Black Gold (16 page)

"Oh, no," Regina moaned as the little downtown came into view.

"Aw, come on, it's not that bad." In truth, it was a nice little downtown, bustling already at seven a.m., with trucks lined up outside the diner and a few ladies enjoying a walk down the street in brightly colored sweat suits. There were no other cars in front of Crenshaw Hardware, none but a very carefully maintained vintage Camaro that looked like it had been rebuilt with spare parts and a generous helping of faith.

As they parked, the front door opened and a man came out, wiping his hands on his pants and squinting into the sun. Regina caught her breath, which Chase took as a good sign, and he jumped out of the cab and around to the other side before she could bolt.

The young man's grin widened as Chase helped Regina out of the truck. In truth, he didn't even look twenty, more like an earnest and fresh-scrubbed eighteen. "Hey, Regina! It's about time you came to see me!"

Then he picked her up and spun her half way around, hugging for all he was worth, and even though Chase sort of wanted to throttle the kid, he kept himself in check for all their sakes, and crossed his fingers behind his back for luck as they headed inside.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The shop was clean and well organized, even if it looked like it belonged to another era, with its old wooden shelves and antique cash register. After Mason had given them a tour, showing off the improvements he'd made to the display cases and inventory, he dragged a couple of folding chairs into his little office in the back and poured coffee. "I just made it," he said proudly. "Because I knew you were coming."

Then he popped the top on his Mountain Dew. "You're still drinking that?" Regina said, laughing despite herself. Back when she'd been a brand new agent, she'd added "Mountain Dew" to the list of changes she had intended to make to her new client, along with a head-to-toe makeover and a new wardrobe. She knew better now. Fans would’ve responded to Mason, if they'd ever had the chance, for the same reasons she did. He was sweet and mischievous with a touch of devilish charm that girls would go crazy for.

"So, you're doing good, looks like," Mason said. "Guess settling down suits you."

He winked at Regina, and she felt her face go hot. "Oh… no…  I didn't settle down. I mean, not with
him
. We're not. We're just..."

"So we have a proposal for you," Chase interrupted.

Regina turned to gape at him. He didn't meet her eyes, but dug in his pocket for a folded piece of paper.

"What on earth is that?" she asked, but Chase ignored her.

"Would you mind...?" he asked, pointing to a battered old Truetone acoustic hanging from the wall.

"You play?" Mason slapped his knee. "I'd be glad to." He handed Chase the guitar and unfolded the piece of paper while Chase strummed a few chords.

"See, the thing is, I can write 'em, but I can't carry a tune to save my life," Chase said, winking at Regina.

"Chase Warner," she muttered, tempted to grab the guitar out of his hands and smash it over his head.

"Now, honey," he said softly. "You know I told you I didn't want you to hear this one until we found someone to sing it to you proper. That okay with you, son?"

Mason chuckled. "Happy to oblige."

Then the two of them started up as though they'd been sharing a stage forever.

The tune was a simple one, a romp through the key of C Major with a bluesy baseline. Mason hummed along, and instantly Regina remembered what had snagged her attention in the first place. His voice was fresh and irresistible, and he hit every note with the precision of a tuning fork.

As Chase picked out the melody, he seemed to get more comfortable, adding a few little riffs here and there among the chords. By the second time around, he nodded at Mason and the boy began to sing the words.

"Sometimes a fool loses his way

and he sits out every dance

Seems like it's never his lucky day

but sometimes a fool gets a second chance."

"Well," Mason said when the song was over, as Chase carefully leaned the guitar up against the old desk. "Don't suppose you want to tell me where you got the idea for that one."

"Nope," Chase said. All traces of amusement were gone now. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and he put his hands flat on his knees and took a deep breath. "That would be for the lady to say."

He was leaving it up to her. He'd written her a song, and managed to say everything—his history and hers, and theirs together and the future they could only dream of—in a few verses.

"Chase," she said softly, clutching her hands together tightly to keep them from trembling. "That was beautiful. And, Mason"—her voice cracked—"hearing you sing again, it reminds me..."

Why she'd gotten into this business? Not exactly. Because she hadn't gotten into this business to do anything but make money from other people's talent. Lots of money, acclaim, fame—until she could hold her head up high when she went back to Chicago for family visits.

Except that had never really been what it was about. As she looked around the crowded office, with its old black-and-white photos and softball trophies and the row of guitars, and out into the shop with its kegs of nails and rows of garden tools and paintbrushes, Regina understood clearly, for the first time in her life, what her business was really about.

"Underdog," she breathed. Underdog Enterprises. That wasn't a bad name, was it? Meredith wouldn't mind. She wouldn't be competing with Meredith. Or Carl either, for that matter. Because she wouldn't be searching out the Sherrys of the world, introducing them to the mainstream with the promise of money and fame.

No. She'd be looking for the odd ducks, the ones who didn't quite fit. The ones who had a unique song to sing and a singular dream to share—not for the hordes, but for the few who really connected with their music. The ones who were more comfortable in a back-roads dive than on a stage in front of a huge crowd.

"Chase," she whispered, almost unable to breathe from the excitement. "Do you suppose Buddy would let me book some acts?"

Chase chuckled with what sounded a lot like relief. "Hell yes, woman. And God knows, after we lose Sherry, we're going to need something to keep the regulars entertained."

"I don't know that I follow," Mason said agreeably, taking a big gulp of Mountain Dew. "But that wasn't a half bad song. You got more like that?"

"Well, not quite like that," Chase said, reaching for Regina's hand and giving it a squeeze. "That was sort of a one-off. You now, to get the girl, and all. But I imagine I could come up with a few more for the right client."

"I always thought," Mason drawled, leaning his chair back on its legs. "I mean, not to second-guess my agent, because she's tops, but I always thought what she and I were missing was a decent songwriter."

