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It had been two damned weeks since he’d heard from Leigh Anderson, and Jase was starting to think maybe he’d been wrong about her. He was damned disappointed to finally have to admit she must be one of those people who blew smoke.
He’d believed in her, trusted her, and he’d been dead wrong. It definitely wasn’t the first time, but it was the most crushing.
Leigh had gotten his hopes sky high, and now she was letting him freefall back to the ground. Jase was going to call Bobby Gillis this afternoon and see what the hell was going on. Bobby owned that new song, so he would probably know. The question was would he shoot any straighter with him than Leigh Anderson had.
The longer Jase was in this cutthroat business, the less he liked it, and the fewer people he trusted. Leigh Anderson had just been added to that list.
She had two professionally cut songs now, and there was no reason she shouldn’t have at least gotten nibbles for a couple of bigger gigs for him. Those songs were damned good, as good as anything he’d heard on the radio recently. He had a copy of the CD too, and if he didn’t hear from her soon, he’d be shopping them around himself.
The only problem was, as songwriter, Bobby Gillis owned the rights to the new song. He’d have to call him and feel him out this afternoon, before he did anything. But he didn’t trust that man any more than he trusted Leigh now. They could be in cahoots, and both be double-crossing him.
Jase should have gotten a clue from how fast she’d left him in Nashville. After they finished their session on Saturday afternoon, she dropped him off at the hotel, stuffed bills into his hand for cab fare then left like her ass was on fire. Because of what happened between them the night before, the connection he felt with her, he believed she was telling the truth when she said she had an emergency back in Dallas, that she had to leave on an earlier flight, but couldn’t get a seat for him.
No, in all likelihood she’d gotten what she wanted from him, and that was her way of exiting stage left without drama. She didn’t know him, Jase didn’t do drama either. She could’ve given him the brush off to his face and he could take it.
But she hadn’t had the balls to do that.
“Chickenshit bitch,” he growled, as he stuffed his spade under the pile of manure. Hefting it, he carried it out to the wheelbarrow in the aisle to dump it. Four more stalls to go, then he could try calling her again, he thought, going back inside for another load. He’d have to do that at home though, because his daddy had to go to work.
His life had fallen into the same daily routine again, a rut he feared he’d never break out of until he was a very old man. Jase didn’t want to resent his circumstances, but dammit he was starting to do just that. He was thirty-years-old, shoveling shit and singing for tips, still living at his parent’s house, because even though he worked his ass off every day, he didn’t have two nickels to rub together.
Maybe it was time he gave up on music, got on the nine-to-five train and rode that sonofabitch until it reached the station at the pearly gates.
Jase eyes burned as he shoved the shovel into another pile of manure in the far corner of the stall. “Fucking hay,” he cursed, sniffling as he lifted the weight to carry it to the wheelbarrow. Jase dumped it into the wheelbarrow, then rested there, his fingers digging into the wooden handle as he fought the pressure building in his head, behind his eyes and in his chest. It converged in his throat, and with a roar he reared back and the spade flew out of his hand to clatter down the aisle.
The horses shuffled, snorted and whinnied in protest in their stalls. The asshole stud whose stall he was cleaning reared, pulling hard on the lead rope then kicked the stall door he was tied to hard. He reared again and Jase ran over to him and grabbed the rope and pull his front feet back down. “Easy boy, I’m sorry,” he soothed, patting the stud’s thick, corded neck until his wild eyes softened and he settled down with a fiery snort.
Breathing just as hard, Jase rested his forehead against the horse’s neck. This horse was worth a million dollars and if something happened to him, Jase wouldn’t even have this job. Then where would he be? Sitting behind a desk counting beans, what he’d been trained for. What he should be doing instead of chasing rainbows he’d never catch.
Tomorrow he was off and he was going to start searching the want ads. Things weren’t going to change unless he changed them.
His phone rattled against his hipbone in his pocket, and Jase pulled it out. He didn’t look to see who it was, because he knew whoever it was wasn’t the person he wanted it to be. “Yeah?” he said gruffly, walking toward the door of the barn where the spade he’d need to finish the cleaning stalls rested half in and half out of the doorway.
