Tate (19 page)

She turned and looked over her shoulder. “I’m speechless.”

“That’s a first,” Dion said, with mock sarcasm.

“At first, I thought I could never live without the green beaded dress, and I think I’m going to end up taking them both, because if I ever saw that dress on someone else I’d be so jealous. It’s stunning. But this…”

She turned again. The light catching her movement caused the sequins to sparkle over her body. “This is stunning. You’ve outdone yourselves on this one. Maisie, with everything that’s been going on, I don’t know how you did it.” Once again, I detected the ‘poor Maisie’ tone in her voice.

“It’s what I do, Ami. I’m glad you like it. Dion bought the bolt of fabric and this is what I saw.”

“I just have to have them both!”

As I walked away with a big smile on my face, my phone rang. “Hey there. I miss you,” I said softly.

“More,” he replied. “How’s it going?”

“Great! Can I call you right back? Five minutes, I swear. Ami’s finishing up her fitting,” I said, loud enough for her to hear.

“Why don’t you make pretty dresses for yourself, Maisie?” she asked with a smug grin as I returned.

How can she go from sweet to bitch that quickly?
I wondered.

“You didn’t think the dress I wore to the CMAs was pretty? I thought it was perfect for me.”

“Yeah, something off the rack.”

“If I’d have made my own dress and the people along the red carpet made the same fuss over it as the one I wore, you’d have been second fiddle to me.” I laughed, but I could feel my claws trying to come out.

“How
is
Tate?”

“Tate is wonderful, happily singing his way across the prairie and the plains.”

“He sure is a pretty boy…” Ami said, dreamily.

“Boy?” Dion chimed in. “There is nothing ‘boy’ about that cowboy. He is man all over the place!” He fanned himself and I had to laugh.

“He’s still pretty,” she said as she walked back in the fitting room. When the door closed, Dion mocked the clawing motion of a cat, and mouthed the word ‘bitch’. I saw April out of the corner of my eye, still taking it all in.

Ami stepped out of the dressing room. “When should I be here for my next fitting?”

“Next week if you’ll do it with me, two if Maisie needs to be here,” Dion replied.

“Why won’t you be here? You’re always here,” she said mockingly.

“Busy girl,” I replied, with a shrug of my shoulders.

“You runnin’ off to see that cowboy?”

“I am. We’re engaged, you know,” I said, and waved my hand so that there was no way she could miss the ring. I felt a satisfied smile pass my lips.

“Busy and lucky. Congrats if I didn’t say so. I’ll see you next week, Dion.”

“I don’t like her one bit,” Dion said after she was out the door. “Phony bitch.” He looked out the window and saw her peel away in a little red sports car.

“That phony bitch pays us well for what we do, so pull your claws back in. I did. April, welcome to the fashion drama. Today was a good day!”

My phone rang and I looked to see that it was Tate. “Sorry! Ami left and I got side tracked. Today was a good day!”

Tate laughed. “I take it she was pleased.”

“More than! She said she had to have both dresses. The fabric for just the one was $189.00 a yard. Cha-ching!” I laughed. “Going to the other room,” I called out to Dion.

“To do some sexay talk. Helllooo handsome cowboy!”

I heard Tate chuckle. “I miss you. Getting ready to head for the arena for sound checks. I wish you were here.”

“I miss you, too.”

We talked a while longer and finally, Tate said, “I love you, Maisie. I have to go now, because if I talk to you much longer I’m gonna get a boner and I don’t have time to tame the trouser snake.”

“Oh my goodness! You did
not
just say that!”

“Yep, pretty sure I did. Just tellin’ it like it is. I really don’t like that you’re there and I’m here.”

“Are you calling me after the show?”

“You’ve had a busy day,” he said. “You’ll still be up?”

“If I fall asleep, the phone will wake me.”

“I’m gonna sing a song to you, Maisie. When I call you, I’ll tell you what song it was. I love you.”

When he hung up, I sat back in the chair looking at my phone, wondering how on earth I got to this place.

***

Tate

I decided that opening with just my guitar was my thing. Audra tried hard to make me change my mind, but I’d made up my mind. Now it was up to the evening’s crowd.

