Southern Rocker Boy (Southern Rockers Book 1) (12 page)

The minute the door closed behind us she finally looked at me. “Take a picture with me,” she said before she leaned in to take a selfie with her phone. She adopted a big smile as she snuggled close and snapped the picture.

It was the last thing she said before she busied herself with the phone, uploading her photo for her legion of fans to see. I shadowed her into the hotel and all the way up to her suite. She didn’t bother bidding me a goodbye before she slammed the door between us. With a shrug I headed back downstairs.

The limo brought me back to the club a little before six o’clock in the evening. Lacy was in the dressing room listening to music on her headphones. I hadn’t eaten anything and suddenly I was starving. I motioned for her to take off her earphones, which she did reluctantly. “I’m hungry. Let’s grab something.”

She shook her head. “Have you seen what she has me wearing tonight?” she said. “I’m not eating anything.”

I opened the garment bag to find a black polyester body suit that left little to the imagination. It zipped almost to the crotch, and there was a neon red bra hanging around the hanger, which I presumed Gay wanted on display in this ridiculous outfit.

“You can’t wear this,” I said.

“Tell that to the boss,” she said as she went back to her music.

“I will,” I said, even though she couldn’t hear me. I took the stairs up to Gay’s office two at a time. She was on the phone when I walked in, and Jasper was nowhere to be seen. She motioned for me to sit and wait.

“Yeah, Ty. Jacinda escorted him back to the hotel for dinner. But it’s going great. Once he sees how the crowds go wild tonight, he’ll have an offer to us by the time they do a video. I’m sure of it.” She laughed. “I know, right? Love you, honey. Bye bye.”

She turned to me with a jubilant smile. “Did I tell you or did I tell you? Your days working in the factory are over, my friend. It’s nothing but the fast track to the high life now.”

Such promises made my stomach hurt. It all seemed too good to be true. “Great,” I said to appease her. I knew I had to grease some wheels if I was going to convince her to change Lacy’s wardrobe. She couldn’t walk on that stage looking like some hooker. That wasn’t who she was. That was never who she was.

“So what’s up, hon?”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t like what you picked out for Lacy to wear.”

Her eyebrow arched. “Oh?”

“Apparently there’s a very fine line between singer and stripper,” I said with a lopsided grin, trying to keep the humor light.

“Indeed,” she agreed immediately with a hard gleam in her eye.

“Why do you hate her, Gay?”

She pursed her lips. “I don’t hate her, Jonah. I just don’t trust her. I don’t like her kind.”

“What kind is that?” I wanted to know.

“Entitled,” she answered simply. “She’s no different than that prissy little thing you had to escort back to her room.”

I laughed. “There’s a big difference between Lacy and Ariel,” I said. “Lacy is warm. She’s faceted. She’s like a rosebud. You want to pull away the layers to see what’s hidden inside, but it’s more beautiful just to let her bloom.”

Gay shook her head with a humorless laugh. “She got to you, too. I can’t believe it.” She spun out of her chair and began to pace around her office.

“Maybe there’s more to her than you think,” I offered helplessly. It was clear that far too many people involved at Southern Nights couldn’t stand her, and yet no one would tell me why. So she got knocked up? It wasn’t the most shocking thing in the 21
st
century. And it seemed to me that the man should share some of the responsibility, rather than skip out of the country altogether. I couldn’t figure out why Jacinda, and now seemingly Gay, would take his side.

She studied me thoughtfully. “Show it to me,” she challenged. “Show me what you see. Show us all what you see. Otherwise there are only so many favors left that I can do for her.”

She turned her back on me and pulled out her cell phone, which was a clear dismissal as any.

I went back to the dressing room where she lost herself in the music. I pulled off the earphones, which met with immediate protest. “What are you doing?”

“Kidnapping you,” I said as I grabbed her wrist.

“What?”

“We need to eat,” I tossed over my shoulder. “And you need to go shopping.”

We were at the mall within minutes. She was uncharacteristically stunned silent as we entered the shopping center. Despite our regular crowds at the club, and any dreams for success in the future, we were able to meander through the place anonymously as we looked for a boutique that would give her the makeover she needed.

“She really gave you money to shop for me?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m spending this myself.”

She shook her head and pulled back, but I kept her wrist in my grip. “I can’t let you do that, Jonah.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “You can go back to the club and slip into that cat suit and walk out onto that stage looking for your stripper pole.” I glanced at her. “It’s all up to you.”

She pursed her lips tightly as she relented. “Fine. But I pick the store.”

I grinned. “By all means,” I said as I gave her the lead with the wave of a hand.