“Jase? This is Leigh Anderson,” she said and instead of making his dick hard, her sing-song voice irritated the shit out of him.
“What the fuck do you want?” he grated, leaning down to grab the handle of the shovel. He stood back up and huffed a breath. “Whatever it is, get to it, because I’m shoveling horseshit right now and don’t have time for your bullshit.”
“I’m sorry for not calling you back until now, Jase,” she said, and he refused to let the tremble in her voice affect him. No excuse could possibly explain it, and he didn’t want to hear her attempt.
Stomping back toward the wheelbarrow, he growled, “Do you have a point, Ms. Anderson? If not, I’m hanging up the phone.”
“No, don’t hang up!” she shouted, then cleared her throat. “I have a couple of gigs lined up for you. I didn’t want to call you back until they were confirmed.”
“That’s nice, but I don’t have money to travel,” he said, walking into the stall. He put the phone to his shoulder and held it there with his jaw. With a grunt he lifted another shovel of manure, then turned and walked to the wheelbarrow.
“I can take care of that, they’re local so it won’t be expensive, but I, ah, also need you to sign a contract before I book them.”
Jase stopped cold mid-dump and the shit slid off of the spade, but landed on the outside of the wheelbarrow. “With Hearts Afire?” he grated.
“No, with my new company, Cupid Records,” she said, and he heard a note of uncertainty in her lowered voice. “I can’t talk about it right now, but I’ll call you back so we can meet tonight. I just got back in town, I’ve been in Nashville for the last week.”
That explained week two, but not week one. “What happened with your father? With Hearts Afire?” he asked.
“I went into his office to pitch your songs and he fired me before I could. Wade Lawson has recorded a new song with Twang, and Leo heard it. He was livid that we missed out on it because I failed to get him signed to a contract with us.”
“You don’t sound too upset,” Jase said, leaning on the handle of the shovel.
“Because I’m not,” she replied, with a laugh. “This needed to happen, but I didn’t have the huevos to do it myself. Leo is not the kind of man I want to be associated with anymore. I can be better than him on my own, but I need your help.”
“Well, ignoring a man for two weeks is not the way to get a man’s help. There is no fucking excuse for you not calling to at least tell me what you were doing,” he grated.
“No, there isn’t,” she agreed, with a heavy sigh. “I’ve been working for you, but didn’t want to disappoint you if things didn’t work out.”
“I couldn’t be any more disappointed than I already am,” Jase said with a sigh of his own. “I thought you let me down.”
“No, what I did was get one of your songs played on two big market satellite stations, and on a couple of mid-market ones in Nashville. That’s bigtime, cowboy. I’m working on stations here next week, and then you’re singing it live at the rodeo in Houston in a few weeks.”
“Really?” he asked, and fought to stomp the bud of hope that sprouted in his chest again. “Which song?”
“Bobby’s song—he titled it finally. It took me three days to get him to do that,” she said with a laugh. “His copyright is finalized, and so is our contract.”
“What did he call it?”
“Bobby’s Song,” she repeated with a snort, and he imagined her shaking her head, making those beautiful curls dance around her heart-shaped face.
Jase shoved the mental picture from his mind, so he could focus. “That’s really lame. Angel or Golden Walls would’ve been better,” Jase said.
“Bobby is a simple man,” she replied. “As frustrating as he is, he’s very talented and I love him. I also trust him to do what’s best for the song.”
I love him. The words rang inside of Jase’s skull and he tasted their bitterness on his tongue. That answered the question he’d asked her in Nashville—truthfully. Now that Jase knew, he wouldn’t be going there again with Leigh Anderson. That would be setting himself up for a fall, and all of them up for an eventual blowup they didn’t need. They were partners of a sort now, and didn’t need drama.
“Well, I guess that’s a good title then. It is his song,” Jase said, his voice flat.
“Bobby is working on your song right now. He wasn’t totally happy with the final product, so he’s tweaking it more. The other one is perfect…you sang it perfectly. The more I hear it, the more I love it.”
