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  Chapter 11

  SADIE

  MY BACK PORCH was quite possibly my favorite part of my house. I’d decorated it with white string lights that outlined the space. A faux fur blanket made for a comfy landing, but to make it more plush, I added large colorful throw pillows that my mom had given me the last time she’d taken me shopping.

  Sitting with Gayle, I refilled our wine glasses after going inside for a second bottle. The sun was beginning to set, making for a beautiful view. Though it was less than an hour from my hometown, Nashville at times could feel like another world. And this was one of those nights, when I felt like an older and more experienced woman than the one who left my parents’ house.

  “Would you believe Dan and Irene asked me for the promoter’s number for Barney’s?” Gayle said, holding her glass up as I carefully poured the Chianti.

  “For what? Do you think they’re trying to do their own thing?”

  Dan and Irene had been the leaders of our band on paper. They were responsible for bringing everyone together and arranging the rehearsal space. But everyone knew Gayle was the real brains behind the operation. She knew the promoters and had connections with booking agents from Tennessee to Georgia. There wasn’t anyone on the music scene in Nashville she didn’t know.

  “I don’t have a clue,” she shrugged before sipping her wine. “And I honestly don’t care.”

  “So, you gave them the number?”

  “Hell no!” she shrieked. “There’s no way I’m giving any connections for free. They would have had a better chance asking when we were bandmates. I told them I’d be happy to set up a date for them, all I’d need were the dates and band info. I still haven’t heard back,” she said, barely containing her amusement.

  I loved how bold Gayle was. She wasn’t afraid to stand up for herself and put people in their place. I struggled with being too nice sometimes. Especially when it came to people older than me. Dan and Irene were like parental figures in my mind. When they asked me to do something, I always complied, even when I didn’t really want to.

  Like the time they told me how interested their teenage daughter was with playing the piano after practice one day. Irene said she was inspired after seeing me play and asked if I’d be interested in speaking with her. Thinking nothing of it, I sparked up a conversation with the young girl and taught her the basics for an hour. Then, the next practice, she was there again and so I taught her more.

  That was until Gayle interrupted, putting a halt to things. She was never rude or aggressive, but she always made it clear where she stood.

  “This is so nice, the way you’re supporting an up and coming artist by hiring her to give your daughter lessons. How much are you paying her?” I’d heard her ask Irene.

  From the look on Irene’s face, I understood what should have been obvious from the beginning. She was only trying to get free lessons for her daughter out of me. What annoyed me most was that because Irene was older and my bandmate, she likely thought I wasn’t going to stand up for myself.

  “Oh, she’s not giving her lessons. Sadie was just showing her the basics,” Irene had said.

  “Right. I saw her do that after last practice. Come on, Sadie. Let me show you the new dates for next month,” Gayle waved for me to follow. “Irene, you should really consider hiring Sadie to teach lessons. She’s a great teacher, and your daughter seems eager to learn.”

  Walking out of the gym, I was certain of two things. Gayle had my back, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take advantage of me. And I needed to get a stronger backbone if I was going to make it in this business. As Gayle taught me, there would always be someone trying to get all they could out of you for nothing. It was the artist’s responsibility to see the value in their talent and demand fair pay even if it was my own bandmate.

  “I still can’t believe Rose Aurum is over,” I said more to myself than to Gayle. Though I’d always hated the name, the Latin translation of rose gold, I loved being a member of a band.

  Taking a sip of the wine, I invited the subtle bite as it slid across my tongue. I was a little tipsy, but far from drunk. We’d been sitting on the porch for about an hour, finishing an entire bottle while we caught up on life.

  It was a huge change not seeing Gayle regularly. We used to have practice once or twice a week, and then a performance whenever she could book them. And after every rehearsal and show, she and I would go out together for food or drinks, her treat. We usually saw each other at least three times a week. Now, there was so much more to catch up on with longer gaps between seeing each other.

  “To tell the truth, I can’t believe it lasted as long as it did,” Gayle said. I nodded, knowing what she meant, and we both sipped our wine in silence. “I mean, how can you have a band with nine people, when only half are truly artists? It had become one of those backyard bands. Everyone welcome, no talent required.”

  “Remember when Irene started requesting that she played a larger role and Anthony told her she’d first need to learn how to play an instrument?” I said, the memory bringing a wave of laughter between us.

  “Yes! She was literally only there because Dan arranged rehearsals. And it seemed she was the only one who didn’t get that memo.”

  We laughed hard about that. It was mind blowing how much input Irene always had for the direction of the band, although she wasn’t really a contributing member. Whenever she would make a suggestion, everyone would look around and then her husband Dan would say something encouraging before letting her know we were going to go in another direction.

  “Seriously though, kid,” Gayle continued. She called me ‘kid’ whenever she was teaching me something. “You never know what to expect in this industry. Nothing goes as planned and you never know how opportunities can pan out. You just have to go with the flow and stay true to yourself.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately,” I nodded in agreement. We each sipped more of the wine, and Gayle reached over for the bottle to refill our glasses. “It’s like this new gig – I never saw myself working behind the scenes. You know I wanted to be front and center, the star of the show. But working with successful artists is so inspirational. I feel like it’s exactly what I didn’t know I wanted, and everything I needed.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re working with Wyatt and Billie Hart! That is an awesome gig. I wish I could play the piano! How are they?”