All in all we went to three stores. She ended up with a pair of black leggings with lace down either side of the leg, along with a red, cropped, short-sleeve sweater that bared her tummy. I could tell by the way she filled it out that people lucky enough to stand close could still get some of the details of that lacy red bra she would wear underneath.

It was our only compromise.

We topped it off with a leather cadet cap. She modeled it in front of the mirror. “Makes me want to cut all my hair off,” she said.

“Don’t you dare,” I said as I touched her long, silky locks. Our eyes met and held before she finally turned away.

We settled for some food from the food court, finding a spot in one of the tables under the brightly lit canopy. “You really spent too much, Jonah.”

I shrugged. “It’s only money,” I said like a man who had any.

She laughed. “I’ll pay you back. I promise.” She glanced down at the bags at her feet. “But next time, let’s go to a flea market or a thrift store. They have the coolest stuff at half the price.”

“You need something to wear tomorrow,” I pointed out.

She gulped back a sip of water. “Yeah.”

“So meet me at the club at three o’clock. We’ll go to your thrift stores and then eat some crazy vegan food. It’ll be a hipster Sunday.”

“Jonah,” she said and it drew over my senses like a slow, open-mouthed kiss. She couldn’t deny me. Not now. Not when I knew she was free.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Jacinda,” I said finally, which forced her to look away. “I thought you had someone. You led me to believe you were taken.”

“I am,” she said.

“By a man,” I corrected softly. “And it was stupid,” I said. “It was a pathetic substitute. I’d rather sing on that stage with you for five minutes than spend a thousand evenings with a thousand Jacindas.”

“Don’t say things like that, Jonah. Please. It doesn’t help anything. I’m no freer now than I was yesterday. My son is my priority. It goes Cody, then career. There’s no room for anything else.”

“I get that,” I said, thinking of what I would do for Mama and Leah. “I’m not here to complicate things for you, Lacy. I just want to know you. You can drive the car. Just stop long enough to let me in.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I grinned. “I never do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be performing in front of a major music producer in,” I looked at my watch, “two hours.”

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“A little,” I admitted. “Are you?”

She thought about it before saying, “A lot.” We laughed. “I don’t know. It’s like… I waited all this time and jumped through all these hoops. It’s hard to believe that ‘the’ moment is actually here. You know?”

I nodded, though I really didn’t. All of it was surreal to me. Ever since I came to Austin, I’ve been sideswiped by those kinds of moments left and right. “You’re going to blow everyone away,” I said.

Again she laughed. “Thanks.” Her eyes met mine. “For everything.”

I smiled. “Anytime.”

I think both our nerves were jangled by the time we took the stage that night. Even Gay seemed a little nervous as she took her place behind the piano. The minute we sent the signal to the lighting crew, we heard Jacinda’s voice announce, in the same way she had that afternoon, “Welcome to Southern Nights, y’all! Give a rowdy welcome to our very own Blaze, featuring Jonah  ‘Magic Fingers’ Riley on lead guitar!”

I clenched my jaw as I slid Lacy a glance, but she was already in the zone. Jacinda had no doubt meant to rattle her, but it seemed to fire Lacy’s resolve to keep it together. The lights hit us and we smiled and waved toward the crowd. Then she looked at me and counted out silently, using a slight nod of her head, so that we could get started.

The band filled in softly behind us, filling out the sound as her voice rose. We let her carry the song on the strength of her vocal alone as the crescendo built.

The crowd ate it up. They especially loved Gay, who tore up that honky tonk piano until every person in the joint was on their feet. It was like rock and roll church.

Lacy was on her feet, dancing to the beat and making her fans even crazier. I played to the gals down front, including two from the night before. They had written “Jonah Rocks” on their chest in purple glitter, which made me laugh. I blew them a kiss as I went back to center stage where Lacy was wrapping it up.

“That’s our very own Gay Hollis on the piano, y’all,” she told the crowd, who nearly hollered the roof down. Gay waved and blew kisses to the crowd.

“We’re going to slow it down a bit,” she told everyone as we both took our places on our stools again. “We’re going to talk about love,” she said, which made one of the guys in the back scream out, “We love you, Lacy!”

She chuckled. “So you know what I’m talking about. And I know you know what I’m talking about when I tell you sometimes love is hard. Sometimes it hurts so bad all you want to do is reach out and hold someone. Touch someone.”

The men in the audience loved the sound of that.

“This song is about that,” she said. With a nod of her head, Gay played the piano intro. The bassist joined her, and I joined her after that. Lacy’s voice was like silk as she sang. It seemed sacrilege to join her, but singing with her was as close as we’d come to making love.

