Second Chance Ranch: a Hope Springs novel (Entangled Bliss) (15 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“What did you do to your hair?” Nolan asked the second Sadie met him outside the studio Saturday morning. His scowl deepened as he lifted a section and tugged it closer to his face. Once he released her hair, his gaze moved to her stomach. “Looks like someone’s let her exercise and diet slide.”

Actually, she’d been working her ass off on the ranch. Yes, she’d put on a little weight, but she’d also gained muscle—a more athletic than skinny body. Not that Nolan would believe her. She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s fresh. Different.”
Me.

“The execs don’t want different. They want tried and true.” He opened the door and ushered her inside like the gentleman he wasn’t. When she’d first looked for an agent, she had visions of someone who’d love her voice and get her and be, like, a music cheerleader. She’d quickly learned that wasn’t how it was. While Nolan was known for being a shark when it came to negotiations and getting his clients the best deals, he also did that whole I’m-making-you-better-by-pointing-out-your-flaws-so-we-can-fix-you thing.

Despite his telling her she’d need a thick skin to be in this biz, and the pep talks she’d given herself reiterating the same thing, his words always stung. Over the years, she’d gotten accustomed to it, but after feeling pretty good about herself and being away from it all, she was surprised at how much it ate at her now.

Biting back a comment about
his
gut, she forced a smile on her face and focused on what was important—singing her best and impressing the record exec.

She met Linda Call, who told her how much she’d enjoyed hearing her sing in Louisiana, which was like a balm to her singer’s soul and helped her remember why she was doing this in the first place. She loved singing onstage—loved the music and the energy of the crowd and that moment when she connected to them and they connected to her.

After a few more minutes of polite small talk, she was ushered into the studio. Of course her brain chose that moment to relive her last awful performance onstage. Panic rose up as she stared at the large microphone, and her throat went bone-dry.

Think of something else.
She reached for a good singing experience and came up with the night she’d sung around the campfire. When she lingered on the memory, she started thinking of the faces glowing in the firelight—faces she missed so badly a pang went through her chest—so she redirected her thoughts to the pureness of music sung that way. To how big her voice had felt in all that open space.

Then she went bigger scale, back to the buzz of the audience in Louisiana and nailing the cover she’d been given to sing, and how that had led her to this moment right now. This awesome opportunity that she needed to take hold of and use to show that she deserved to be here.

I can do this, I can do this.
She stepped closer to the microphone and nodded to show she was ready, then took a deep breath to center herself. The song she usually liked to start with was Carrie Underwood’s “Do You Think About Me.”

The music started up, and despite her trembling hands, she hit the first notes—with less volume than usual, but the sound was pure. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on letting the song flow out of her. Only as she sang the lyrics, she found herself near tears. Royce clearly didn’t think about her the way she thought about him, but she knew he had to feel something. They had history. Sure, there were some bad memories mixed in there, but most of them were good.

Apparently, good wasn’t good enough.

Nolan and Linda stared at her through the thick glass between them, and neither looked impressed, which only made her voice shakier. Made the tears press down harder.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she finished. “I just need a quick water break, if that’s okay.”

A wide-eyed girl who had to be fresh out of high school brought in bottled water. Sadie imagined it was what she’d looked like when she’d first come to Nashville, dreams shining in her eyes. It sucked that each year had jaded her more and more.

Shake it off. No more living in the past. This is your future, so grab hold of it and show it who’s boss.
By the time she stepped up to the microphone again, she was ready. No more nerves or shakiness or thinking about Royce. For the better part of the morning, she went from one song to another, taking requests as Linda or Nolan threw them at her, and she managed to get a few smiles and nods out of them as well.

By the time she and Nolan settled across the desk from Linda, she felt like she’d at least given it her best.

I just hope it’s good enough.

“Don’t worry,” Nolan said, scooting forward in his seat. “She’ll lose ten pounds by the end of the month, and she’s just between hair extensions. Usually it’s platinum blond.”

