Outlaw Country (2 page)

The reminder email was sent to himself, and Roger was ready to tell Colton the news, but Arvin had one last bit of info. “I’ll confirm with everyone, and you’ll be there at eight sharp.”

Roger had to put his foot down. “No, no. That’s a deal breaker, I’m afraid.” After hearing another crash, Roger sighed. This one sounded much bigger and more destructive. The cheers were louder to match. Turning to the door, he was curious and afraid at the same time. “Sorry, Ar, but I can guarantee you that he won’t be ready to work at eight in the morning.”

Kathleen Hart was panting. The five-mile run in the dense heat felt more like a marathon to her. She slid open the refrigerated drawer next to the sink and pulled out a Veen. At thirty-eight, Kathleen was proud that she could run distances most teenagers couldn’t. She unstrapped the armband that held her phone and set it down on the long, cool countertop.

After a long pull of the water, she called upstairs, “Gracie, you up yet, girl?”

While her main phone synced the run, Kathleen snatched up a second one from the counter. There were no running apps or family pictures on the phone in her hand; it was strictly for business. It had reminder apps, calendars, schedules, and the most important thing: daily updates of Gracie’s album, single, and digital sales.

Kathleen could almost count on hundreds of new plays every time she hit refresh. Her daughter was at the top of the tops, but together, they still found ways to climb higher. Gracie had been begging for a new Jeep, and Kathleen thought with the charity tribute album coming up, it might be enough to boost Gracie’s sales across the board. Time to find out what color she wants, Kathleen thought with a smile.

She heard a rustling upstairs that answered her question. Pulling up the calendar, Kathleen double-checked the studio time for the next day. Eight in the morning. Muscle Shoals. A studio with legendary history. Kathleen struggled to remember the illustrious history of the studio, but she knew it was important.

As Kathleen stood in the vast kitchen, she reminded herself how quickly fame, success, and the large house had come to them, and how quickly it could all disappear. It was hard to stay humble, but Kathleen tried.

When Gracie was born, Kathleen liked Michael Jackson and Garth Brooks enough to know their names. All other music sort of traveled in one ear and out the other. In the eight short years that Gracie had been singing, though, Kathleen had been forced to learn. She learned about music, business, and managing a rising pop sensation. It was a far cry from managing a Gap as a single mother.

Kathleen heard the reverberation of footsteps coming down the staircase. She shook her head.
The foyer needs something. It echoes too much.
The home had only been bought six months earlier, and Gracie had been on tour for five of those months. Kathleen hadn’t had the time to properly decorate anything but their bedrooms.

Kathleen laughed as Gracie came into the large kitchen. At first it was in her head, but soon she couldn't contain the fit of laughter.

Her hair jutting in all directions, Gracie looked up at her mother. Her voice was anything but pop-star, “What?”

Kathleen shook her head. “If your fans saw you first thing in the morning, I don’t think you’d ever have a hit again.” Kathleen leaned against the countertop, enjoying the cool feeling on her hot skin. “Let me Instagram this, please.”

As her mother laughed and reached for her phone, Gracie stuck her tongue out before quickly covering her face. “Quit it!”

Kathleen had always worked hard as a single mother, but she was overjoyed to discover that she and her daughter had become so much closer since Gracie’s fame. They looked out for each other, mother and daughter against it all. Kathleen put her phone down and brushed a strand of hair from Gracie’s face. “All right, all right. We’ll keep the secret between you and me.”

Gracie smiled through smeared make-up and messy hair. She plopped down onto a stool at the long granite island. “You can make it up to me, Mother.” Gracie coughed away the sleep from her voice. In a voice that Kathleen could only describe as sarcastically sweet, Gracie said, “A nice cup of coffee would be just peachy.”

Kathleen shook her head and switched on the espresso machine. “You’re not too bad, girl. I think I’ll keep you.”

Gracie smiled every time her mother said that. It was a little something that she and her mother shared. It was something that they always left out of interviews, and something that never popped up when the cameras were around. In those moments, Gracie didn’t feel so overwhelmed with her life. It never lasted long, though.

As the machine brewed the coffee, Kathleen held her phone up, so the screen faced Gracie. “Busy day starting around one. Up for it?”

Gracie looked at all the interviews. Two on the phone, one online, and one at the house. She gave her best smile. “No choice.”

“How do you feel about the song for tomorrow?” Kathleen had heard Gracie strumming her Martin acoustic and finding her melodies and harmonies. Gracie didn’t sing in front of Kathleen. The older Hart woman knew when something sounded good or bad, but that was the extent of her musical ear. Gracie’s vocal coach was the one who got private performances.

