Restless Heart (13 page)

“No doubt.”

Was this really happening?

Funny—that was the same thought that kept flitting through her mind the night she and Seth had spent together. Even now, the memory sent butterflies flitting through her.

It had really happened.

This, too, was really happening.

Before reaching for the pen, she dried her damp right palm on the skirt of her new business suit.

She eyed the crystal water pitcher with longing, but was afraid that her hands were shaking too hard to pour.

Then, as if reading her mind, Miranda Shepherd, seated beside her, reached over and filled her glass.

“Thanks,” she told her manager, who discreetly patted Destiny’s leg beneath the table.

That she actually
had
a manager—let alone one of the best—was going to take some getting used to. And now she was about to have a record label as well.

Sundial Records . . . Nick . . . Miranda . . .

Seth.

Destiny took a big sip from the tall glass. The cold water slid down her dry throat and splashed into her empty stomach.

“Ready?” Nick asked Destiny, who nodded. He looked over at Miranda.

“Everything is in order,” Miranda answered crisply.

“Then let’s get this show on the road.” Nick handed out the contracts and Destiny picked up the pen. “Just sign at the red arrows. I’ll explain each section as we go, but don’t hesitate to ask questions.”

The process seemed so surreal that as she signed her name over and over, Destiny felt as though she might wake up curled up on her sofa with Mike, eating Cheetos and watching reruns of
Friends
.

She signed the final page with a flourish and gently laid down the pen.

“This is exciting!” Nick Novell announced in his deep, booming voice, and reached over to shake Destiny’s hand. “I’ve been in this business for a long time, and my gut tells me that your star is going to rise quickly, Destiny.”

“Has your gut ever been wrong?” she couldn’t help asking.

“Hmmm . . .” Nick arched one eyebrow and rubbed his chin as if in serious thought, then grinned. “Never.”

Destiny let out a little whoop, then put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Sometimes I tend to get caught up in the moment.”

Nick Novell tilted his head back and laughed. “I knew you had spunk. Now, we have to get a great road band behind you, set you up with an A and R rep, and you’ll be on your way to the top of the country-music charts.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Well, don’t get too anxious,” he said with a smile. “For a new unknown artist, it can take a year or more from signing to getting a first single on the air.”

“A whole
year
?”

“Sometimes less—if you get some kind of break. Look, don’t worry, Destiny, we have big plans for you. We’re going to get you into the studio as soon as possible, and once we have a couple of songs in the can, we’ll get our other departments involved—promotion, creative, marketing . . .”

“What do they do, exactly?”

“They all weigh in with their two cents, basically. The creative team works on your brand image—head shots, video shoots, album packaging. They get to know you and figure out what your style is—or should be.”

Should be?

As determined as she was to rise to the top, Destiny wasn’t crazy about that terminology—or the idea of changing herself to fit someone else’s image.

“The promotion guys are responsible for getting your songs on the radio. They’re the ones who are in tune with what’s working and not working on radio across the country, so basically, they have a lot of say in what you record.”

She nodded. Her head was spinning.

“The marketing team is responsible for marketing the album launch, and the sales team sells it into retail.”

“That’s an awful lot of people.”

Nick laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be observing and guiding the whole way, and Miranda has been doing this forever.”

He went on with more detail, and Miranda took notes, and Destiny tried to concentrate, hoping she was nodding at all the right places. But she was buzzing with such excitement that it was difficult to stay focused. Finally, when she thought her brain would explode from too much information, Nick’s assistant poked her head in and informed him that he was late for a luncheon.

The meeting ended with a flurry of handshakes and hugs.

“I’ll call you soon,” Miranda told her. “And congratulations. I’m very excited about this! Drive, ambition, talent, sex appeal . . . you’ve got all the right stuff!”

“Thank you, Miranda. My parents taught me to always give a hundred percent.”

“That’s good to hear, because if you’re going to make it in this industry, it’s going to take nothing less.” Miranda put her hands on Destiny’s shoulders. “There’s lots of talent and competition out there, Destiny. You have that special, elusive . . . something, no doubt. But continued hard work will separate you from the pack.” She gave her a gentle squeeze. “As busy as your life is now . . . well, let’s just hope you’re ready, ’cause you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

“I’m ready,” Destiny answered with conviction and gave Miranda a hug, but a troubling thought entered her brain.

If she gave a hundred percent to her career . . . then what would be left over for Seth?

O
ctober had always been Destiny’s favorite time of year—whenever she lived in an area that saw the change of seasons, anyway.

Nashville certainly fell into that category. The summer’s humidity gave way to crisp, clean air, and the city was more scenic than ever, set against a backdrop of fiery foliage and cobalt sky.

As she stepped outside after a Friday-afternoon rehearsal at Back in the Saddle, though, Destiny’s thoughts weren’t on the landscape or the weather.

Nor were they on her career, despite the encouraging response the label was giving her on “Restless Heart,” which was slated to become her first single.

It had all happened so fast, in a chicken-or-the-egg kind of way: Nick Novell signing her with Sundial Records and Miranda agreeing to take her on as a client. She’d been an invaluable source of advice and encouragement.