I walked on stage to a single spotlight and sat on a stool. “Good evening, Boise!” The crowd was electric. They were on their feet as soon as I hit the stage. “I just decided what song I’m gonna open the show with, but I need someone’s help. Y’all up for it?”

The crowd screamed loud with a big “Yeah!”

“I need someone to video this song and tweet and post it wherever y’all post your stuff! Tag my Fan Page so I can call Maisie after the show to see the video. Can you help me out?”

One more very loud “Yeah!” and I started to play.

Blue jean baby

Nashville lady

Seamstress for the man

Pretty-eyed, pirate smile

You'll marry a music man…

***

“Were you asleep?” I asked.

“Dozing. I was waiting on your call.”

“Look at the Fan Page,” I said excitedly.

“Really? Right now?

“Yeah, it’s important.”

“What am I looking for?” she asked.

“Oh, you’ll know. It’s only on there about ten thousand times! All different angles, different choruses, but you’ll know,” I chuckled.

I heard my own voice say, “Maisie, baby, this one’s for you.”

Hold me closer tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

“Tate,” she said in a soft voice.

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“I am. That was so sweet.”

“I’m a sweet kind of guy, but right now, all I can think about is getting inside you and doing some push ups!”

“Stop it! I’ll never go back to sleep now!”

“What will you do, Maisie?”

“Sketches.”

“Not what I wanted to hear. Talk dirty to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Tell me what you want me to do to you when I get my hands on you,” I said in a low growl.

“Kiss me.”

“Tongue or not?” I asked.

“Oh, definitely tongue.”

“And then?” I prodded.

“Stop! I can’t do this!”

“It’s a good start,” I said, but I wasn’t done. “I’ll kiss down your body, stopping at each breast on my way, nipping them with just a little bite. Then I’ll kiss down your belly.”

“Oh my. And then?”

“I’ll keep going lower until I…”

“Stop!” she laughed.

“I can’t. Maisie, do you know that I’m crazy about you?”

“You’re just crazy, that’s all.”

“We’ll talk dirty again. I’ll let you go now so you can think about me.”

“I love you, Tate.”

***

Maisie

This experience was extremely different from what I share with Blake. I’d made a promise to myself not to compare apples and oranges, but Blake was all I knew. Blake was proper and serious. Not to say that he wouldn’t have ever suggested talking dirty. He’d just never have taken it as far as Tate was trying to lead me. Tonight’s conversation would have embarrassed Blake.

I’d never realized how quiet and reserved Blake was until Tate’s carefree spirit entered my life. Blake was my first, and at that time I was sure he was my last. He was everything to me. I thought I’d never be able to go on without him, but I guess God had other plans. I felt like broken Maisie. I didn’t want to live without him. I didn’t just lose Blake - I lost the baby we made together. Sometimes I think God took the baby too because he didn’t want me to dwell on the past, on what I lost. Looking at a child growing up who may have had Blake’s eyes, or laugh or, well anything of Blake’s would have kept me holding on to his memory. After he was gone there was only me, and as time passed, it became easier – never easy - but I’d never let him go.

And then, this crazy, persistent, fun-loving cowboy came along and turned my world on its axis. Nothing was as it was before. The good craziness made me want to get up every morning. It made me smile and feel alive. It gave me hope for every next day. The nonsense surrounding the release of Kitty’s story was the bad crazy, and I prayed that I could let that go. I knew Tate wouldn’t. He had people still digging, still trying to find out who, but I just continued to wonder why.

In the beginning, when the news broke, it felt as though I broke all over again. When I got that phone call in the middle of the night telling me about the article that would run the next day, I went into flight mode. Just packed a bag and took off.

That phone call…

***

Tate

The sound of my phone woke me. I looked, and saw 2:06 along with Maisie’s smile on my phone.

“Hey, is everything OK?”

“I couldn’t go to sleep. You got me all wound up…”

“And?” I snickered.

“No, not that. I was thinking. I was replaying everything that has happened since you came in the front door at the shop. All of it. And suddenly, I remembered something that I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think about it, and nothing we talked about triggered a thought for me to tell you.”

“Maisie, slow down.” She was talking a mile a minute and I was barely awake. “Slow down and tell me what you’re talking about.”

