Page 19 of Tequila Burn


Font Size:  

Chapter Eight

––––––––

“You okay?” Hudson squeezesmy hand as we make our way into the Nashville office of Rock Saw Records.

“Yeah.” I force a smile, so nervous I feel like I might puke at any second.

When Hudson suggested I come to Nashville with him for a long weekend to take care of some business, I had no idea I’d be visiting his label or meeting the woman he will be touring with for eight months. As happy as I am to be with him, having enjoyed our weekend together immensely, right now I’m wishing I was back in Florida laughing with Emma or shopping for counter tops.

“You look beautiful by the way.” Hudson’s eyes travel down my body in a way that makes me feel like I’m standing next to him naked.

“If I had known we were coming here I would have done better than jeans and a tee.” I tug at the bottom of my baseball style t-shirt with my free hand.

“You look perfect.” He smiles, adjusting the backward baseball cap on his head.

Considering he’s wearing a faded tee and ripped jeans, I shouldn’t feel so out of place. But then again he makes the clothing look like a million bucks whereas I feel frumpy.

Pulling me down a long corridor, we take the elevator up to the second floor and step out into a wide open space with a large reception desk directly in front of us. The woman behind the counter smiles.

“Good morning, Mr. James. Jerry, Annabelle, and Jane are in the main conference room.”

“Thanks, Bea.” He gives the older lady his dimpled grin and even though she’s way too old for him, it’s immediately clear that it doesn’t lessen the affect he has on her.

“Jane is here too?” I ask, suddenly even more nervous.

I’ve only met his PR rep once and she didn’t seem all that happy to see me. I can only imagine how she’s going to feel knowing Hudson dragged me to a meeting that I have no business being a part of.

“Relax, Len. It’s only an informal meeting to go over scheduling and PR for the tour. Nothing you can’t sit in on.”

“Easy for you to say,” I grumble under my breath as Hudson drags me behind him through the open conference room door.

My eyes hit Jane first. She looks almost exactly as she did the day I met her at the Travis Travers concert, except even more annoyed. Next to her is a man I can only assume is Jerry. He’s middle aged with dark hair that has gray peppered around his temples.

“There he is,” Jerry booms, pushing away from the table as we enter. “How are you, Hudson?” He steps in front of us, shaking Hudson’s hand before his eyes land on my face. “And who is this beautiful creature?” He reaches for my hand, lifting it to his lips to lay a light kiss on the back. His reaction to me helps my nervousness to dissipate, but not completely.

“Jerry, this is Lennon. Lennon, my manager Jerry.”

“So nice to meet you, Lennon,” Jerry says, releasing my hand as he steps back and gives me a once over.

“It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“You remember J.” Hudson gestures to Jane who gives me a tense nod but makes no attempt to stand.

“Nice to see you again, Jane,” I offer.

“You too.” She gives me a forced smile before looking down at the folder in front of her.

I know Hudson claims that once you get to know her she’s not so bad, but I have a hard time envisioning her as anything other than the high strung wench she comes across as.

“And this.” He gestures toward the end of the table where I take in the other person in the room. Only it’s not just any other person... “This is Annabelle. Anna, this is Lennon.”

“Hello, Lennon,” she purrs in a southern accent that instantly makes my stomach bottom out.

Awesome, so not only is she drop dead gorgeous but she also has quite possibly the cutest voice I’ve ever heard. Fucking great.

“Hi,” I squeak, offering an awkward wave and instantly feeling stupid for doing so.

“If you guys wanna have a seat we can get this done and you all can be on your way,” Jerry offers, gesturing to the two chairs across the table from where he and Jane are sitting and caddy corner from Annabelle at the head of the table.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com