Hearts on Fire Read online

  As she slipped her phone back into her purse, she looked at Trista, who stood near the door that had been closed just seconds ago. Irritation bubbled up inside of her. Much like a cat, Trista had the uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere without making a sound. It was damn unsettling.

  “I didn’t hear you knock,” she said, trying to keep the bitchiness out of her voice.

  “I did. Twice.” Trista’s voice held a hint of defensiveness.

  Jessie was pretty sure she hadn’t, but she was too tired to argue. She sighed as she took in Trista’s long blonde corkscrew ringlets, which were reminiscent of the hairstyle Taylor Swift favored early in her career. The style had worked on tall, willowy Taylor, but on Trista, who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, the mass of hair overwhelmed her petite frame and made her appear even shorter.

  “I guess I didn’t hear you.” She glanced at her watch. “I have a few minutes. What did you want to talk about?”

  “I’d like to extend my set by fifteen minutes. I thought I should ask you before talking to Wally.”

  Jessie tilted her head and frowned. “With what songs? You already have an hour and you barely have enough to fill that time slot.”

  “I have some new material I’d like to try out,” Trista said, with a hopeful smile.

  Jessie hesitated before answering. Despite her recent television success, Trista was still a green seventeen-year old kid with one hit song and an album that hadn’t even dropped yet. The only reason she and Wally agreed to let Trista open the show was because Trista was recently signed to the same label as Jessie, and the top brass wanted to get their new young protégé out on the road quickly in order to capitalize on her current popularity with the American public—specifically the tweens—an audience that at the ripe old age of twenty-five, Jessie was outgrowing. And if there was one thing she and Wally had learned over the years, it was to never piss off the head honchos at the label.

  “I’d like to accommodate you,” Jessie said, choosing her words carefully.

  She didn’t want to hurt Trista, but there was something about the girl that didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and as much as Trista claimed to idolize her, Jessie sometimes felt the girl’s fawning was a tad too dramatic.

  “But unfortunately, if I give you more time I’d have to shave some time off of my set, and if I do that, I’d have to take out at least two songs. I don’t think my fans would appreciate that.” She offered Trista a regretful smile. “I hope you understand. It’s not personal, and if you open for me on my next tour, I’d be happy to discuss a longer set. By that time your album will have dropped, and you’ll have a wider selection of songs to choose from. Songs the public will be familiar with because they’ve already downloaded them.”

  An emotion Jessie couldn’t make heads or tails of flickered in Trista’s eyes before she nodded. “I understand,” Trista said as she brushed back her mass of hair. “After all, the fans paid to see you, not me.”

  Jessie waved her hand and smiled. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be selling out concerts on your own real soon. You have a great voice,” she said, with a sincerity that surprised her.

  Although their paths to Nashville were as different as night and day, it didn’t mean that Trista couldn’t sing, and it didn’t mean that Jessie had to hold a grudge against her just because she’d basically had no choice in choosing her opening act. It wasn’t Trista’s fault the suits were drooling over her and her innocent, angelic persona.

  “Trista?” The voice belonged to Trista’s manager, who appeared in the doorway wearing a look of impatience. “We’re leaving.” Barry Downs turned his attention to Jessie and gave her a smile as fake as his tan. “Sorry about Kenny,” he said, then snapped his fingers and glowered at Trista. “Let’s go. The car is waiting.”

  Irritation flared in Trista’s eyes. “All right, already. I’m coming,” she said to Barry’s retreating back, then she turned and smiled at Jessie. “Thanks for the compliment. It means a lot coming from you. Well, I’d better go before Barry has a meltdown,” she said, then paused mid-turn and looked back at Jessie once more. “I can’t wait to get to Las Vegas. I’ve never been there before.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “I have a feeling it’s going to be my favorite stop on the tour.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  Trista shrugged, then smiled. “Just a hunch.”

