Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
I thought for a minute. “Have they approved your request to sing as Kelly Jo Sullivan?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay, so maybe you offer a deal. You’ll come back to Nashville tomorrow if they approve that request.”
“I could try that.” She pulled her phone from her purse and stared at it. “It feels kind of scary though, to make a demand. They could find a dozen singers to replace me in an instant.” She snapped her fingers, and I grabbed her hand in the air.
“Don’t think like that. Be brave. Stand up for yourself.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll send the text.”
“Good girl.” I kissed her fingers and gave her hand back, and she typed a message.
A minute later, she dropped her phone into her bag. “Done. I sent one message to Wags, Duke, and the producer. Now I need a glass of wine.”
“That can be arranged.”
She looked over at me. “So would you be able to come back to Nashville with me tomorrow? I don’t expect you to.”
“I’ll make it work. I’m going to talk to Veronica tonight about the interviews she conducted this week. I’m hoping to have the hiring done in the next couple days. And Austin found an electrician for me—retired guy, a friend of our dad’s—who said he could finish the work this week. Barstools are scheduled to arrive on Thursday, and I think my brother or dad could handle that. Beer and liquor deliveries are complete. Point of sale system in. A/V is finished. If all goes well, I can still open next Friday night.”
“All will go well,” she said confidently. Her phone lit up, and she looked down. “Fuck. It’s Duke. He’s calling me.”
“Take the call,” I told her, even though my gut told me to grab her phone and throw it out the window. “He can’t hurt you.”
“You’re right. He can’t.” She sat up a little taller and tapped the screen. “Hello?”
TWENTY-ONE
kelly
“Babe, we talked about this. I said no.” Duke’s smooth baritone dripped with patronizing superiority.
“No, you said it could wait. And if you want me back in Nashville tomorrow, you’ll say yes. Otherwise, I’m going to enjoy the rest of my trip.”
“Stop playing around, Pixie.” His voice lost some of its buttery charm. “We’ve got work to do.”
“If you’ll introduce me as Kelly Jo, I’ll be home tomorrow,” I said.
“The producers won’t want that,” he said. “They agreed to Pixie Hart and that’s who you’ll have to be. She’s the name. And it makes no sense to me why you’d want to walk away from everything you’ve built.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you, Duke.”
“Well, the answer is no.”
“I’m going to wait to hear what the producers say.”
“They’ll say whatever I tell them to,” he scoffed. “Don’t forget who I am.”
“I know exactly who you are.”
“Good.” And he hung up.
I dropped my phone into my bag. “That did not go well.”
“I could tell.” Xander’s hands were white-knuckled on the wheel. “I’m sorry he’s such a dickhead.”
“It’s okay. Let’s forget about it for tonight.”
While Veronica and Xander sat at the dining room table to work, I helped Austin out in the kitchen. At first, Austin had insisted he didn’t need any help, but I told him I wasn’t raised to sit around while someone else did all the work, and besides, I liked cooking. He eventually agreed to let me do some peeling and chopping, and we stood side by side in the kitchen, chatting amiably and watching Xander and Veronica go over her notes from this week’s interviews.
I asked about his new business venture, if he planned to open up a storefront, how many people were on his wait list for a table and what a girl had to do to get on it.
He laughed. “I can put you on it. I just need some measurements, room size and all that.”
“No problem. I’m heading back to Nashville within the next couple days, and Xander’s actually going to come with me, so I’ll have him take the measurements and get them to you.”
“Xander’s going to Nashville?” Austin sounded surprised.
“I think so. He wants to make sure the cameras at my house are working, hire a new security team for me, do a risk assessment on my property. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he’s insisting.”
“Xander’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”
I laughed. “He is. And it’s such an inconvenience, with his bar opening soon and all.”
“Then it must really matter to him,” said Austin, right as we heard a sudden hammering on the ceiling above our heads.
“What’s that?” I tipped my head back and stared at the plaster.
“That is my children practicing their tap dancing on Owen’s bedroom floor. Ever since Veronica helped them create homemade tap shoes and taught them some steps, they’ve taken to rolling up the rug and letting loose on the oak, even though I’ve asked them to please use the basement instead.” He shook his head and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. “Excuse me for one second.”