customer chatter.

“I
bet that’s what you were,” Audrey said. “Intrigued.”

“Like
when I first heard you sing.” He was ready to change the subject. “Speaking of
which, we have lots to talk about.”

She
gave him her already famous smile, and it filled him with hope. He took a lot
of satisfaction in the fact that he’d discovered Audrey, and even though she
could be demanding, she was on her way up the charts, and fast. His percentage
from her music earnings could get the agency back on track in a short time, if
he kept her happy and did his job right.

Still
smiling, Audrey leaned heavily on the table. “Can I finish at least one cup of
coffee before we talk shop? I’m exhausted from the show last night.”

“And
you were amazing,” he said, and meant it. The event had been sold out, and the
audience had loved her. It was all good for Audrey and for Adams Music. The
business had been struggling ever since he lost his biggest band over a
falling-out about money. It always happened that way. Music artists were happy
to give their agent a percentage of profits when they were starting out, but
when they made it huge, some of them started resenting the agent’s cut. Will’s
policy to that end was to cut those kinds of clients loose, even if it hit his
bottom line hard for a while. The problem was, it was still hitting the bottom
line hard.

“I
used to work here,” Audrey said, casting her eyes around the room.

“You
never told me that.”

She
shrugged. “It was just a job. A good job though. June’s a peach. Your girl’s
lucky to have it.”

“She’s
not my girl,” he corrected, wishing she were. “And she’s not my client, yet.”
But secretly, Will hoped she’d turn out to be as great as the picture he’d
formed in his mind. Gillian had potential as a client. As far as the rest,
well, it didn’t matter since his clients were off-limits.

Their
waitress returned with a small white pitcher.

He
looked at Audrey. She was pouting now, and his patience was worn thin. Still,
he smiled like a professional.

“What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He
decided to approach the topic with a bit of teasing. “You aren’t jealous of
Gillian Heart, are you?”

She
looked surprised. “Of course not. Why’d I be jealous of a little waitress?” She
tipped the pitcher of cream into her coffee.

“Good,
because I thought I might introduce you to her sometime.”

She
narrowed her eyes. “Was her demo really that good?”

“The
recording is amateurish, but her voice is amazing.”

Audrey
set her coffee cup down. “Amazing? Well, can I hear it?”

“Sure,
but you’re gonna need a CD player.”

She
looked incredulous. “Old school, huh?”

“So
it seems.”

“Well
you’re always saying how you’re old school deep down, right? I want to hear her
for myself then.”

“I
was hoping you’d say that. And if you like her, maybe you could take her under
your wing.”

“If
you sign her.”

“Right.”

“I’m
awfully busy,” she said. “But I guess I could do that—for you.”

Will
looked around for a waitress, ready to eat his late breakfast. He was starving.

“Well
now,” Audrey said in a sing-song voice. “Isn’t this the little songbird
waitress you were telling me about, Will?”

Taken
aback, he glanced up to see a different waitress: Gillian Heart, holding a
coffee pot, her green eyes sparkling and a small smile on her face. Shoot, she
was gorgeous.

“Refill?”

“Hello,
Ms. Heart. And please.” Will leaned back to let her lean in to pour coffee. He
noticed she was smaller without high heels, but still on the tall side. He
liked that.

“Audrey,”
he said. “I want you to meet Gillian Heart.”

Will
was glad to see Audrey offer Gillian a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Gillian.
You been here long, honey? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Three
years,” Gillian answered.

“Well,
surely you’ve sang somewhere, besides on that CD Will just told me about.”

Will
felt a bit sorry for Gillian when her cheeks flushed.

“I’m
singing at The Blue Fiddle tonight,” she said.

“Will,”
Audrey said. “We have to go hear this songbird tonight, don’t we?”

Will
leaned forward on his elbows. “We’ll be there.”

“Great,”
Gillian said. She stood, frozen it seemed, for a few long seconds, then her
eyes widened. “Oh! I’d better get your food.”

Will
tried not to watch as she hurried off toward the kitchen, but he couldn’t help
noticing the bounce in her step as she disappeared through the curtain.

“She’s
a doll,” Audrey said. Will looked up, hoping his face didn’t show the allure he
felt toward Gillian Heart.

“She’s
cute,” he said. “I just hope she’s good on stage tonight.”

