Wounded But Not Scarred (New Adult Rockers 2) (6 page)

“No biggie. I’ll catch him at
home.”

We make our way out of the building
and Becky suggests a good Mexican place in town not too far from the office.
Once inside, the place is lively and bright, and a mariachi band is playing
near the front.

“Wow, this is great,” I remark as
we’re shown to a booth in the back.

“I thought you might like it. I
wasn’t sure how much of Nashville you’ve seen since you moved back here.”

“Not much,” I say honestly. “I’ve
been so busy.”

Becky nods, and we pick up the
menus.

“They have really great
margaritas,” she explains.

We start off with margaritas and
chips and salsa.

“How is your boyfriend’s art work
coming along?” I ask.

“You remembered! Oh, it’s coming
along really well. He has another shows next month that he’s gearing up for. He
actually sold some really big pieces last week, so he was happy about that.”

“Good for him! Please let me know
about the show. I’d love to come.”

“Sure! What about you?” She sips
her margarita and smiles. “How are things with Blake?”

I can’t help blushing. “They’re
really good. I guess everyone pretty much knows that we’re an item, huh?’’

She laughs. “I think so. But don’t
worry. No one cares, and from a business standpoint, it’s a money maker.”

I frown. “So, I hear.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. I just don’t want people to
think that Blake and I are only together to sell records and promote
ourselves.”

“Paige, anyone who knows either one
of you knows that isn’t true. You can’t control what the rest of the world
thinks.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “And anyone who knows Savannah,
knows that you're a breath of fresh air.”

I nibble on a chip, wondering if I
can trust Becky with asking about the Devlins. I decide that I’m willing to
take the risk. She’s the only friend that I have, and so far she’s seemed more
than trustworthy.

“Okay, I have to ask you
something,” I say, leaning in towards her. “What do you know about the Devlin
family? Apparently they are causing some problems for Blake’s family because of
how things ended with Savannah, and even my mom was a little worried when I
told her who Savannah’s family was.”

Becky lets out a little sigh and
takes a big sip of her drink.

“They aren’t the kind of people
that you want to piss off,” she admits. “Both of Savannah’s parents come from
big families that have a lot of power. The Prescotts hold a number of political
offices in the city and the state.”

This was news to me, though it
shouldn’t surprise me. I had only been in Nashville for a couple of months, and
I was never one to follow politics in the first place.

“The Prescotts also have a bit of a
reputation for being corrupt.” She laughs. “Of course, what politicians aren’t
corrupt?”

I nod along with her.

“While the Prescotts have political
power, the Devlins have financial power. They control a
ton
of the money
coming in and out of the city. And lots of the women hold positions in all
those hoity-toity ladies clubs, and country clubs and other organizations that
like to ostracize the women that don’t fit in.”

“Shit,” I breathe. That was more
than I had bargained for. “So, basically you’re telling me that Savannah’s
family can control pretty much everything.”

“Pretty much,” she says sadly,
“except maybe the music industry.”

Slight silver lining. But it did
make me feel better that they couldn’t touch Blake’s budding music career.

“I never really gave that any
consideration.”

“Well, how would you have known?”
Becky asked. “And even so, just because Savannah’s family are a bunch of
bullies, doesn’t mean that Blake should have stayed with her.” She shakes her
head. “I never understood that coupling.”

“It’s probably best,” I mutter,
grinding my teeth as I recall Blake’s “it-was-mostly-about-the-sex” comment. I
know I couldn’t hold that against him because I wasn’t in the picture then, but
I can just see Savannah using her provocative ways to hook Blake in.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Becky
says, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve got Blake now, and probably all that
his momma is dealing with are some pissed off ladies over at the country club.”

I smile and realize that she’s
right. Plus, Blake’s mother wasn’t much of a society lady anyway. She still
worked full time, and from what I gathered, his parents didn't buy much into
all the Nashville-family crap.

I take a long drink of my
margarita, and lick at the salt crusted around the edges. “You’re right. Let’s
drink these margaritas, order some tacos and forget about all that.”

Becky grins and holds up her glass
to clink it against mine.

“I think you guys got it,” Liam
says from the booth, giving us the thumbs up sign. I look over at Paige who is
delirious with happiness.

“Really?” she asks.

She’s excited, but I can see how
tired she is; this has been a grueling week for all of us.

“Really,” Liam says. “Come on in
here and we’ll play the track for you.”

“Come on,” I say, taking Paige’s
hand and leading her from the studio. We step inside the small booth with Liam
and Jackson, the guy running the sound board.

“Now, remember it’s going to sound
a little rough,” Jackson says, “We need to lay down some more vocals and do
some mixing.”

Paige and I nod, and I pull her
against me, so that she’s leaning into me. Jackson starts the song and for the
next three minutes and thirty-one seconds, we listen to ourselves crooning
away.

“Wow,” Paige whispers when it ends.

“I think we did it, baby.” I tell
her.

She gives me a swift peck on the
cheek.

“Gold,” Liam agrees, grinning
widely.

It's Sunday night and we've all
been putting in demanding hours in the studio all week. And on top of that,
Paige and I had spent a good ten hours over the weekend recording just our
three songs together. In between our hectic recording schedules, Paige and I
had found time, sometimes not until ten o’clock on certain nights, to get
together and work on our duets.