“Think of me as the captain steering your career ship with a full crew of attorneys, agents, accountants, and publicists,” she’d told Destiny at the beginning—back when she couldn’t imagine that she’d ever need all those people in her life.

Maybe the reason it was all such a blur was that her thoughts at the time had been preoccupied with Seth—kind of like they were right now.

It had been three months since they spent that first glorious night in each other’s arms. There had been many more romantic evenings since—but not nearly enough of them.

Destiny’s days were spent songwriting or in the recording studio, and her nights performing with her new band. That left little time for anything else. She did manage to talk to Seth most every night, but he couldn’t come to visit very often—at first due to the success of his summer baseball team, then because school was back in session.

She’d been hoping they could see each other tonight, but Seth had sent her a text message while she was onstage rehearsing.

She understood, of course, that circumstances were beyond his control, but still . . .

Why, once the summer league had ended, did he have to take on another coaching position for the town recreation board’s league? Fall wasn’t even baseball season, as far as she was concerned.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair. Baseball was in Seth’s blood the way music was in hers. He understood that she spent her weekends singing, and just about every other waking hour on her songwriting and recording. Could she really blame him for indulging his own passion?

Their relationship was working so far, and the last thing she wanted was to shake things up.

So she’d texted back:

The reply was exactly what she expected:

Yeah. She remembered.

And she knew he wouldn’t miss practice, because it wasn’t just about coaching. Seth’s most talented player, Chase Miller, was going through a rough time at home. His father—who, along with his stepmother, had been raising him—had been killed in a car wreck a year ago.

Now Chase’s mother, who had left when he was a toddler and lived in a remote part of Alaska with her fisherman boyfriend, wanted custody. The boy didn’t want to be uprooted just when everything he’d worked for was about to pay off. His stepmother wanted to keep him, but his mother appeared to be gearing up for a custody battle.

Seth was becoming more and more emotionally engaged in Chase’s dilemma. He was convinced the boy could win an athletic scholarship if he could just stay put for the remainder of his high school career, but there would be no chance of that in the Alaskan wilderness.

Seth worked with Chase every chance he got. Destiny didn’t resent it. She just missed him.

She supposed she could try to squeeze in a trip back to Wilmot sometime next week. That was just about the last thing she wanted to do, though. She’d been home for a couple of visits since she’d started seeing Seth, and although she’d spent most of her time with him, she couldn’t avoid her parents.

Well, she didn’t
want
to avoid her mother. Grace, either.

But Daddy . . .

He seemed more distant than ever, if that was even possible. Not just from Destiny, Grace assured her—but from the rest of the family as well. Especially Mom.

When he wasn’t out fishing, he was puttering around the house in stony silence.

“I don’t know how you can stand it,” Destiny had told Grace the last time she’d visited, in late September.

“I can’t. Believe me, as soon as I find a job, I’m going to get an apartment.”

“I’m sure something’ll turn up soon,” Destiny assured her sister with a confidence she didn’t feel. Seth had told her that there weren’t many job opportunities in Wilmot.

“But if your sister has an ounce of your determination, she’ll land one,” he’d added with a grin.

“Oh, she’s determined.” If only to get away from their parents—a real shame, because Grace had always wanted to stay in their hometown, just like Seth.

The two of them would have been perfect for each other, Destiny couldn’t help thinking sometimes. Much more suited than she and Seth were.

Now that school was back in session, she could see his enthusiasm for teaching and knew it was his life’s calling. She knew he was still house hunting, too, though he didn’t seem to want to discuss it much with her.

Every time she thought about Seth putting down roots, she tried—and failed—to imagine herself settling down with him in Wilmot.

Maybe, if they’d been reunited a few months sooner . . . or even a few days sooner. Twenty-four hours would have done it.

She’d been right about that one day changing the course of her life, in more ways than one.

Big things were finally happening for her career-wise, and she wanted success more than ever before, if that was even possible.

Nothing was going to hold her back now. Not even her feelings for Seth.

“Hey, Destiny! Wait up!”

Turning to see Jesse Jansen hurrying to catch up, she thought,
Uh-oh
.

Jesse was—or rather, had the potential to be—trouble with a capital T.

With his shoulder-length hair, dark stubble shadowing his cheeks, and Celtic tattoos hugging big, bare biceps, he looked every bit the rock and roller he’d once been. He’d drifted around after his band broke up back in the nineties, eventually ending up a studio musician here in Nashville—and Destiny’s lead guitarist.

“Hey, Jesse.”

“You sounded good today.”

“Thanks. So did you.”

“You walking home?”

“Yep.”

“Want a ride?” He gestured at the Harley parked by the curb.

“Thanks . . . but no thanks.” It wasn’t the first time Destiny had turned down a ride—or other things—Jesse had offered her.

He definitely had charisma, but so far she’d managed to sidestep his advances. It wasn’t easy to keep her distance when they worked together every day, but a walk on the wild side would definitely ruin things with Seth.

“You sure about that?”

“I’m positive. See you tomorrow.”

She walked on without looking back. A few minutes later, he roared past on his bike with one of the lunch-shift waitresses on the seat behind him, arms wrapped around his waist.

Destiny smiled and shook her head, feeling sorry for the girl and hoping that one day Jesse would fall head over heels for someone and get a taste of his own medicine.