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“Well, I’m about to find out. I’ll be right back,” and I step past them, looking around the bar for a way out.
“Who’s Mona?” Clay asks Emma, and I pause to hear what she says.
“Oh, we work for her.” The perfect answer.
It’s a lot more crowded than I thought, and I realize there’s a good possibility of a line out front. If not, then there are certainly people lingering around the entrance, and that’s not good. I spot the red glowing exit sign and head for the hallway. I hate going out the back door, but this conversation can then be private.
Stepping out the door, I shiver from the cold and laugh at myself as I stare out at the darkness of the trees directly in front of me. I hate being in the dark, and I’m thankful there’s a floodlight on so the back is somewhat illuminated.
Dialing Mona’s number, she picks up on the first ring.
“Well, aren’t you out a little late this evening?” she says mischievously. I lean back against the door to settle into the call.
“Tell me about it. Emma dragged us out to Smokey’s.” I scan the back area to see if there is any movement, but there isn’t. Just a couple of dumpsters and a few chairs lined up against the back of the building.
“How’s the talent there tonight? Any good?”
“They’re all right. They don’t even come close to the band that used to play here.” I look down and realize my fingers are tapping against my leg. I guess I’m more nervous back here than I thought. But then, itdoeshave that murder-scene-from-every-horror-movie kind of vibe.
“Well, speaking of playing, what are you doing on Black Friday?”
Her question catches me off guard and I can’t help but laugh. “Shopping.”
She snorts. “You know what I mean. Are you going home or will you be in the city?”
“City.” She knows that I never go home unless forced. My relationship with my parents all but ended when I was eighteen, and the thought that I might accidentally run intohimis more than I can handle.
“Talk to the girls—a job was offered I think you’ll want. It’s in Nashville.”
“Nashville!” I jerk up off the door. “We haven’t been there in years. Sounds good to me . . . I’ll run it by them and let you know.”
“Thanks. I’ll send the details. Hope you girls are having a good time.”
“We are; it was needed.” I run my free hand through my hair and let out a deep breath. A white cloud forms in front of me and I shiver.
“I hear ya. I could use a little getaway myself. Keep in touch and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Perfect. Bye, Mona.”
She clicks off the phone and I look down at mine. Mona loves spending the holidays with her family, so if she wants to do this, then it must be good. I also love Nashville. If she’d said L.A., I might have hesitated, but I’ll always go to Nashville.
TWO AND A half hours have flown by. Rich kept pouring and I just sat back and enjoyed the music. I’ve heard better, but I’ve definitely heard worse too. But what I realize is it’s been a long time since I’ve just sat and listened to someone else play.
I’ve always found it interesting to listen to the way people play. Some play because they can, and others play because it’s the way they speak. The originals that the band performs are good and could have real potential, but then again I shouldn’t be surprised—Rich did bring them in. He’s always had a gift for spotting talent.
Sometime around one, I decide to call it a night and make my way over to Clay. He’s probably not ready to leave yet, but he’ll get back to the house whenever he’s ready. He always does.
I find him on the other side of the room talking to two of the three girls from the beginning of the evening. The blonde isn’t with them, and a wave of disappointment washes over me. I spent most of the evening thinking about her and cursing myself for not seeking her out, and there was a huge part of me that hoped she would come back and order another drink, but she never did. And then on the walk to Clay, I scan the room hoping to see her one more time, but nope. Lots of blonde hair, but none curly like hers.
Damn, well, that sucks.
Clay, the brunette, and another blonde are laughing as I join their circle. By the way he’s looking at the little brown-haired one, he’s more interested than I thought. Maybe she’ll be his challenge, even after this evening is over, and I can’t help but smile. Clay likes girls, but rarely does he allow himself to open up. He’s guarded, understandably so, but between the two of us, he’s always been the one to want a relationship.
“Hey, man,” Clay says, smiling at me. The two girls turn and stare. The brunette’s eyes get big as she remembers what I overheard, and I give her a knowing smirk.
“Lips, huh?” She looks thoroughly embarrassed and drops her gaze to the ground.
“What are you talking about?” Clay asks as he looks from me to her, and then back to me.