  Chapter Two

  As Wally tipped the bellman, Jessie set her purse down on the glass topped coffee table in her city-view suite and moved to the big picture window that overlooked the Las Vegas strip. Under the cover of night, the neon view would be spectacular, but in the middle of a run-of-the-mill Monday afternoon, it looked like what it was; a wide boulevard lined with large gaudy hotels and filled with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

  “What time is rehearsal?” she asked, turning from the view after the bellman thanked Wally and left them alone.

  “The events coordinator called me an hour ago and said that the arena is available for our exclusive use starting tomorrow morning. They have an event tonight, and then nothing until our show on Friday.” He glanced at his watch. “That gives you the rest of the day and all of tonight to take it easy.”

  “Thank you.” Jessie smiled, grateful for Wally’s solid, caring presence.

  Although she’d always found it hard to express her feelings to him, she’d grown to appreciate all the small things he did to make her life on the road easier.

  “When is Drew due to arrive?” she asked, averting her eyes so he wouldn’t see how anxious she was about seeing the guy she was trying in vain to forget.

  “His plane should be landing right about now. I sent a car for him, and he’s booked into a room on the floor beneath this one.” Wally combed his fingers through his thick white hair. “It’s not a suite, but it’s better than sharing a room with one of the roadies. Hell, if he had demanded a suite, I would have given him one. We need him that much.”

  “He didn’t have any conditions at all?”

  “Nope. Not a single one.”

  Jessie managed a wan smile. “Great. Then I’ll see him at rehearsal tomorrow.”

  After Wally left the suite, she dug into her purse and fished out one of the three apples she’d lifted from continental breakfast room at the hotel they’d checked out of this morning. As usual, Wally had rolled his eyes when he caught her slipping them into her oversized purse. She shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. If he’d ever had to dig through foul smelling garbage to find something to eat, or hovered around an open air café to snatch unfinished scraps of food after the patrons left their table, he might understand why her past habits were hard to break. But at least she’d stopped carrying plastic sandwich bags in her luggage to save left over room service food.

  As Jessie bit into the fruit, she wandered into the bedroom, and stared at the king-sized bed with its pristine chocolate colored coverlet tucked precisely between the mattress and the brocade covered box spring. She turned and took in the rest of the room. It was lovely, with natural woods and an earth tone décor. But as nice as it was, it was devoid of personality. Not that she cared one way or the other. A hotel room was just a place to hang her hat when she was on the road. While the accommodations were way nicer, life on tour was much like moving from one homeless shelter to another, or from one foster family to another. Maybe that’s why touring came so easy to her—she’d had a number of years to prepare for it.

  Her house in Nashville was the closest she’d come to putting down roots. It wasn’t the warm, welcoming home filled with family that she’d always dreamed of having, but still, at the tail end of a long tour, she couldn’t wait to get back there and do some writing. Unfortunately, ever since she discovered that Drew and Hannah were back together, staying on the road seemed like a good thing. Or at least it had until Kenny had broken his arm, and Wally had called on Drew to come to their rescue. She thought she’d never have to face Drew again, bu
t she’d been wrong. And now that it was happening, she didn’t have the slightest clue as to how she was going to handle it.

  Drew set his two guitar cases down on the carpeted floor and tried not to be impressed. It wasn’t a suite, but it was probably the largest and most luxurious hotel room he’d ever stayed in. “Are you sure I’m in the right room?” he asked, and looked at Wally, who’d met him at the hotel registration desk and escorted him to the room.

  “Yep.” Wally nodded, as he set Drew’s army green duffle bag down next to the guitars. “Feel free to order room service any time you like. We’re picking up the tab for everything.”

  “I promise not to go hog wild,” Drew said, as he moved to the window and stared out at the Las Vegas strip. He shook his head as he saw a taxi cab cut in front of another driver. He’d noticed on the drive from the airport that the cab drivers ruled the road and were as daring as any race car driver. “When’s rehearsal?” he asked, turning from the window.

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “Same set list?” Drew asked, as he fiddled with the leather bracelet around his wrist. He’d see Jessie tomorrow. Just thinking about it had him all wired up.