The young singer’s heart beat hard for a second. How did she feel about recording with Colton Wade?
Conflicted
, she told herself. Gracie knew all about him. She admired Colton just as much as she despised him. He was a decent songwriter and an even better singer, but it was his stage presence that she couldn’t help but envy. He could command any crowd...as long as it was predominantly female.

Colton did nothing to hide his love of the female gender. Gracie had friends in the music business that had clued her in, but her duet with him would be their first face-to face-interaction. She knew he would try to get into her pants. She just
knew
it.

That thought was what sent Gracie’s heart into a panic. She was disgusted by Colton’s womanizing tendencies, but not as disgusted as she would have liked. She didn’t like the hard-drinking attitude, she didn’t like all the tattoos, and she didn’t like his droll lyrics about jean shorts and bonfires. The problem was she didn’t hate them nearly enough.

“I’ll be ready.” She tried to focus on the song they’d be singing together rather than all the things about Colton that she found so distracting.

Gracie must not have covered up her real thoughts enough. “Ready with the song, or ready to deal with that bronco?”

Can’t hide anything from her,
Gracie thought as her cheeks flushed. “He’ll be fine. I can handle him.”

Kathleen handed her daughter a cup filled to the brim with strong, liquid caffeine. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Gracie knew that her mother would be looking for some weakness on her face. She strayed strong as her mother went on, “You know what he’s like. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve seen his name on the news, we could pay someone to make this coffee.” Both Hart women knew they could pay someone, but despite the new mansion, Gracie’s mother was still stuffing plenty of money away.
Every wave crashes to the shore sometime,
she often said.

“Mom, it’s one song. Probably three hours of studio time, and then we’re gone. After that, I can go on avoiding him for the rest of my life.”

Kathleen smiled. “Oh, girl. You don’t have to avoid him for the rest of your life; just until you’re married...to someone else.” She winked at her daughter, who immediately covered her face again.

“Mother! Come on!” Gracie didn't want to talk about Colton anymore. It got her thinking about all kinds of stuff she’d rather push away. Her short-lived relationship with Shepard Green came to mind. Other than an album and a half of good material, the young actor had been nothing but trouble. He split quickly when Gracie refused to give up her virginity to him.
Good. I’m better without him.

Gracie smiled thinking of just how high “Better Without Him” had climbed on the charts. Shep had a hard time answering questions about that song in interviews, and it gave Gracie more than a little satisfaction.

Kathleen knew exactly what it was like to fall for a boy far too young. Eric had been a bad boy just like Colton. Gracie’s father had been a Triple A ballplayer with the swagger of a New York Yankee. It had worked like a charm on Kathleen. She could see her daughter falling into a similar trap.

She had been nervous when the record label suggested the duet with Colton, but in the end, she knew it would be a one and done recording. Kathleen would watch the boy like a hawk, and everything should be just fine. She had lived the last twenty years trying to provide a better life for Gracie, and she wasn’t about to let someone as greasy as Colton destroy her little girl’s career.

What’s the phrase? Young, dumb, and full of cum.

Kathleen reminded herself to keep a close eye on every one of the band members at the recording session as well. Any one of them could be too much of a temptation for Gracie to handle.
 

“I’m just looking out for my little girl, that’s all.”

Gracie nodded. “Or your biggest client?”

Her mother couldn't help but smile. Gracie was always too smart for her own good, “You’re my only client, girl.” She may have been smart when it came to the stage and the song, but Kathleen had kept Gracie far too sheltered to let the girl develop street smarts.

Gracie gave a face that reminded Kathleen of when her daughter had actually been a little girl. “Mhm. I’m gonna get my yoga in before Alice comes over. She says I’ll be ready to show that unskilled redneck a thing or two about vocal performance in the studio tomorrow.”

“Good girl. There’s a reason you’re on the cover of Rolling Stone next month and he’s on the cover of America’s Most Wanted.” Kathleen watched her sweet girl head back upstairs to get her exercise in for the day. Every day that Gracie grew older, Kathleen became more worried about the Colton Wades and Shepard Greens of the world. Shepard had taught her a valuable lesson. They may look wholesome on the outside, but they are all rotten on the inside. With Colton’s messy hair and myriad of tattoos, she wondered just how rotten Colton was on the inside.

“He’ll be there, I promise.” Roger hated making promises, especially when it came to Colton. In Roger’s two years managing Colton, the kid had never missed a show, but he’d been damn close too many times to count. He had missed more than one date at a recording studio, however.