Linda looked her over. “You know, she might be able to pull off red. I’m thinking lots of volume with extensions. Bright red, super-sexy image. With your face, and after some hard work on your body, we can do a provocative photo shoot and get some buzz going. Make the guys stop and drool a little, you know?”

Of course she wanted to look sexy, but where was the sexy line? Did that mean her needed-to-be enhanced cleavage hanging out? Half naked? She thought of all the people in Hope Springs looking at the photos and then covering up their kids’ eyes.
What about Mom, Grandpa, and Grandma?
She’d always hated how girls had to be straddling guitars or shot with bedroom hair for CD covers while guys got to go with simple and fully clothed.

If the deal goes through, I’ll let them know I have lines I don’t want to cross.

Linda sat back in her chair. “I’m also thinking a little less twang. We want to appeal to the largest audience, both country and pop fans.”

Sadie must’ve wrinkled her nose, because Linda gave her a placating smile. “Once we get you established, you’ll have a little more wiggle room on the look and songs. I hate it as much as you do, but singers are a dime a dozen, and despite what the American people say, they care about weight and looks as much as they do the music. Stick with me, and I’ll make you a star.”

Linda obviously had the ambition, which meant she’d work like crazy to get Sadie on the radio. If she was going to work hard enough to stay ten pounds lighter and hold back the twang that tended to come out when she really let loose, she wanted someone who’d be working hard, too. And Sadie wasn’t totally opposed to red hair—she could make it work, she supposed. Quinn would probably go crazy over the bright hue.

Red hair. Less country. Ten pounds off, so no more bread or pastries.

Funny enough, as she was sitting there, it wasn’t a country song that popped into her head. It was Pink, singing about how she’d be a pop star. All she’d have to change was everything she was.

The image of Royce staring down at her, desire in his eyes, suddenly came to mind. Then she heard his voice.
You were perfect the way you were.
The way you are now.

Of course, he had been staring down at her in his too-large shirt, and they’d been about to have sex.

A toxic mix of longing and regret burned through her, and she shook her head, telling herself to snap out of it.
A hundred women would line up to take my place right now. I won’t make the mistake my former bandmates made. I can deal.

Linda and Nolan were going over a few stipulations, things she knew she should pay better attention to, but which went in one ear and out the other.

“So, let’s talk contract,” Nolan said, and Linda leaned her elbows on her desk and steepled her fingers under her chin.

“Let’s.”

Nolan grinned, and Sadie wondered why she had to work so hard to do the same.

…

Sadie paused near the display of chocolate muffins in the airport coffee shop and then passed them by with a sigh. She’d only been on her stupid diet for three days, but the sight of pastries made her slightly bitter at life, and the heavenly scents of French fries and pizza filling the air weren’t helping, either.

I’ll just ask Quinn to pull over somewhere I can get a good salad before we head out of town.
If she tried to order a salad in Hope Springs that wasn’t just a side for steak or fried chicken, people would stare at her as if she were on the verge of lunacy. Sheila at the diner would probably even put a hand to her forehead and ask if she was feeling all right.
I’m gonna have to try to stay away from Grandma’s amazing cooking, too, or I’ll undo the past few days.

Sadie had spent most of Sunday and Monday looking at apartments and filling out applications. Having so much to do had been good, because whenever she’d slow down, sadness would creep in, and she’d spent last night in her hotel room crying herself to sleep. “Weepy mess” was the best way to describe her lately, and she hated it. It was ridiculous, but no matter how much she told herself to stop, her emotions refused to listen. She knew it was just the transition period and the past month catching up to her. It’d happened the first time she’d moved to Nashville, and eventually she’d gotten over it, so she’d get over it again.

After a ten-minute wait at the baggage claim, she gathered her suitcase and texted Quinn that she was heading outside.

A silver Mercedes coupe pulled up in front of Sadie, and she was going to frown at the driver for blocking Quinn’s way, but then she realized it
was
Quinn.

Sadie met her at the back of the car. “Holy crap, girl! Did you boost a car on your way here?”