“She’s
more than cute,” Audrey said. “Too bad you don’t date clients.”

He
managed to maintain a straight face. Audrey, like everyone in country music,
knew about his past. He hadn’t done everything that was rumored, but he had
dated a client before. Everyone was pretty accepting of the relationship at
first, touting them as the new sweethearts of country music, but showbiz took
its toll on their relationship. They’d both done stupid things to the other,
and the day she’d left Nashville was the day Will had promised himself to
never, ever date another client.

“Ah,
honey,” Audrey said. “You’re done for.”

Ignoring
her, he slurped his coffee, but it wasn’t hot enough to burn away his desire to
see Gillian again, no matter what his rules, since as soon as she arrived with
his meal, he promptly spilled half the coffee in his lap.

“Oh!”
she exclaimed, pulling a towel from her waist. “I’m such a klutz today.”

“No,
it was me,” Will said.

She
reached like she was going to dab his lap, which made him stiffen and his face
flush. She paused, apparently having second thoughts, and handed him the towel.
Across from him, Audrey giggled.

“I’ll
grab some more coffee,” Gillian said. He was pretty sure she was fighting a
grin as she spun on her heels and strode away.

“Holy
crap,” he said, dabbing his lap, then slapping the towel onto the table. Audrey
was staring at him with that ridiculous smile.

“What?”
he demanded, hating that his face still felt warm, which meant he was blushing
like a fifteen-year-old boy. “Is something funny?”

She
shrugged, her smile only growing broader.

“Like
I said, honey. You’re done for.”

Gillian
liked how The Blue Fiddle had that historic look typical of honky-tonks on
Lower Broadway. She and Tasha had both landed a job there working nights, and
between there and The Sweetest Tea, they managed to pay rent. But the best part
about working at The Blue Fiddle was the chance to sing in front of a real
audience. Tonight was Gillian’s night.

Wishing
she hadn’t eaten that piece of meatloaf for lunch, she lay her apron on the bar
and headed toward the stage. Just as she reached for her guitar, Will walked
in. Her heart leapt when he smiled and gave her a little salute. Audrey
followed close behind, and the two found a table toward the back. Gillian had
the distinct feeling she needed to impress Audrey as much as Will. For a
moment, she fiddled with the strap on her guitar and strummed a few chords. She
was stalling, having tuned her guitar earlier.

Someone
clapped. “Let’s hear it, sugar!” Gillian thought it was Tasha.

Her
stomach fluttered. It didn’t get much better for someone like her to stand on
the wood planks of that low stage, the window lit with neon signs behind her,
the dance floor framed by the long, shiny oak bar, and the rustic brick walls
lined with autographed photos and a mismatched collection of fiddles.

She
smiled at the crowd, hoping for a panicked split second that nothing was
hanging from her nose. At least her outfit looked better than both of the ones
Will had seen earlier that day. Tonight, she was all country, dressed in her
favorite jeans with the rhinestone pockets, the same boots she’d been wearing
back when she first stepped off the bus, and a simple thin-strapped pink blouse
that flowed just past her waist. Her hair was down and her makeup no longer
dramatic, although she wore darker lipstick because of the dim lighting.

“Ladies
and gentlemen, please welcome the beautiful and talented Miss Gillian Heart!”

The
lights dimmed, and a lone spotlight curved on the floor in front of her. She
was unable to make out the faces just outside the light, but she knew they were
there as she crooned her favorite Patsy Cline song,
Crazy
. She knew it
was another cliché, like everything else she’d done since she’d arrived in the
city, but everyone in Nashville loves Patsy. Besides, it was appropriate for
this moment. She felt like she’d go crazy if Will decided to sign her.

Taking
a calming breath like her momma taught her, she waited for the room to fade
away in her mind until it was just her, the stage and the echoes of Patsy,
Loretta and all the other country women who’d paved the way for her. Yes,
for
me
, she thought. That’s what she told herself every night, to keep from
giving up. And she sang.

She
sang her heart out, not sure if she sounded any good at all, but praying she
did. Finally, she strummed the last chord, eyes closed, and for several seconds
there wasn’t a sound in the room, not even from the bar.

Had
she been flat?

Then
a slow, loud clap came from the back of the room, and the rest of the crowd
joined in. Hoots and hollers begged for more, so she sang them two additional
songs. It was all she was allowed to do before the
real
act came out.