Jase was a little nervous to give Bobby creative control of his mother’s song. But he let Jase make the call on his song, so he’d just have to trust him. If he didn’t like it when he got it back, he could always demand to change things. “Does he need any input from me to fix my song?”
“No, he’s got it. He just wanted to tone down the backup singers, and more of the bass to focus on the lyrics and your voice more. It’ll be great when he’s done, and will be a good follow up to this one.”
Satisfied with her answers, Jase was cautiously optimistic. “I can’t meet with you tonight, I’m staying with my mother. Tomorrow night, I work at the restaurant, so it’ll have to be Thursday.”
“Thursday works,” she said quickly, with a little squeal of excitement. “Can you come to my new office?”
“Where is it?” he asked, with a sigh.
She spouted off directions, but he stopped her. “Can you text it to me? I don’t have a pen, and I’m up to my elbows in manure,” he said, with a laugh.
Jase hoped he was doing the right thing here, not wasting time, but since that’s all he had these days, what did he have to lose? A few days searching for an accounting job he didn’t really want. He would give this one last try, and if things bottomed out again, he would be done with music. Then, he’d be satisfied that he’d given it his all, and it just wasn’t meant to be. He would take that desk job, wear a suit and tie, and make himself like it.
“I’ll do that…but I don’t want to hang up,” she said, and the soft, seductive tone in her voice reminded him of her whispered pleas for him to fuck her harder, faster. His blood heated and his dick hardened.
“I’ve got to go,” he said quickly, and ended the call. Jase didn’t have to think about that aspect of their association. That was done now.
Having sex? That’s what I have, Jase. No strings flings. Having sex with you doesn’t mean we’re starting something. I don’t let myself get attached to men.
Jase was going to burn those very honest words into his brain, so when he got weak, when she used that voice on him again, he could pull them out and remind himself what kind of woman she was. He’d just remind himself he’d been one of those no-strings flings to her, and that just wasn’t the way he operated. Neither was letting himself be used to scratch an itch she had for another man who just happened to have a girlfriend at the moment.
“I’m sorry for calling you a bitch, but the other word I want to use would be much, much worse,” he said, taking the handle of his shovel, so he could get back to work.
*
Thursday morning, Leigh couldn’t contain her excitement as she yanked the stack of paper off of her printer and sat down behind her scarred wooden desk. What she had in her hands was her future, Jase’s contract with Cupid Records, which he would sign later that morning. This man was her ticket to launch her new business, to show Leo she wasn’t the biggest disappointment of his life. To prove to herself that he was wrong in so many ways.
Emotion built in her chest and tried to eclipse her happiness, but Leigh shoved it down into the box where she kept the other nastiness her father had dealt to her during their last meeting—hell, her entire life. She reminded herself that his opinion didn’t matter anymore, because like her mother said when Leigh told her about the meeting, she highly doubted she would ever talk to him again.
Some things couldn’t be forgiven, and Leo had gone for broke that day.
Determination filled her as she quickly scanned the first page of the contract, then slowly read each word in context through the rest of the contract. Clem said it was standard, but since he was Leo’s attorney too, she wasn’t taking any chances. She didn’t want to lock herself or Jase into something they’d have to have a bulldozer to get out of if the need arose. Leo liked to bury things beneath a mound of bullshit and convince everyone the weed that sprouted was really a rose. Leigh was not going to do business like that.
She became so engrossed in reading, she didn’t hear the knock at her office door, until it turned into pounding, and her phone rang in tandem. Shooting up from her chair, Leigh ran for the door in the outer office. Her hand shook and her heart pounded as loud as that fist had, as she flipped the lock then twisted the knob. Pasting on a smile to hide her nervousness, she opened the door.
A woodsy scent wafted to her nose and her breath locked in her chest, as the snazzily dressed cowboy in the black, floral-embroidered western dress shirt and black felt hat walked past her into her office. Her eyes fell to his round ass, adoringly cupped by the just-tight-enough Wrangler jeans he wore, and all the moisture in her body flooded south. When he turned and caught her staring, he grinned, and Leigh’s mouth flapped, but she couldn’t squeeze a word out her mouth.