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Gay played us out and the crowd rewarded us with thunderous applause. “Thank you!” Lacy called out. She stood, as did I, as crew members raced the stools off stage. “It is my honor to welcome a new addition to our band,” she looked at me with a teasing furrowed brow. “What was it, ‘magic fingers’?” she asked and I shrugged. “Please give a warm welcome to Jonah Riley everybody.”

The girls screamed loud as I took center stage. This was my moment. And I was nervous as hell. That crowd of people, larger than what had come out the night before, looked at me expectantly. I just closed my eyes and began to play. I envisioned myself back on the farm, on that old log by the creek, singing for the fish and the birds and the fields of grass. When I got into the groove, I opened my eyes.

The crowd was grooving with me. Some girls in front were singing along. I spotted an older woman my mom’s age, who probably learned that song when she was a kid. I walked to the edge and sang with her. A girl’s blush rose in her cheeks as she looked away, which only made me want to sing to her more, but I spread the love around to all the expectant faces looking up at me.

The hum in the crowd grew as I finished the song. They loved it. I gave a victorious smile to Lacy, who mirrored it. “Magic fingers, indeed,” she told the crowd. “Lucky guitar.”

Before I could wonder whether or not she meant that, the girls in the audience screamed loud in agreement. “We love you, Jonah!” they screamed.

“All right, y’all. You know what time it is,” she said. “It’s time to join together with the band.”

We ended our set with a rocking anthem that had everyone singing along. They screamed loud for an encore minutes after we left the stage. I picked Lacy up in a strong grip and spun her around. Even Gaynell was pleased as she joined us. “Now that’s a show!” she declared.

She didn’t say one word about Lacy’s outfit.

But she did send bottles of champagne backstage to celebrate our triumph. I toasted Lacy, who returned it, but she quietly slipped away from the chaos minutes after every glass was filled. I caught up with her near the dressing room. “Leaving so soon?” I asked.

“I have to,” she said and I nodded. I now knew what that meant. She was a mama. She needed to be with her son. “See you tomorrow?” I asked.

She hesitated before she said. “See you at three,” with a small, hopeful smile.

It was the happiest I had felt in a long damned time.

True to her word, she showed up promptly at three o’clock, parking her car next to where I had been waiting in my truck for about ten minutes.

“I’ll drive,” I offered.

She laughed. “You’d better. I’m on fumes as it is.”

It was payday and she hadn’t made it. It made me sad for her. At least I had Mama to help balance the load. I knew that she lived with her mother, but I knew better than to ask her about it. Her whole personal life seemed like a sore subject.

She directed me to SoCo, the hip little district located on South Congress Avenue. We parked and walked most of the way down the eclectic neighborhood. “I thought you were some kind of emo skater girl. Turns out you’re a hippie.”

She held up the peace sign with two fingers. “Groovy, man. Far out.”

I laughed as we passed a funky storefront. “Now this feels like Austin,” I said, so we entered.

“Keepin’ it weird,” she agreed as we perused the merchandise. We could hear the live music coming from the street.

“You ever played down here?” I asked.

She chortled. “Briefly.”

“What does that mean?”

She sighed. “Let’s just say I have a bit of a reputation and leave it at that.”

“I’m afraid I can’t leave it at that,” I said, adopting a French accent. “In order to know how to dress you, I need to know who you are.”

She laughed. “Well, according to rumors, let’s see…,” she rounded the rack to meet me face to face, ticking off each label with her fingers. “I’m a whore. I’m a bitch. I’m hard to work with. I’m an opportunist. Oh, and the best one, I’m a baby mama looking for a rich sugar daddy. That one is my fave.”

She walked past me to look through another rack. It was clear these labels bothered her. I tried to keep the mood light. I kept the accent and said, “I’m not sure I know what kind of outfit that would demand.”

Her eyes met mine. “Apparently it’s a black bodysuit and a red bra.”

“Come on, now,” I tried to assuage. “If Gay didn’t think you had star potential, why would she have hired you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she dismissed as she held up a sleeveless short dress in navy blue. “What about this one?”

“Try it on,” I told her. She nodded and headed toward the dressing rooms. The shop girl used the opportunity to approach me and welcome me to the store. “Your girlfriend looking for something in particular?”

I opened my mouth but saying, “Something non-whorish, non-opportunistic and non-bitchy,” would have sounded harsh to someone who wasn’t privy to the conversation. All I could say was, “She’s not my girlfriend,” as if that was some important detail she needed to know.

It was mostly so she wouldn’t accidentally say that in front of Lacy and send her screaming from the store.

“Oh,” she said as she inched a little closer.