After
her last song, there was more applause, accompanied by groans of disappointment
when the audience saw her setting her guitar in its stand. She gave people a
few minutes to come up to the stage and talk with her, surreptitiously scanning
the crowd for Will. Several people passed by the stage, pulling bills from
their pockets and stuffing them in the tip jar, or offering a word of praise,
but no Will Adams.

“Wow,”
she said to Tasha when they counted out the bills.

“You
deserve it, girl.”

“I’m
going to buy us dinner,” Gillian said. “After we pay rent.”

“You
don’t have to do that,” Tasha said.

“I
do, because I’m sick of macaroni and cheese.”

Some
days, she was never gladder to be in Nashville, but there were times when she
felt like hanging up her hat and going back to Gold Creek Gap, where her momma
would make her a real meal and she’d have a comfortable mattress. Even her
dinky twin bed in Momma’s little trailer house was more comfortable than the
creaky box springs in her apartment.

The
bartender called to Gillian. “Hey, Patsy, I need you to take tables six through
ten tonight, OK?”

“Why?”
She caught a sad look from Tasha.

“Because
Jenny’s gone.”

“Gone
where?” Gillian asked in a lowered voice when she passed Tasha carrying a full
tray of drinks.

“Poor
thing went home. She ran out of money and probably out of willpower too.” Tasha
didn’t say she gave up, because everyone there understood the hardship of
trying to make it in Nashville.

“But
I liked Jenny.”

“Yeah,
me too, but who can blame her?” Tasha asked. “Don’t
you
ever think about
leaving?”

“Sometimes.”
Gillian couldn’t lie. She’d just been thinking about home, but she wasn’t ready
to go home permanently. “Do you?”

“Yeah,
every damn day.”

“But
you’re still here.”

Tasha
shrugged. “And so are you.”

Gillian
had promised her mom, and herself, that she’d give it plenty of time, and she
wasn’t ready to go back to teaching small town guitar lessons to little kids
and singing in the church choir. Not that she didn’t enjoy those things, but
her dreams were bigger than Gold Creek Gap. And that’s why she hoped tonight
might be her big break. She scanned the room, looking for Will Adams. Her gaze
rested on the back table.

A
small earthquake rumbled in Gillian’s chest. “Do you see him?”

“Who
doesn’t?” Tasha asked, moving off to deliver her drinks.

Will
and Audrey sat at one of her assigned tables, so taking a deep breath, she
headed their way. He was sitting with his lanky legs sheathed in
expensive-looking jeans and boots stretched out in front of him. His gaze
scanned the room and landed on her as she approached. He smiled, sending
Gillian’s heart into a frenzy.

The
man radiated masculinity by doing nothing at all. Be professional, she reminded
herself, but dang, he was attractive with that slightly scruffy look of his.
His pepper-streaked blond hair was just long enough to be disheveled, but short
enough to be professional in a country-music sort of way, and no skinny jeans,
thank heavens. His black starched shirt with its pearl snap buttons down the
front was loose, as if he’d untucked it after a long day, and his black western
boots had lost some of the shine Gillian fancied must have been there that
morning. She knew Will’s type. He was a workaholic to be sure, but that was
probably why he was one of the best.

“Hey,”
she said, forcing herself to turn and look at Audrey. “Hi, Audrey. Thanks, both
of you, for coming.”

“Darlin’,”
Will said, “can you please do that again?”

Gillian’s
pulse rushed a lot faster than it should have when he rested his elbows on the
table to peer at her, the intense blue of his eyes drawing her in, her heart
fluttering and completely oblivious to the warning signals in her brain.

“What
he means,” Audrey said, “is that you have a great voice.”

A
flush of pride spread across her cheeks, igniting a flame of hope for her music
career, along with a heat wave of a different kind that swept through her body.
The last part, she chose to ignore.

Be
professional, she reminded herself again, but what she really wanted to do was
flirt.

“Nice
of you to say,” Gillian said, attempting to sound normal. “What will the two of
you have to drink?”

“He’ll
have a beer, and I’ll have a deluxe margarita on the rocks—on his tab.” Audrey
winked at Gillian.

“I’ll
be right back.” She turned, but stopped when she felt Will’s hand on her arm.

“Please
call Josie first thing in the morning. I can’t wait for lunch. We need to talk
soon.”

