“Wait,” I say. “I’m being wooed?”
He gives me a wink and pauses playing for a second to check his watch.
“How is this wooing happening?” I ask.
“It’s a secret,” he says.
And Grandma scoffs. “Don’t you dare fall for it. He has a five-second attention span.”
“I’ve actually been working on that,” he says. “Think I’ve got it up to eight.”
“This is no joke. Toy with June at your own peril.”
He frowns. “Audrey, I have no intention of hurting anyone.”
“You never do. But it happens with alarming regularity.”
And while I have no idea exactly what’s going on here between him and me, the last thing I want to do is spend the night listening to them argue. “What are you going to play next?”
Nash’s gaze jumps to me and something in him eases. Perhaps the hard line of his jaw and the set of his wide shoulders. “I haven’t decided. Any requests?”
“It would be nice to hear some Linda Ronstadt,” says Grandma with a sniff.
“I can do that. How about ‘Blue Bayou’?” He starts playing the new song. “I’m waiting, by the way. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Waiting for what?” asks Grandma, with much suspicion.
“Shouldn’t be long now. You’ll see.” The man’s dedication to pissing off my grandmother tonight is supreme. I mean, he says he fears the stick, but I really don’t think it’s true. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be living on the edge like this. Just throwing caution to the wind.
What we need is a distraction. Something casting him in a better light would be useful.
“I forgot to tell you about the anonymous donations,” I say with a winning smile. “Someone’s been spending serious money helping various causes around town.”
Grandma’s ire retreats a smidgeon. “He’s always been generous.”
“It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of lives,” I say. “Must be nice getting to give so much to people.”
He just smiles.
“There was a proposed program for unhoused people in the area that fell through due to lack of funding last year,” says Grandma. “I could ask around for the details if you like?”
“Please,” he says.
“You’re not expecting anything else from the record company, are you?” she asks.
He shakes his head. “Farmer’s bound to send more of his people sooner or later. But hopefully with the delivery of the Volvo, we get a break from them for a while.”
“The thought of Lady Caroline somewhere out there seething that she couldn’t snap her fingers and have you back is a pleasant one,” admits Grandma.
“Speaking of which,” I say. “Still not convinced I should keep the car.”
Grandma sets her phone aside. “Oh, you’re keeping it. You need a safe car that works. Those people take and take. We owe them nothing.”
“She’s right,” he says.
“Have him tell you about the first contract he signed when he was just starting out,” continues Grandma. “Took him years to get out from underneath it. Predatory doesn’t begin to cover some of their practices.”
Nash frowns. “Who could have guessed that a teenager signing a contract in the parking lot of a bar at two in the morning would turn out to be a bad thing?”