“I still don’t know how we pulled
that off,” Paige laughs, after we say goodbye and thank Liam and Jackson.

“Me neither.” I shake my head.

 “I want a nice long break from
recording studios,” she moans, climbing tiredly into my truck.

I laugh. “I know, I know. We’re
going to have to go back in next week for a few touch ups, but after that I
want a nice long break!”

We don’t say much as I drive her
back to Kenny’s house.

“Oh crap! I forgot to tell you,”
she cries out when we’re almost to Kenny’s. “I’m going to Bristol next weekend
to see my momma and grandma.”

“That’s nice. I bet they really
miss you. You haven’t seen them since you moved down here, have you?”

“No, I’ve been a lousy daughter.”

“You haven’t been lousy, you’ve
been busy. And by the way, my mom was asking when she was going to see you
again.”

Paige perks up. “Really?”

“Yes, really. If you ever want to
have lunch with her some day, I know she would love that.”

Paige bites her lip. “Are you sure?
I don’t want to interrupt her work day.”

“She does it all the time with her
girlfriends. I’m sure she’d love to do it with you.”

“Alright, if you say so. I really
do like your mother. Maybe before I go to Bristol.”

“Okay. I’ll mention it to her the
next time I see her.”

We’ve arrived at Kenny’s and Paige
leans over to give me a kiss.

“Sweet dreams, baby,” she murmurs.

“Mmmhmm,” I groan, kissing her
back. “Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?”

“Of course!”

“Pick you up at twelve?”

She nods and kisses me one more
time before getting out of the truck. I watch her go into the house, not
pulling away until I know she’s safely inside. I realize that I’ll never stop
worrying about Paige. And not just because of what has happened to her, but
also because I love her so damn much.

I find myself thinking about her
all the time. Way more than I ever thought about Savannah. I find myself
wondering what Paige is doing at random times of the day, or what
she
might be thinking about.

I have it bad.

After a good night’s sleep and
sleeping in to an indecent time of eleven, I hurry up and shower before racing
over to pick up Paige.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly,
pulling the front door open to me. “Let me just grab my purse.”

She hurries back down the hall and
returns a minute later.

“I slept until nearly eleven,” she
says with embarrassment.

I laugh. “Same here.”

She giggles. “We’re both
exhausted!”

“I was thinking Italian,” I say, as
we head out to the car, “does that work?”

“Absolutely!”

I take Paige to a nice, but
laid-back Italian bistro on the outskirts of town. Just as we sit down, a
pretty woman with a long bob comes up to our table.

“Paige! Hi!”

It takes Paige a moment to place
her and then her face breaks into a grin.

“Jami! Hey there,” she gushes.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,”
Jami says, “I saw that your tour went really well and I wanted to congratulate
you.”

“Aww, thanks. It did go really
well. And I truly appreciate all your help.” She looks over at me and smiles
with embarrassment. “Excuse my manners! Jami this is my boyfriend Blake. Blake,
this is Jami, the stylist who helped me with the tour.”

I vaguely remember Paige telling me
that Kenny had set her up with a stylist to comb through her wardrobe.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I say,
rising to shake her hand.

“Oh please, sit down! I was just
finishing up lunch with my mother and we were on our way out. I just happened
to see you and wanted to stop by and say hi!”

“Well, I may be needing your help
again,” Paige admits, “they’re trying to set us up on another tour before the
end of the year.”

“No way,” Jami’s eyes widen. “You
must be doing great.”

“We’re very fortunate. Blake was
actually on the tour too with his band, Rust.”

“Yes!” Jami cries. “I knew you
looked familiar.” She looks behind her and we see an older well-dressed woman
wave from across the room. “That’s my momma,” Jami says in a quiet voice. “I
better get going. She just broke up with the most awful boyfriend and I’ve been
trying to raise her spirits!”

“Aww, I’m sorry to hear that,”
Paige frowns.

“No, it was for the best, trust me.
I just wish she would meet a nice man for once. Maybe someone who has the same
interests!”

“What are her interests?” I ask
curiously.

“Going to the gym,” Jami laughs.

Inspiration suddenly hits.

“I know someone who likes to go to
the gym,” I say, glancing over at Paige. It takes her a second to process what
I’ve said.

“Oh no!” she cries, “I don’t think
that’s a good idea!”

“What?” Jami asks quickly. “Do you
know someone? I’d be forever grateful if I could get my mother out on a date
with a nice man!”

“Paige’s father is on the market
and he’s a real catch,” I offer.

“Blake!” Paige hisses, turning to
Jami. “I really don’t know, Jami. My dad has a lot going on.”

“Is he a gym rat?” she asks quickly,
waving back at her mother.

“Well, yes,” Paige says.

“Alright. I’m going to send you an
email later,” she says, giving Paige a quick kiss on the cheek. “I bet it would
be really sweet if we set our parents up on a date. Nice meeting you,” she
calls to me over her shoulder, as she sweeps her mother out of the restaurant.

“Have you lost your mind?” Paige
demands.

“What?” I ask innocently, “It might
be good for your dad. When was the last time he had a date?”