  “Well, Billie hasn’t been around as much.” I was careful to stay away from the actual music and gossip, as I wanted to honor the NDA. Gayle through her contacts already knew who I was working for. “She’s in a serious relationship, and she spends a lot of time with her boyfriend. But, Wyatt is like a musical genius. We’ve had two sessions so far – and each time he’s blown me away with how quickly he can put a song together. Right after my audition, we went right into a session and we ended with an entire song. Then, he came by my house and it seemed like he put three songs together in under an hour.”

  “Wait.” Gayle held her hand to stop me. “Your house? Wyatt Hart came here for a session?”

  “Yeah, the label wouldn’t approve studio time while Billie was on vacation, but he had an idea for a new song. He got it straightened out, though, because he texted me about an upcoming studio session.”

  “He texted you?” she repeated, taking a big gulp of wine.

  “Yeah, he’s down to earth,” I reasoned, although I knew what she was insinuating.

  “He’s also very hot,” she giggled.

  I felt myself blush.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t even thought of it. I mean, the man is a sex symbol!” she all but yelled.

  “Tell the neighbors, why don’t you,” I joked, drinking more wine. “Yes, he’s attractive, but he’s like my boss, Gayle. It would be disastrous.”

  “I don’t know,” she pursed her lips together. “Some of the best music has come from unions between collaborators. There’s this chemistry between artists.”

  I n
odded my agreement, but decided to keep my thoughts to myself. In the time I’d known her, Gayle had quickly become my best friend. She could sense things before I even acknowledged them myself. And whether she knew it or not, she gave me permission to live unapologetically, like she did.

  In reality, I was worried about the chemistry brewing between me and Wyatt. It was undeniable and more intense at every session. When he messaged to tell me about the upcoming studio session, I was a bit relieved to know we wouldn’t be meeting at my house again.

  Things had gotten pretty tense between us, in a way that I felt was inappropriate. In a way, I thought we needed the audience of his sister and Mitchell. When it was just the two of us, I worried about our restraint.

  Chapter 12

  WYATT

  SITTING WITH A notebook, I struggled to find the words to complete a song I’d been working on. It was about the feeling when you first meet someone, the excitement that builds in your chest and shows in your eyes. I’d been sitting there for over an hour, stuck, when I heard her.

  “Where is everyone?” Sadie asked when she entered the studio. I turned from the small desk to see her dressed in a cute dress and Chuck Taylor sneakers. Her hair fell in waves just past her shoulders, resting above her cleavage.

  God, talk about inspiration. My breath quickened as my body hardened at the sight of her.

  “Hey,” I stood. “Billie should be on her way. Go ahead and get set up and I’ll call her.”

  Brushing past her, I could smell the unique scent I’d come to associate with her – a flowery smell with a hint of spice that hovered around her. She smiled, making her way to the piano while I went to the hallway.

  “I told you I’ll be there,” Billie answered on the second ring.

  “You said that an hour ago,” I reminded her, annoyed by her inability to stick to a schedule.

  “Relax, would you? Go ahead and get started, Wyatt. I’ll be there before you know it.”

  I looked at the phone in disbelief as she’d ended the call. Billie had never been as committed to the music like I was, but in recent months, she seemed completely disinterested. Everything to do with the album was a chore for her, and getting her to the studio nearly impossible.

  When I re-entered the studio, Sadie was already playing the piano. Her eyes were open this time, following me across the room as I made my way to the bench.

  “Billie insists she’s on her way, but we’ll just get started. She’s been saying that for an hour now,” I said, hearing the frustration in my voice.

  “It’s fine,” Sadie said, her bright blue eyes comforting me. “Do you want to work on the songs you came up with at my house?”

  “We came up with those,” I corrected her as I positioned myself beside her. “But, no. I have this new song I’m working on. It’s more of a love song, focused on that initial feeling. You know, the storybook fairy tale.”

  “Falling in love?” she asked with a small smile that somehow made her even prettier.

  I hadn’t considered it like that, but I guess it made sense. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Okay,” she moved her fingers along the keys. “Any requests?”

  “I’m thinking something in A minor,” I suggested, reaching for a notebook sitting on top of the piano. After scribbling a few thoughts, I turned to Sadie, who was playing a soft tune. “That’s good. That’s just what I was thinking.”

  I’d worried if our compatibility was something I’d made up in my mind, hoping to make some progress on the album. The truth was I needed good collaborators, and with my sister not participating, I’d felt alone in this process. Sadie was the missing component I’d needed.

  On cue, the words came to me, and I sang the lyrics I’d been stumbling through before Sadie arrived. I felt I’d finally gotten over the hurdle, but the writer’s block resurfaced. I stopped abruptly, unable to create on the fly like usual.