  “Pretty much.” Wally motioned to a large white envelope sitting atop the nightstand next to the king-sized bed. “The set list is in there. We’re a well-oiled machine at this point in the tour, and since you’re a better guitar player than Kenny, and you’ve played with the band in the past, I don’t think the change is going to affect the show.”

  “Wait.” Drew raised a hand. “You think I’m better than Kenny Lassiter?”

  “Son, you’re one of the best young guns in Nashville.” Wally cocked his head and looked at him like he was crazy. “I thought you knew that.”

  No. He didn’t know that. One of the most revered guitarists in the business had taught him how to play, and because of that, he was good. But one of the best? He wasn’t that over-confident. Also, his attempt at a solo career had stalled out months ago, and it’d been hell trying to get it started again. That fact didn’t lend itself to illusions of greatness.

  “You mean as a tour guitarist, right?”

  “I mean as a guitarist and vocalist,” Wally said, matter-of-factly. “Why Garrett Shaw pretty much said as much the last time I talked to him. In fact, he mentioned that he was going to talk to someone at his label. Garrett tells me they’ve got their eye out for fresh new talent, and he seems to think you’re the real deal.”

  Drew’s jaw dropped. The biggest news in Nashville last week was that Garrett Shaw was working on a new album with original material. Garrett, a damn fine singer, and an even better guitarist, was a regular at the MC Saloon, and he was one of the major investors in Full Moon Records, a new label that had recently signed several promising new artists.

  Drew had played alongside him several times at the MC and at the iconic Bluebird Cafe. Although Garrett was a legend in Tennessee, the coolest thing about him was he never acted like he was a legend. He was one of those salt-of-the-earth types who never had a bad word to say about anyone. Drew had never asked him for help —he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of Garrett’s friendship, just as he’d never taken advantage of his own family heritage— and now to find out that Garrett thought so highly of him that he was going to recommend him to the head of his label? Fucking unbelievable.

  “Cat got your tongue, son?” Wally asked, as he let out a hearty laugh. “You know, I’m gonna mention to Jessie that you two should do a duet. Y’all sounded real good the night you sang together at the MC.”

  “That wasn’t planned,” he said quickly.

  “I know. I reckon that’s why it took me by surprise. Your voices blend well, and since Kenny’s laid up, you can sub for him on the duet that he and Jessie perform near the end of the show. Only thing is, I have a different song in mind, it’s on the retro side, but after seeing the chemistry between y’all at the MC, I’m thinking it’ll go over big.” Wally glanced at the envelope on the nightstand. “You’ll find it in there with the set list and charts.”

  Drew shook his head. “I don’t think Jessie’s gonna go for that.”

  Wally’s bushy brows, as snowy white as his thick shock of hair, drew together. “Okay. That’s it. I’m tired of pussyfootin’ around the subject.” Wally scowled at him. “What in tarnation’s going on between you two?”

  Drew shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans and shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “That’s exactly what she said!” Wally pointed at him, exasperation evident in his beleaguered expression. “And I don’t believe either one of you. For the first time since I’ve known that little girl, she finally seemed to find a true friend in you. But now it seems you’re not even on speaking terms. What gives?”

  “With all due respect, I think that’s between me and Jessie.”

  “Well, whatever it is. You both need to suck it up and act like the professionals you are. We’ve all got a lot ridin’ on this tour, especially Jessie. She’s under a lot of pressure from her label. So please don’t let her down.”

  “I won’t,” Drew promised, but it was a lie. He’d already let her down by sleeping with Hannah and then letting Jessie believe he’d gotten back together with her. And now, they were both paying the price.

  At eleven the next morning, Jessie groaned as she surveyed the massive amount of clothing strewn all over the bed. It was a rehearsal, just a stupid rehearsal, and here she was worried about what to wear. This indecision wasn’t like her. The only time she worried about her wardrobe was on show nights. But not today. No, like some adolescent teenager, she was more concerned about wearing something that would knock Drew’s socks off, than she was about comfort.