Regina burst out in delighted laughter. "Give me a break," she said. "I was new back then. You suppose you could give me another shot?"

"Well, I don't know," Mason said, his voice turning serious. "I mean hell yeah, I'd love to sing again. Kind of miss being on the road. But I love it here in Wyoming. I don't want to move."

"What if we could fix it so you could do both? Maybe hire some help so you could record now and then, find you a nice independent label, someone with a compatible vision?"

Mason nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that. Hell yes I would. Sometimes it gets a little frustrating, you know, singing to the mice and the old guys who come in here with their hearing aids turned off."

"I need a few weeks," Regina said, the wheels turning faster in her mind. "I have to..."

Give notice. And set up her own corporation. And talk to the clients she wanted to take with her. She wouldn't take anyone who was currently earning money for the Jester Group, just the ones they hadn't been able to place. The square pegs looking for round holes, the offbeat and publicity-shy and quirky.

She could do this. Her expenses were ridiculously low. There were a thousand venues between Nashville and North Dakota, all of them eager to book acts backed by someone with her credentials. And the indie labels were doing the most interesting work these days. She couldn't wait to get her hands on a phone and… "We need to go," she burst out, grabbing Chase's arm. "I've got calls to make."

Chase looked both relieved and pleased. He raised his coffee cup in a toast. "Here's to the future," he said as two coffee cups clinked against a can of Mountain Dew.

"So I take it I'm back on the payroll?" Mason asked.

"If you’re willing," Regina beamed.

"Good deal." He turned to Chase. "Man, I feel bad for you. You sure can write—it's just a damn shame you can't sing."

Chase laughed. "Yeah, I hear you. I'm just hoping she'll find something else to keep me busy."

EPILOGUE

Sherrilyn Cates—Carl had dumped the name "Stiletta" as part of his development of his latest client—returned for a farewell concert at Buddy's only days after she signed with one of Nashville's top labels. She seemed a little embarrassed by the custom-made, thigh-high boots and shimmering metallic dress. She looked great, though. Her hair had been trimmed into a shoulder-grazing, magenta-tipped bob and her makeup was simple except for her bright red lips, which Carl said was an homage to Regina. He'd been a good sport about Regina's new venture, sending her half a dozen clients he hadn't been able to place.

Regina crowded around a table with all of Chase's friends from the ranch. She'd gotten to know them well in a short time. Chase came down to Nashville on his weeks off, but she came up to Conway sometimes when she couldn't stand to go three weeks without seeing him, and that meant sharing close quarters with six other people. She'd even learned to share a bathroom with Matthew and Jayne.

There was no way a long-distance relationship was a permanent solution, of course, but there were a few logistical issues to be settled. Like where Underdogs Talent Management should be located. And if that was going to be here in Conway, where they would build their dream house.

For now, they weren't in any hurry.

Harry had declined to come along on this trip, since there was a football game at his new high school and he'd been drafted to varsity as a sophomore. Besides, Sherry had confided, there was a girl.

"A girl," Chase had repeated, eyebrow raised. "Sounds like trouble."

Then he'd pulled Regina into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her, to the cheers of the assembled crowd.

"Chase!" she'd scolded. "Not in front of everyone!"

But she didn't struggle very hard to get off his lap. After all, she fit perfectly.

"As if it weren't enough good news to have Sherry back for a visit, we've got another special guest tonight," Buddy said, waving his microphone. "They're going to sing a duet for you. So let's hear it for Mason Crenshaw." The polite smattering of applause swelled as Mason took the stage.

"A friend of ours wrote this one," he said, giving Sherry a sideways grin as he strummed the opening of "Sometimes a Fool." Regina had noticed a lot of that going on between the two of them, significant looks and whispered conversations and frantic texting whenever the other one was out of the room.

Well, that wasn't the worst thing in a world, she thought to herself. Sometimes love was the magic that turned a good performance into a great one.

As one duet segued into another, Chase excused himself to get drinks from the bar, and found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with Jimmy.

"Good to have Regina up to visit," Jimmy said formally. He was the master of understatement, the most polite of all Chase's friends. Then he frowned and leaned in close. "You ever going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Chase asked.

"That you're rich, man. That you could buy the whole damn ranch if you wanted to."

Chase shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. I kind of like knowing she's not after me for my money."

Then he picked up her gin and tonic—heavy on the tonic, the way she liked it—and headed back to the table. Jimmy didn't need to know that he'd already told Regina everything. Or that she didn't care. Or that he'd never touched a cent of his father's money, for that matter. It was safely tied up in the investment accounts Chase had set up before leaving Arkansas.

And there was a pretty little diamond ring down at Panacek's Jewelers that he had an eye on. If—when—he bought it, it would be with money he'd earned with his own hard work.

He slid back into his chair and handed his girl her drink. "They don't sound too bad," he said, leaning in close.

She smiled. "You think?" she whispered back.

"Yeah, they've got potential. But then again, you've always known a good thing when you see it."

<<<<>>>>

The End

*   *   *

Did you enjoy BLACK GOLD?

The Boomtown Boys series continues with Calvin and Roan’s story in BLACK HEAT, available late 2013. Read an excerpt below, or check out more books by Ruby Laska now!

A Man for the Summer

Heartbreak, Tennessee

Mine ‘Til Monday

Mountain Song

Along for the Ride

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About Ruby Laska

Ruby Laska grew up in a small midwestern town, where her passions included state fairs, Vince Gill, and the local library. A recent West Coast transplant, she lives and works in Emeryville, California. When not writing, Ruby loves to explore San Francisco’s neighborhoods, stopping in at every shoe store and searching for the perfect cup of joe.

Please enjoy this excerpt from… BLACK HEAT