“Cat got your tongue, beautiful?” Jase drawled, and the sexy rumble tickled her insides. His eyes lit fires down her body to her toes, before he dragged them back to hers. “Or am I overdressed?” he asked, tucking his thumbs into his pockets country boy style, highlighting the bulge behind his zipper. A bulge she knew very well was not exaggerated by those jeans. A thrill crept through her, remembering. “It’s not every day a man signs his life away. I didn’t know who all would be here.”
“No—you’re perfect,” she mouthed, with barely a sound enforcing her words. Standing before her Leigh saw a man on the verge of superstardom, and she felt honored to be allowed to hang onto the tail of his comet. She cleared the knot from her throat and gathered her senses. “But you should come with a warning label, honey. If you wear that to a performance, some woman is going to have a coronary.” Leigh felt like she was about to be that woman her heart was beating so hard in her chest.
Looking at him now, Leigh also felt like the sun hadn’t been out in two weeks. Like she’d been living in a gray, colorless world until he walked through her office door. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed being around him, being with him, having him by her side to talk things out.
That needy feeling was totally foreign to her, and it scared her badly.
Leaning back, Jase glanced into her office door, then let his eyes roam around the small outer room. “Needs a good cleaning, but it works,” he said with a smile that punched her in the gut. “I’m always looking for extra income, so I’ll do that for a fee.”
“In about six months you won’t be needing extra income, Jase,” Leigh replied. If it took that long. Leigh was going to do everything in her power to shorten that time. “My phone has been ringing off the hook about you. New stations are signing up to play Bobby’s Song daily. I’ve had requests for interviews too.”
“You should do them. Might help you find more artists,” Jase said, his eyes hard, although he was still smiling.
“Interviews for you, Jase,” she corrected with a smile. “Those folks couldn’t give a rat’s ass about me. They want you.”
“I wonder why?” he asked cryptically. “Any dumb country boy can sing a song as long as he looks good, isn’t that right, baby? It takes brains and money behind him to make him successful though. And a rube to write the song. You’re the brains and money, right? I wonder who the rube is?” He slapped the side of his jaw. “Oh, yeah, I guess that would be me, right?” His harsh, dry laugh sliced through her like razorwire.
Leigh’s eyebrows puckered as she tried to decipher his snarky remarks, and his strange mood, and couldn’t. Her nervousness returned tenfold. Something was up with Jase, he just wasn’t himself. She hoped like hell he wasn’t here to tell her he’d changed his mind. She wasn’t going to give him that chance. “You want some coffee? I just made my second pot,” Leigh offered, as she turned toward her office, where the contract lay on her desk, but Jase grabbed her arm, and he jerked her back around.
His hand clamped on her throat and his eyes were black fire when they met hers. “How much did Lawson pay you?” he growled, scaring her a little.
Leigh grabbed his wrist, and swallowed hard. “What are you talking about?” she croaked, trying, but failing, to remove his fingers from her throat.
“How. Much. Did. He. Pay. You. To. Fuck. Me? Or was that Leo? I want to know exactly how much a good fucking is worth these days.”
Leigh’s eyes filled, and her fingers clawed at his wrist. “You’re choking me,” she whimpered, and felt a hot tear track down her cold cheek.
Jase’s eyebrows raised. He looked shocked and his fingers loosened and his hand fell away. “I’m sorry,” he grated, his hand shaking as he took his hat off to shove it through his hair. He slammed the hat back on his head and frowned. “I’m leaving, before I end up in jail. My attorney will be in touch, but I’m sure that won’t get me anywhere. You’re too slick a thief. You sure had me fooled.”
“Jase, please tell me what this is about,” Leigh pleaded, following him to the door.
He grabbed the knob, his chin dropped to his chest and he just breathed for a second. “I heard Thief In The Night on the radio this morning, and it wasn’t me singing it. You double-crossed me, and Bobby isn’t editing the song—you fucking sold me out,” he said, then violently twisted the door knob. “I hope you’re happy, Leigh.”
Anger replaced her fear, and Leigh rolled around him to put her back on the door so he couldn’t open it. Forcing calm into her tone, she said, “I did not sell you out, Sutter, and I’m very insulted you think I did. That’s something Leo would pull and that’s the reason I left Hearts Afire.”