“When the story about Kitty broke, there was a phone call in the middle of the night. When I answered it a man said, ‘your world is about to change. Nashville Celebrity News is running a story about your mother. It hits the stands this morning. The story will ruin everything in your happy little world.’ Then he hung up. All I could think about was getting the hell out of here. I just ran. I grabbed stuff, clothes, the keys and paperwork for the cabin, and I was out the door by five o’clock. I didn’t remember the call. All I could think about was what that article would mean.”

“So someone warned you? Was it like a threat?” I asked. Sitting up in the bed, I rubbed my face and dragged my hand through my hair.
Wake up, Tate. Listen
.

“It wasn’t a friendly call. I knew that the thought of Kitty’s story being exposed to the public was like a sucker punch to the gut. When I heard him say the story will ‘ruin everything’, I started crying. I wasn’t being rational, not thinking. I just went into flight mode and took off.”

“This is big. I should have asked you how you knew about it. There was so much going on, so many emotions, that I didn’t think to ask. I’ll call Daniel in the morning. He may have to call you. Will you be able to go to sleep now?”

“No, my brain is too scrambled. I’ve got some sketches to do…”

“Don’t open that sketch book, you’ll never fall asleep. Are you laying down?”

“No. I’m pacing.”

“Lay down and listen to me.” I heard the rustling of the sheets and the click that I was sure was her turning the light off.

I started to sing.

There’s a sky full of stars

I’m wondering where you are

I’m alone and I’m missing you…

“I love you, sweet Maisie.”

“Tate Morrow, you are a good man. A fine man, and I mean that every way you can imagine. I’m blessed that you’re my man,” she said and then added, “I love you.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Chapter Eight 

Maisie

I woke up late. My internal alarm clock didn’t go off. As I scrambled to get ready, I called Dion and told him I was running behind. At 10:10 my phone rang.

“Maisie, it’s Daniel Costas. When I got in the office this morning there was a lengthy detailed message from Tate. He asked me to call you to see what we can put together about that phone call.”

“I’m running behind this morning. I’m meeting a client at my shop at eleven. Could you possibly call me at noon? I’ll be free until one.”

“I’ll come to the shop and we can talk. I’ll look forward to meeting you.”

I kicked into high gear and was at the shop by 10:40. I went over my notes so that I was ready for Lily Preston - the daughter of Manny Preston, the country singing legend - when she arrived. This was the final fitting for her prom dress. When she and her mother came in the door at 11:01, I was ready.

At noon, a tall, slender dark-haired man entered the shop. “Dion, can you take over here? Lily, the dress will be ready for you to pick up tomorrow. I want pictures from the prom to put in my portfolio,” I said with a wink.

“You bet! It’s so beautiful!” Lily replied happily as she hugged me.

“Daniel Costas,” the man said.

“Maisie,” I said, extending my hand. I led him to my office. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think, or remember about the call before now. I guess I tried to push all of that away.” I closed the door behind me for privacy.

“May I see your phone a minute? I could just have all the calls traced, but it’ll be easier if I have the number so they can zero in on that particular call. Have you had any other strange calls? Home? Here? Think, Maisie.”

I shook my head no. “Just that one.”

He had the date, so he scrolled through the calls and found the number. He took out his phone, and dialed the number. “Not in service,” he said. “I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be - probably a throw away phone. I’ll see where this goes and let you and Tate know. While I’m here, do you have any concerns?”

“No. I pay attention, since the accident. I don’t want to miss anything important. Plus, I know you have someone watching me since all this began. I’ve spotted him a time or two.”

“What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

I felt a shiver run up my spine. “The man I’ve seen,” I replied cautiously.

“Maisie, we don’t have a man watching you, but we will now. We need to find out about this.” He paused and started dialing. I felt certain that he was calling Tate.  He spoke for a few minutes and then handed me his phone.

“Whatever Daniel tells you, you follow his direction. I mean it, Maisie. No chances. I’ll call you in a little while. No chances,” he repeated. “I love you.”

I told Daniel everything I could remember. I’d seen the man twice and I told Daniel where, what he looked like, and the time of day when I’d seen him. It seemed like we were in there for hours.