  Sadie played for a few more seconds before stopping, looking to me for an explanation. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Reaching for the notebook, I wrote out a few more thoughts I hoped would soon become lyrics. “I keep getting stuck at the same part. It’s like a complete block,” I explained, pushing my fingers through my hair.

  “Well, I’m not as good as you,” she started bashfully. “But when I write, I always find it best to pull from personal experiences. Tell a story about how it feels to fall in love.”

  Sadie had a way of being innocent and sexy at the same time. Her soft voice soothed me, despite my frustration, but her request was one I’d never be able to fulfill.

  “Personal experience?” I said, feeling the humor bubble in my chest.

  “Yeah,” she said, turning to face me more. “It’s always the most authentic that way. So, tell me what falling in love was like for you.”

  I couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Me? In love? Are you serious?”

  “Okay, well maybe that sounds cliché. But your last serious relationship. How did it start?” She was reading me; I could feel from the way she searched my eyes.

  I only hoped she couldn’t see the whole truth. I wasn’t sure Sadie would look at me the same if she knew of my history with women. There had been no falling in love, or romance in any capacity. The songs I wrote didn’t always speak for me, but more to the listeners. It was my way of connecting with them, telling the stories of their lives, even if it wasn’t necessarily true for me.

  “Don’t sit here and tell me none of the women you’ve dated were serious.” Sadie crossed her arms defiantly.

  “I wouldn’t even say we dated.” I bit my bottom lip, cringing a bit.

  “I find that hard to believe, Wyatt. There’s no way! I listened to your first album. There were some real love ballads on there.”

  My chest swelled knowing she had heard my first album, which I secretly still considered to be my best work. It bothered me that so many people identified me by my recent music, which was much more pop than I cared for. The label had all but mandated we create an album that was for everyone, which was artistically impossible. We ended up with a watered-down version of what I loved to do.

  “I was creating a soundtrack for the people around me,” I explained.

  “Oh, so you’re like a musical journalist?” she quipped, her lips curling upwards playfully.

  “I like that,” I smirked. “I think I’ll add that to my résumé. Musical journalist,” I nodded.

  We laughed together, and I felt like I could see Sadie relax right before my eyes. Unguarded, her smile spread wider and her eyes shined brighter.

  “I just can’t believe it. Wyatt Hart has never been in a serious relationship? It doesn’t add up.” She raised her eyebrows. Our eyes locked as they had at her house. That tension I’d spent so much time thinking of had peaked.

  “Well, believe it,” my sister’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “The man doesn’t believe in anything but work.”

  “So, you made it,” I sighed. In the process with Sadie, I’d forgotten Billie was even supposed to join us. She was dressed like she might go straight to a nightclub, in a short tight pink dress and stilettos. Her dark hair was frozen in place with product, but she looked beautiful.

  “Hi, Billie,” Sadie smiled nervously. I hated how rude my sister had been to her when they first met.

  “I see you’re getting to know my brother, the workaholic who doesn’t believe there’s anything in life but music.” She glanced at me before rolling her eyes. “I’ve been trying to explain to him that there is more to life than work, but he thinks I’m making it up.”

  Sadie giggled softly. “We were trying to come up with–” she began before I interrupted.

  “You know, Billie, you can still be respectful regardless of what else you have going on. By all means, I think everyone should have more than their career, but that doesn’t mean you leave people working with you waiting for hours.” I stood from the bench, suddenly annoyed by my sister.

  I�
�d waited hours for her arrival, but now that she was there, I wanted her to leave. She’d ruined the vibe Sadie and I had going, storming in with her negative energy and bad attitude.

  “If it isn’t obvious, I had a photoshoot. Don’t be a dick,” Billie shot back.

  “Me? A dick? Says the woman two hours late to a studio session after taking the weekend off,” I said, feeling my temper build.

  It wasn’t about the weekend or today’s studio session. It was weeks in the making, if not months. Billie had failed to show any level of commitment for the project we had both signed on for with the label. She knew as well as me how important it was to make the deadlines in order for us to stay in compliance with the contract. Hell, she was sleeping with a lawyer, maybe he should explain it to her.

  “Don’t talk to me like that!” she yelled. “You’re lucky I came at all! Yes, Wyatt, some people take the weekend off, it’s not a fucking crime!”

  “I’m lucky you came?” I huffed, shocked she had the gall to say something so ridiculous.

  “That’s right! You are! I have plenty of other things I could be doing, but you’re here day in and day out because you’ve got no other options. This is your whole life!”

  “Fine, Billie. Go do all the things you need to do. We wouldn’t want to hold you up.” I held my hands up, my voice calm while she yelled. It drove her nuts when I kept my cool while she lost her temper.

  “I don’t have time for this.” Billie stormed out without another word. The room was deflated, useless as far as creating was concerned.

  “I, uh, I…” Sadie rose from the bench nervously. I’d forgotten she was there, witnessing my spat with my sister.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, my words tumbling out. “It’s not as bad as it looks. She’s just getting on my nerves,” I assured her. We may have fought occasionally, but I loved my sister. She just had the ability to push my buttons like no one else could.

  “No, it’s fine. I understand,” she said.