  A cursory glance at the clock on the nightstand told her she only had twenty-five minutes to get her ass down to the arena. She had to pick something to wear or she’d be late.

  “Decide, damn it,” she muttered, as she stared at the mound of clothing.

  Oh hell.

  She’d rather be comfortable when she saw Drew for the first time in four months than stuffed into some outfit so tight she couldn’t breathe. With quick movements, she stripped off her robe and reached for her favorite pair of jeans and a turquoise top.

  Twenty minutes later, she accompanied Wally and her bodyguard, John, through the back entrance to the stage. The Grand Garden Arena was one of her favorite venues, and was the reason why she’d chosen it when CMT approached her about taping one of the concerts on her Hearts on Fire tour.

  “Don’t forget, tonight you have a meet-and-greet with the fans who won the radio contest,” Wally said as he matched her step for step.

  They rounded the corner and headed towards the stairs that led up to the stage. The stage Drew was probably on right now. Her stomach churned as they halted at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I can’t wait to meet them in person.” Jessie forgot about Drew for a moment and smiled, genuinely excited to meet her fans. “I loved all those videos they made for the contest. Can we give them a little something extra?”

  “Like a T-shirt? Or a free download of your album?”

  “They already have my album.” She bit her lower lip and tried to think of something special. Something that didn’t scream self-promotion. “How about a gift card for the hotel’s spa? They can use it to get a massage or mani/pedi.”

  “Great idea. I’ll get on it right away.” He grabbed her arm as she put her foot on the first step. “By the way, you’ll be doing the duet like usual.”

  “Has Kenny made some sort of miraculous recovery?” she asked in surprise as she pivoted toward him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to wheel him out on stage to sing with me?”

  “I’m not talking about Kenny, I’m talking about Drew. You have plenty of time to rehearse, and I found the perfect song. Remember that old song “You and I” by Eddie Rabbit and Crystal Gayle?”

  Of course she did. The song was a classic, and one of her favorite oldies. But sing a love so
ng with Drew? No. That wouldn’t be happening. No way. No how. Not ever again.

  She shook her head and rested her hand on the metal banister. “I’ve never sung that song in front of an audience before, and I doubt Drew has either.”

  “I gave him the sheet music when he checked in. He’s a quick study.”

  “I don’t think so, Wally. We’ll be fine without the duet. I don’t want to give the fans some half-assed version of something because we don’t have time to rehearse.”

  “There’s more than enough time,” Wally persisted. “I think you should do it. It’s a great song and it’ll showcase your vulnerable side. And as good of a vocalist as Kenny is, Drew’s voice is much better suited to that song. Think about it. It could be a showstopper.”

  Without even seeing her, Drew sensed that Jessie had taken the stage. One second he was talking to Jimmy, the band’s bassist, and the next, he was aware of her in every pore of his body. Then he heard her as she greeted Tara and Renee, her back-up singers. Her silky voice, laced with just a hint of Mississippi twang, heightened his pulse. He turned, and for the first time in four long months, he laid eyes on Jessie Grant. In the flesh.

  God almighty, she was something. Taller than average, her luscious curves were showcased to perfection in the faded jeans and simple blue top she wore. Her long hair, the color of rich, decadent chocolate, fell down her back in tousled waves of dark silk that tempted him to touch it. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. A spike of heat hit him in low in his gut as he let his gaze wander over her heart-shaped face. She hadn’t seen or acknowledged him yet, but instinct told him she was just as aware of him as he was of her.

  One of the roadies approached her to help her with her in-ear monitors. His throat tightened as he remembered doing that for her on a few occasions; of standing behind her and helping her with the wires. One time, her sexier-than hell-dress had been unzipped, revealing her smooth, supple back. He remembered the softness of her skin, and her intoxicating scent as he fumbled with the wires. Standing that close to her had been a cross between heaven and hell. Heaven, because everything about her turned him on, and hell, because, at the time, he’d convinced himself that friendship was all he could offer her.