“I should have asked Tate, but it was after we returned from the cabin and I just assumed...” Suddenly, I heard Carlene’s voice.

“Dion! Where is she?”

I opened the door to the office. “In here. Carlene, this is Daniel Costas.”

“I know who the hell he is! Tate called me! You’re going home with me, as soon as you’re done talking!” she barked.

“I have work to do,” I told her in a calm voice, trying to stifle the panic that churned in my gut – a feeling so sour and nasty that I felt physically sick.

“Maisie,” Daniel said. As I looked, I saw a serious expression. “You need to go with her.”

“What in the hell is happening?” I cried, and then I felt the bile. I ran into the bathroom at the back of my office and threw up. Carlene followed me and wet a washcloth and held it to my face.

“Why is this happening?” I cried as she wrapped me in her arms, rocking me soothingly.

After the client left, Dion knocked on the door and Daniel explained to him what was going on.

“You look a sight, Maisie Lee. Go home,” he said.

“She’s coming with me,” Carlene said, and Daniel nodded his agreement.

“Go. Shoo, little one. I’ve got this under control. I called April and she’s coming in.” He looked at Daniel, “I told her Maisie was ill.”

“How well do you know her?” Daniel asked.

“Not very, but she’s been popping in since she was a teenager,” he answered.

“I’m going to run a background check,” Daniel told him.

I went home with Carlene. She had private security at her home, so Daniel left us to go get started with what he needed to do.

The phone rang and I saw that it was Tate. “What is happening?” I asked, crying. It was the only release for my emotions, and I sobbed until my shirt was wet from wiping my tears. “Why?” I asked once more.

“I don’t know. Maisie, listen to me. You’re staying with Carlene until I can get there. I’m taking the red-eye after the show on Saturday. I’ll be there early on Sunday. We’re flying back to Dallas the same day, as soon as I land. Carlene has all the details. Pack for at least a couple weeks…”

“I have work to do!”

“Dion has that under control. I’m not leaving you alone until we get some answers. That’s how this will roll, Maisie. No chances.” He wasn’t barking orders; he was calm, his voice soothing.

“Tate,” I said in a soft voice, “I can’t live like this.”

“You will for now.” He paused, and then added, “I didn’t mean that to sound bossy. I’m worried about this, Maisie. I’ll call you after the show.”

After I hung up, I sat quietly thinking of the toll this was taking on Tate. He was watching out for me. Later, Daniel returned and took me to my house to pack.

***

“Hey. You OK?” Tate asked when he called later that night.

“I’m pissed. I’m angry. I don’t understand. I can’t grasp any of this. I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone.” My words were curt.

“We aren’t making this public for now. Daniel is working with the police to see what they can discover about the phone call. If anyone asks, everyone is responding that you’re sick. Daniel is sending a sketch artist to meet with you in the morning. I’m sorry about all of this. Go to the Fan Page,” he said, changing the subject.

“Another video?” I asked.

“Or two, or a couple thousand. Go see,” he suggested.

“Oh my. Just seeing you sitting there makes me miss you,” I said and clicked on the arrow that made the video play.

“I decided that the song I sing for Maisie each night will be my homage to the performers who helped me find my way,” I heard him say. “Their style, their passion, and their talent, helped influence the way I sing and perform. One of my favorite entertainers is Garth Brooks. I loved this song the first time I heard it. You know the drill! Post the video!”

Life is not tried it is merely survived

If you're standing outside the fire

There's this love that is burning

Deep in my soul

Constantly yearning to get out of control

Wanting to fly higher and higher…

“Wanting to fly higher and higher,” I repeated. “Will this be a nightly ritual at your shows, singing to me?”

“I think
so
,” Tate said. “I confess. I’ll like it better when you are in the front row.”

I won’t tell him that I love this. I can’t wait for his call each night. I’ll try not to peek ahead of time to see what the song was. I’ll wait for him, excited to see what song he chooses to sing for me each night.

***

I stayed captive at Carlene’s until Sunday. Daniel took me to the airport. Tate got off one plane and came to the gate where we waited. He took my hand in his, so strong and safe that it made me an emotional mess. We said our goodbyes and Tate and I boarded another plane.