“What would go with that blue dress?” I asked her, adding her name for good measure, “Emily?”

She smiled wide as she headed to another rack of clothes that hadn’t been put out on the floor yet. “Coral is hot. You could try this,” she said as she pulled off a sheer shirt in a bright coral color. “You just wear it unbuttoned over the top and tie it at the waist. We have some awesome accessories,” she added, grabbing a belt in the same shade of navy blue, as well as a chunky necklace with a coral sun shaped like a starburst. She was showing me the matching boots when Lacy reemerged, in her socks, to model the dress.

We added all of Emily’s suggestions, which made Lacy look hip and accessible. It was sexy without being slutty. “Bag it up,” I told Emily.

“No, Jonah,” she said. “That’s almost a hundred dollars.”

“So?” I asked. “We get paid tonight. It’s all good.”

Emily took the purchases to the register so Lacy touched my arm with her hand, saying softly, “I don’t want to owe you.”

I leaned against the counter. “The way I see it, I wouldn’t be able to buy these things if it weren’t for you. I owe
you
.”

That seemed to shut her up. Emily bagged the bounty and we headed out to eat some tacos for a late lunch. I suggested margaritas but she declined, opting instead for water. “Gotta protect the vocal chords,” she told me. “Something you have to consider now.”

I shrugged. “I’m no singer.”

“Tell that to our near sold out crowd last night,” she chuckled.

“Please,” I dismissed as I dug into our complimentary chips. “You’re the star. Not me. I’m just collecting a check, that’s all.”

“But you love it,” she said. “And you’re good at it. You could have a career if you really wanted it.”

I thought about that. At barely twenty-four, I didn’t really know what I wanted to be when I grew up. Farming had been a no-brainer throughout my youth, but those days were over now. If it wasn’t my Daddy’s land, it didn’t interest me to continue the tradition.

That dream had died with him.

She saw how my mood darkened with my thoughts, so she changed the subject. “When did you start singing?”

“I was playing before I could say complete sentences,” I said. “Daddy never shooed me away from his shiny guitar, so I grabbed it every chance I got. According to my parents, anyway,” I added with a smile. “He loved music and he played, so I guess I just wanted to be like him. I don’t think that ever changed, even when he died a few months ago. I still want to be my father’s son.”

Her face softened. “I’m sorry, Jonah.”

I shrugged. “We had to move from the farm to the city just to make ends meet. I met you that same week.”

Her eyes widened. “So you’re, like,
literally
right off the farm?”

“Right down to my dirty boots,” I said.

She grabbed her bag and started to rise from the table. I had to grab her hand and pull her back. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get a refund and give you your money back.”

I pulled her back to the chair. “Lacy, sit.” She paused only a bit before she finally relented and sat back down. “We have the same goal here. We both want to do right by our families. The way to do that? Kick ass during our performances. We’ve got at least six weeks to make an impression on that Jasper Carrington character. If we can do that, you can pay me back with interest if you want. Until then, consider it a gift, one band mate to another.”

She sighed. “If you’re sure.”

“Don’t you know about us country boys? We never say anything unless we’re sure.”

She chuckled. “Let’s just say I’m not used to men in general shooting me straight.”

I nodded. I got that. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

She offered another shrug. “We all have our sob stories to tell,” she dismissed.

“So tell me a good story,” I said as our tacos were delivered to the table.

She thought about it for a moment. “Cody learned how to sing his first song,” she said, and her face lit up with motherly pride.

“
’Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star’
?” I asked with a grin.

“’
Free Bird
’,” she corrected, flashing the horns with her fingers. I laughed. “So what’s yours?” she asked. “Tell me one of your good stories.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m at lunch with the prettiest girl in Austin,” I said as I toasted her with my glass of water. She gave me a reproachful look, so I said, “Shooting you straight, darlin’. One-hundred percent.”

We arrived at the club a little before six, having spent much of the afternoon prowling SoCo. We didn’t buy anything else, except for a stuffed frog I knew she had to spend the very last five dollars she had in her purse. “Cody likes frogs,” she said with a sheepish grin. I gave her a side hug and she didn’t pull away.

She ended up putting it on our shared makeup table in the dressing room. I left her alone to change, since I only had to switch shirts. When I joined her later, she had already done her hair and was polishing her makeup. I looked at her through her reflection. With the funky pigtails and the colorful clothes, she looked like a teenager. “Gay is going to hate it,” she promised.

I didn’t see how. It didn’t matter what clothes she wore. Lacy Abernathy was a sexy woman. My goal was to keep her from looking cheap, because she was anything but.

I put my hands on her shoulders. “Just play the crowd. Show it doesn’t matter if you show skin.”