“Figured it was the fastest way to get us to Hope Springs,” Quinn said with a grin. “You like it? Daddy said I needed a new car to impress clients, and who am I to argue? The company’s even paying for it.” She bumped her hip into Sadie. “So, how’s life now that you’re on your way to being super famous?”

Sadie heaved her suitcase into the trunk. “I can’t wait until I can make odd diva demands. Like no brown M&M’s. Who wants to eat boring-colored candy?”

They got into the car, and Quinn said, “And you should get that, like, super-snooty water and demand exotic flowers for your dressing rooms.”

“But I’ll always keep my fans in mind and do big signings for them, because I’ll never forget they’re what’s really important.”

“Of course.” Quinn glanced over her shoulder and then hit the gas pedal, shooting them into traffic. “I’m so proud of you—I always knew it’d happen.”

“Thanks.”

“Uh-oh.” Quinn glanced at her. “Thanks? Not, ‘OMG, I’m so happy I’m gonna start singing and dancing and there’s gonna be fireworks later’?”

Sadie glanced at the ceiling, swearing under her breath. How could more tears be trying to come out?

“Spill it.”

“All I can think about is Royce. His stupid handsome face and the ranch and the horses and the way he makes me feel.” Sadie leaned forward and placed her forehead on the dashboard. She sniffed and then said, “In case you were wondering, even the dashboard of this thing is comfy.”

“Great, because I hope I have lots of clients who feel the need to fling themselves on it.” Quinn put her hand on Sadie’s back. “I hate to state the obvious here, but I think you should talk to Royce. You’re clearly in love with him.”

“Yeah, but I was in love with him in high school, too, and in the end, it didn’t matter.” The familiar ache dug its claws into her chest, gripping her heart tighter. “We want different things—I even tried to tell him how I feel, that maybe I could stay, and he told me that he was only on board to have fun for a while. That he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship. I think I broke him. Broke us.” She wiped at a tear that ran down her face. “It’s really over.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

Sadie popped up so fast she knocked into Quinn’s outstretched arm. “And it’s so frustrating, because I should be happy! There
should
be fireworks! I think it just hasn’t hit me yet that the recording contract’s real. We went over all the ins and outs, and Nolan called me this morning to say they’d emailed it to him. He wanted to go over it, and then he’ll overnight it to me to sign.” She nodded. “It’ll feel real then. I’ll be more excited, I swear.”

Sadie bit her lip. “Except for, you know, I can’t stop asking myself if I really want to dye my hair red and deal with extensions again and be on a diet for the rest of my life. Or tone down what’s actually unique about my voice and live so far away from all my family and friends. But I’ll be on the road a lot if it goes well, anyway, so…”

“Well, do you?” Quinn glanced at her. “Do you want those things?”

“A thousand people would take my spot right now.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

“You sound just like your dad.”

Quinn gasped and shoved her, and despite Sadie’s gloomy mood, she laughed. Then she looked at her best friend and the damn waterworks started all over again. “I think my dream changed somewhere along the way. I do want to sing, I just don’t know in what capacity anymore. I don’t know if I can give up this opportunity and live with myself, though—I know I can’t give it up for a maybe.”

They still had a half an hour left in their drive, and Sadie didn’t want to think about those things anymore—she knew the rodeo tomorrow night would be hard enough as it was. “Time for a subject change. Tell me something interesting.”

Quinn told off a driver who’d cut in front of her only to slow down, and then went around the car. “Okay, subject change… Oh, I know! Guess what I just found out? The Mountain Ridge Bed and Breakfast might be going up for sale.”

“Yeah, I heard that.”

Quinn whipped her head toward Sadie. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, I thought a deal for someone else to buy it was already in the works.”

“So? Do you know what I do for a living? I destroy other deals so that I can get the properties I want, and I’ve wanted that property since I was a little girl. I’ve already instructed the town committee to let me know when it’s going on the market.”

“Then what? You’re going to update it and run a B and B?”

The corner of Quinn’s mouth lifted, and she got that glint in her eye that meant she was starting to calculate a plan. “Yes. And it’s gonna be the best damn B and B ever.”