Settled in our seats, Tate leaned toward me and placed a sweet kiss on my lips. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I can tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

“I can imagine if it’s even half as close to the way I feel,” I said.

After we were in flight, I raised the armrest between our seats and slid closer. Tate pulled me into his arms. Suddenly, I started to cry.

“What is it, Maisie?” he whispered in my ear.

“Everything that’s happened,” I sniffled. “And now, relief.”

“Relief? Because you’re with me?” he asked, tipping my head to look in my eyes.

“Yes.”

“Get used to it.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere but with him. “I can live with that.”

***

Tate

Exhausted, Maisie slept most of the flight. I watched her sleep, certain that her mind was full of thoughts, fear, and uneasiness. I tried to imagine what she was feeling, but realized that I probably couldn’t even come close.

When we landed in Dallas, I shook her lightly to wake her. “Wake up, babe. We’re here.”

“Already?” she said in a sleepy voice.

“It’s been two hours.” I smiled as she gathered her things, knowing she’d be with me for a while.

We arrived at the hotel an hour later. It was almost five in the afternoon. “The arena is right across the street. We’ll order room service in a little while and get some rest. I’m tired, so I’m sure you are.”

“I just want to fall asleep in your arms.”

She nibbled on the appetizers I ordered and we talked about the tour, the weather, Dallas - anything but what we’d been going through.

“I forgot to tell you, tomorrow’s show sold out. The others have been close, but this one is the first sellout. Audra’s taking credit for everything, but I’m pretty sure it’s the ‘Maisie songs’,” I whispered in her ear.

She laughed. “I can’t wait to hear tomorrow’s song.”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I have two security staff lined up to sit with you.”

“No.” Her words came out with a pout, and I smiled.

“Yeah. That’s how it’ll be. No chances, remember. You’re way too precious to me for us to take any chances until we know about the man you saw.”

“I just wish this would all go away.” She got up from the sofa, still pouting, and went to the bed. Lying on her side, she watched me.

I went to join her and my phone rang. I sat on the edge of the bed and saw that it was Carlene. “We should have called you. I’m sorry. We’re here. That round trip jaunt was exhausting. When we got to the room, we were just tired,” I said. “We should have called.”

“I just couldn’t wait any longer to know you were there safely,” Carlene said in a voice full of emotion.

“Would you like to talk to her?” I asked.

“Just let me say hey,” she replied.

“I’m fine,” I heard Maisie reassure her. She talked a few minutes longer. Finally, she said good night and hung up. She rose and changed into a nightgown, then threw the covers back to crawl in. I changed and stretched out beside her.

“Tate?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Can you hold me? Can you just wrap your arms around me and hold me? I’ve missed that so much. I get in bed at night and look at the other side, and I feel just like that side of the bed - empty.”

“Just the feel of you in my arms will be heaven. I know that empty feeling. I just didn’t know that I’d feel it so deep.”

She snuggled closer, her head on my chest, her fingers lightly toying with the hair on my chest. “I love you, Tate.”

“I kissed the top of her head, pulling her closer. “I love you so much. Get some rest.”

At two in the morning, she moved, and that was all it took. She curled into the fetal position. Her body was warm, touching me. I felt myself wanting her. She felt me wanting her, too. She moved closer and squirmed.

“Are you awake?” I asked softly.

“Yes. Are you?” she said in a soft purr.

I slipped the nightgown over her head and slid my shorts off. “I want to make love, love, love, love, crazy love.” I sang the words softly in her ear.

***

Backstage at the arena the next night, I introduced Maisie to Catalina and Simone, the security staff she’d be sitting with for the evening. The three of them talked for a little while, getting to know each other. I knew it’d be easier for Maisie if they had some time before they went to their seats. There was also the event staff security that stood close to the stage, so I felt relieved. When it was time for them to go, it pleased me - they acted like friends who’d be hanging out together at a concert. I gave them “Tate” T-shirts – dark gray shirts with my image holding a guitar, my head tipped so that my white Stetson hid most of my face, with “Tate” emblazoned across the front.

“I love this,” Maisie said. I turned to look and she had it on, and had somehow managed to slip the one she’d been wearing over her head and into my bag.