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We arrive in Nashville right about two hours after we left Valley B and check in to our hotel room to freshen up. “Are you sure Drew was okay with you coming to Nashville for a girls-only weekend? Y’all have only been dating for a few months,” I ask as I take in her appearance.
She’s rocking a hot-pink top with jeans that fit like a glove. Her hair and makeup are on point too, meaning she’ll attract a lot of attention tonight. She’s gorgeous not dolled up, but when she puts in the effort…the rest of us pale in comparison.
She sticks her tongue out at me before grinning from ear to ear. “He trusts me, the same as I trust him. I have no interest in anything but throwing back some shots and listening to you take Nashville by storm with your wicked good singing,” she says as she leans into the bathroom mirror and applies pink lipstick to match her top.
“Besides, look at you tonight. You’re smoking hot, Britt. You may end up trying to bring someone back to the room with you.” She waggles her eyebrows as she takes me in.
I start laughing so hard tears leak from my eyes. “You’re messing up my mascara! Don’t make me laugh,” I say as I check my reflection. “Let’s go. I’m ready to get the night started.”
We grab our phones and make sure we have our IDs and debit cards before linking arms and heading out the door.
A few hours and two bars later, we’ve settled into a bar or maybe it’s more like a club calledFantasia.I know enough from my time with Hawk it’s Italian for fantasy. Hawk always tried to teach me how to speak Italian with him. Some words stuck more than others. The person I thought he was, is just that, a fantasy. In reality, he’s cold and callous. Maybe even heartless.
We ordered amaretto sours topped with black cherries before we found an area where you could sign up to sing. It would seem this is open mic night for this club. As we wait in line, Bree stands beside me taking it all in. “You should sing one of your songs, Britt. This could be the move to open you up to all your dreams.”
I appreciate her enthusiasm, but I’m not holding my breath. I love to sing, but not in front of big audiences. That’s the flaw in my dream. It would suit me fine if I could be a songwriter. I’d like to sing on my own terms, not someone else’s. But writing the songs, I’d gladly do that for a living. “I’m not ready yet. Besides, it seems like everyone else is singing covers of well-known songs,” I tell her.
She takes my hands and offers an encouraging squeeze. “Brittney, you can do this. You’re the most talented person I know. You’ve got it all! The looks, the lyrics, and the voice. Don’t hide behind your fear, stomp that shit down with the heel of your favorite cowboy boot. Show ’em what it means to be Brittney Jameson. You’re ready!”
I blink at her in surprise. “Thank you. But not everyone can face their fear like you can, Briella.”
Her face softens as she smiles and says, “I’m with you no matter what. You’ll blow their socks off. I believe in leading with your heart…and your heart wants this, babe.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say around a smile.
As we make our way to the front of the line, I see you can give the house band your music and they’ll play it, or you can sing alone. I spot an acoustic guitar in the corner available to anyone wanting to use it. I’d much rather have mine, but I can make this one work.
My heart pounds as I make my decision. I’m going to sing one ofmysongs. And it may as well be the one I wrote forhim.I can finally let it out without fear of judgement. No one here knows me or my past, and the one person who does is my best friend.
I make quick work of filling out my form and turning it in. The guy sitting at the table taking the forms seems important. He glances over my paperwork and smiles. “You’re going to sing an original, huh?” His deep voice hits me in the core.
I almost choke on my words. “Yeah,” I say, and clear my throat. “Yes. I’m a songwriter hoping to be heard.”
His dark eyes travel the length of my body from head to toe. They seem to twinkle with mischief. “Okay, love. You’re up in thirty,” he says. He grins and something about it makes my heart race faster than normal. I nod and make my way over to where Bree had stepped away to wait on me.
She has a knowing smile on her face. “What?” I ask immediately.
“He’s cute,” she says as she sips her drink before handing mine back to me. I take it from her and bring it to my lips. I turn and glance at him again to find he’s still watching me as he talks to other people. When he notices me staring, he winks. I’m stunned and turn back to Bree.
She laughs and says, “You’re blushing. You like him. Maybe I wasn’t wrong after all.”
I guffaw. “Briella, I just met the guy. I most certainly won’t bring him back to our hotel room. Need I remind you this is a girls’ weekend. No guys allowed. Besides, he seems way out of my league.”
She rolls her eyes theatrically. “Any man in this place would be lucky to have you. Stop shortchanging yourself. I forbid it.”
“Forbid?” I ask, blinking rapidly.
We both burst out laughing. “So, what did you decide to sing?” she asks seriously.
I shift my gaze to my drink, and this time I feel the blush heat my cheeks.
She pumps her fist. “Yes! I knew it! I’m so excited!”
Thirty minutes later, almost exactly, I’m announced on stage. Bree gives me a reassuring smile as I slide behind the microphone with the house guitar strapped across me. I glance out over the crowd and see all eyes on me. My heart thumps so fast and hard in my chest, it’s a wonder the microphone doesn’t pick it up.
Once I have it all adjusted, I pull the mic to my lips. “I’m Brittney Jameson. This is my first time to sing my own song in front of an audience, so go easy on me.” I smile as I get a feel for the guitar. “This is called ‘Broken Promise.’ It’s for anyone who knows what a broken promise feels like.”
I strum out the first few chords and lean into the mic to sing the words I wrote about Hawk.