Letting
go of her, he pulled out his card and asked for a pen. Her hands were shaking,
but she managed to hand him one.

“If
Josie doesn’t answer, call this number. It’s my personal cell.”

Gillian
flushed when she noted Audrey’s raised eyebrows.

“Congratulations,
honey,” Audrey said. “Not everyone gets Will’s private cell.”

“Thank
you,” Gillian said, doing her best not to clutch the card to her chest and do a
happy dance. “Thank you so much.”

“You
have a beautiful voice,” Audrey said. “I’m almost jealous.”

“I’ll
be right back with your drinks.” She rushed back to the bar where Tasha was
waiting.

“Well?”

“I’m
supposed to go into his office tomorrow.”

Tasha
grabbed her hands. The two squealed.

~~~~

When
Gillian delivered the drinks, a new person was with them.

“Gillian,
meet Mitch Brewster. He’s another music agent.” She had heard of him.

“Gorgeous
voice,” he said. “And you, you are beautiful.” Gillian gave him a bemused look.
Mitch was already half lit.

“What
can I get you?” she asked.

He
rattled off his order and then handed Gillian his business card. Will Adams
gave his buddy a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“Mitch,
you can’t sign this girl.”

“Why?
She’s amazing.”

“I
found her first,” Will said. Gillian glanced at Audrey, who was simply shaking
her head.

“Ignore
them both,” Audrey said. “Sign with who you want to. Just remember, they’re
going to be working for you.” She cast a meaningful look from Mitch to Will.

“Sign
with me,” Mitch said. He grabbed her free hand, wrapping his sweaty fingers
around hers. “Where’d you get those pipes anyway, sugar?”

Gillian
had always heard that gentlemen were everywhere in country music, but when she
actually got to Nashville and started waiting tables, it didn’t take long to
learn that jerks were everywhere, even in country music.

She
pulled her hand free. “Just give me a beer, sweetheart. We can talk when you
get back.” He rested his hand low on Gillian’s hip. She was about to whip him
with her towel when Will Adams’ hand shot out and grabbed his friend by the
wrist.

“That’s
no way to treat a lady, Mitch.” He smiled apologetically at Gillian. “Sorry
about that. Bring him a coffee, please. He’s already drunk. It’s been a long
day for both of us.”

That
man was the reason she didn’t date men in Nashville any more. So many of them
were either cads, or they were off-limits, like Will Adams. She’d learned the
hard way from seeing her dad leave her mom—and her—not to get attached to music
people. But good gravy, Will Adams was the kind of man who might change her
mind.

As
she approached the bar, she rattled off the Mitch guy’s order and waited for
the bartender to fill a cup with coffee.

“I’m
sorry about my friend.”

She
whirled around to see Will, standing close to the bar. The attraction crackled
like the static electricity in her grade school science experiment. It left her
feeling restless. She felt like yanking her apron off and pulling Will Adams
out onto the dance floor.

“You
can really sing.”

Gillian
suddenly understood why women swooned in old romantic movies. His smile made
her feel light-headed.

“Thank
you.” She picked up the coffee.

“I’ll
take that to Mitch,” Will said.

“Thanks,”
she said, grateful.

“Until
tomorrow,” he said, grinning. She added his eyes to the growing list of things
she would have to resist about him if he became her agent.

“Tomorrow,”
she said, pretending to be calm, even though she was trembling all over.

He
smiled, and she got the feeling he was thinking similar thoughts. If they
signed together, they might never get a chance to explore the sparks between
them.

“You
two are hot,” Tasha said.

Gillian
grinned. “I think I agree, but I want a record deal, not sparks.”

“You
clearly want more than sparks with Will Adams,” she teased. “It’s totally
obvious.”

Gillian
thought Tasha was right, though sparks rarely led to anything but getting
burned, which she had experienced first-hand. When she finally did find the
right man, she’d want even more than sparks. The truth? She wanted love, but
she wanted her music career first. And when love finally happened, she didn’t
want it with someone like Will Adams, no matter how he rocked her to her core.

~~~~

Will
handed Mitch the coffee and sat next to Audrey.

“She’s
gonna be hot,” Audrey said.

She
already is
were
the words on the tip of his tongue as he remembered the sweet scent of her
perfume and the lingering aroma of sweetened coffee on her breath.