“You left because he fired you. Probably for doing shit like you did to me,” Jase ground out.
“Bobby is working on editing your song, but if someone else has the rights to it, we can’t release it. If they don’t have the rights, we can stop them. Where are your copyright papers?” she asked.
His eyes jerked to her eyes. “What copyright papers? I sent a copy to myself in the mail, and it’s unopened. Poor man’s copyright is all I could afford.”
“That’s a start, but not enough. I don’t think that’s legal these days.”
“And you would know that, wouldn’t you? That’s something you’d need to know to sell my song out from under me, even after I told you it was special to me.” The hurt in his eyes, misery in his voice ripped her heart from her chest.
Leigh put her hand on his forearm. “I didn’t and wouldn’t do that to you, Jase. I swear. It wasn’t me.”
“You can swear on your father’s grave then, because I’m going to kill him,” Jase replied darkly, and the look in his eyes left no doubt he could do it right then.
“I don’t think it was Leo this time either. I didn’t even have the opportunity to pitch it to him the day he fired me. If Lawson released it, he’s with Glen Parsons and Twang. I would bet it was them.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, and a muscle worked at his jawline. He stared at her a moment then released the doorknob to stand upright. “That motherfucker,” Jase hissed, through pinched lips.
“You signed something with him, right?” Leigh asked, pressing her point.
“I signed a contract for Glen to represent me, yeah. I didn’t sign anything that said he could sell my song. I told him just like I told you that song is not for sale for anyone else to sing it.”
“Did he give you any money?” Leigh asked.
“Five hundred bucks,” Jase replied.
“Then he bought your song. I’d just about bet that was what the check was for. Agents don’t pay their clients, it’s the other way around, but if he was including the rights to that song in the contract, then it wouldn’t be valid without some kind of compensation. I’ve heard he’s done that to songwriters before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?!?” Jase demanded.
“I told you Glen Parsons was bad news, but you’d already signed with him. That’s why I insisted you break that contract if we were going to work together.”
“Man, I really am a dumbass,” Jase said with a moan.
“No, you’re not. You trusted someone who was looking to take advantage of you.”
“Everyone in this damned business is like that. I’ve never met so many dishonest people in my damned life,” he said with a heavy sigh. “I think the best thing I can do is dust off my degree and find a desk job somewhere. This is too much.”
“It’s not too much for someone who really wants it,” Leigh challenged.
Jase grabbed the doorknob again. “I want it, but I’m not willing to swim in a pool of sharks. I just want to fucking sing, and I guess I’ll be doing that in the shower from now on. It’s safer.”
“You can’t just belly-up, Jase. He’ll make millions off of that song, and you’ll have a whopping five hundred bucks to show for it.”
“That’s five hundred more than I had the day before I walked into that bastard’s office, and I’m just done with this whole thing.” He pulled the door open. “If Bobby’s song makes anything, y’all keep it.”
Leigh’s heart sank to her toes. “I don’t want you to give up, but if we make a dime, at least a third of it is yours. Will you do me a favor to humor me?”
“What?” he asked, as he stepped outside and turned back to her.
“Fax me a copy of that contract you signed with Glen,” Leigh said. “I’ll text you the number.” Jase might not want to fight, but Leigh was going to do it for him.
Glen Parsons and Wade Lawson had not only stolen that song from him, they’d stolen a good man’s future, his hopes and dreams. The way he looked right now, they’d stolen his soul too. Leigh might not make her mark in the business as a producer now, but before this was done, hers would be a name they wouldn’t forget. Hers or Jase’s. Even if it took every penny she had left, and a hefty mortgage on her house, those bastards would pay for the dirty dealings.
“Fine, I’ll do that,” he replied. Stepping off the curb he got into his truck without a backward glance. The same dusty old black pickup with the white tailgate he’d driven to her house in his underwear to break up with her.
It really hurt this time though, because the man breaking up with her had somehow managed to worm his way inside of her heart. It ached for him, and the lost possibilities for them both.