I pulled off my T-shirt, tits on display and said, “Giddy up.”
After stripping down to our skivvies, we both climbed in. He wrapped his strong arms around me and it was like I was transported to heaven. The temperature of the water was perfect, hot but not scolding, and there were tiny jets distributing the water like a jacuzzi tub. A soft warm breeze traveled through the open barn doors, setting the tone. I could stay out here forever in his arms, surrounded by nature.
“Who has a tub in their barn?” I asked.
“You know I’ve always been a tinkerer. Jack-of-all-trades, master of none.”
“I can think of a few things you do very well.” I smirked.
He raised a single eyebrow.
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt this man. I told you Darla was my best friend but so was Edison. We met in kindergarten, and I remember I liked having him around. Even at five years old I sensed he was special, and I was lucky to have him in my life. During our freshman year of high school, people tried to sort us into separate queues. I was considered part of the popular clique, Darla was artsy, Edison was a bit of everything tech, band, track.
Despite the drama that comes with high school, we remained close. However, after our kiss in the park at twelve, we went our separate ways romantically. I was more experimental, and Edison was more of a true-blue monogamous man. He almost always had a girlfriend because he was sweet, charming, and loyal. Me, on the other hand I entertained several suitors at once and gained a bit of a reputation as a good time gal. I wrote a song by the same title, and it became one of Whiskey Wild’s biggest hits.
“You mentioned shit was going sideways with your label. Is it fixable?”
“I don’t want to bore you with that.”
“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
“I guess anything can be fixed if you make them enough money.”
“Well, Whiskey Wild has to be pulling in bank.”
“We are, but it’s a balancing act. You’re only as good as your last project, single, tour. And the label’s got a lot riding on us fulfilling our dates.”
“It sounds like you’re in between a rock and a hard place.”
“And now my assistant is coming to town, and she probably has a message from the label. I just ghosted everyone and everything and there will be repercussions for that.”
“What are you going to do?” Edison reached for my hand under the water, giving it a squeeze.
“I don’t know. So much goes into these tours. Booking arenas a year or more in advance. Hiring crew. And the fans spent their hard-earned money to see us and I’ve jeopardized all that. I think I fucked up.”
“Do you want me to be honest or empathetic?”
“Can’t I get a little of both?” I bit the inside of my cheek.
“My dad always said, ‘When you make a commitment, you build hope. And when you keep it, you build trust.’”
“Wow, Papa Birch just made me feel ten times worse.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, but I do think you need to do everything in your power to make your tour dates. I’m not saying you can’t take the time you need, but Whiskey Wild is still a business. How many tour dates have you missed?”
I took a long, silent swig of champagne. “Technically, I’ve only missed night two of the Heritage Fest. The second half of our tour doesn’t start for another three weeks.”
“So why are you so upset?”
“There was a statement. Whiskey Wild put out a statement. And the blogs are gossiping. Saying all kinds of stuff about me and Darla battling it out for the spotlight. They said I left the desert in tears. Which is true, but I was upset about Chap. Everyone is spinning it like there’s trouble in paradise with Whiskey Wild. There’re breakup rumors and the fans have gotten a hold of it and some of them are picking sides. Can you believe that?”
Edison looked around the barn as if he was searching for answers. “If you haven’t missed any tour dates, why put out a statement about missing tour dates?”
“I don’t know, that was all Chap and Darla.”
Edison’s eyes screamed disapproval.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
