Girl With Guitar (17 page)

“I
need you to meet me at 5:15 on Monday morning, Kylie. I know it’s early but my schedule is packed full and I need you to sign these releases like yesterday. I’ll buy you breakfast,” Trace’s manager promised.

Yeah it was early. And it was her damned birthday. Not that anyone really cared. Though Lulu and her cousin Carmen were coming to see her. She tried to tell herself it was because they wanted to and not just because she’d bought them plane tickets and insisted that they do so.

“Pauly, you have the note,” she told him with a sigh. “I spelled it out and signed.”

“I know. And I swear that’s good enough for me, but the label wants that to be the next song Trace releases and they won’t let him record it until they have the official papers on file.”

Oh. Ouch. She hadn’t realized he would record it so soon.

“Um, who’s he planning to record it with?” she asked, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t really know for sure. Lots of names have been mentioned,” he told her, sounding more than a little uncomfortable.

“Okay, Pauly. 5:15 in the freaking morning on my friggin’ birthday. Meet you at Eggcetera and you
will
buy me breakfast,” she told him before hanging up. Something that had been lying dormant since the tour had ended stirred in her. The memory of her telling Trace about her dad’s birthday tradition made its way to the surface of her thoughts.

Pauly had made a point of telling her once that he didn’t get involved in Trace’s personal life, but maybe this time he’d made an exception. Maybe Trace had set this up so that they could have breakfast together on her birthday.
Shitty life choice, Kylie. That’s what he considers you.

Surely Pauly didn’t actually want her to sign some stupid papers before sun up. At the very least, Trace might want to talk things out so they could have some type of friendship. The truth was, she hoped so. Because she missed him. Missed him so much she felt hollow and empty without him.

S
he
jolted awake at 5:15 to the sound of her phone ringing. Pauly was on her caller ID. But she was still holding out hope that maybe it was Trace. Either way she was already late.
Shit.

She jumped off the couch, splashed her face with cold water, and took a swig of mouth wash. After pulling her hair into a ponytail, she threw on some clean-ish jeans and her Charlie Daniels Band t-shirt. She full out sprinted to Eggcetera. Where Pauly was waiting and tapping his watch. Her heart sank into her stomach. It was just him.

“Hey, it’s my birthday, Pauly. Give a girl a break.” She glanced around, hoping to see Trace somewhere nearby but she didn’t. Because he wasn’t there.
Of course he isn’t.

“Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, kid,” he said with a smirk. Wow, so this was her big birthday morning. A grumbly manager, who wasn’t even hers, buying her breakfast in a greasy diner. Quite a change from her dad making pancakes and singing to her.
Welcome to being a grown up.

“Okay,” Pauly began, laying out several papers in front of her. “This first one says that you relinquish all rights to Trace of the song you co-wrote entitled
The Other Side of Me
, the second one says that you understand that you will not receive any formal acknowledgment or royalties from the song, and the third one says that you will not ever try to release the song as your own even under a different title. Those are for the label. This fourth one is for me and it’s a standard non-disclosure agreement regarding your relationship with Trace and any contact you have had with him up to this point. It states that you will not ever discuss the nature of your interaction with him during the tour or otherwise. You with me, Kylie?”

Good morning, Pauly. How are you? Me? I’m fabulous, thanks for asking.

“Yeah, just, um, I need a pen.” J
ust sign the dotted line and erase yourself from his life forever
. Got it.

“Kylie,” Pauly huffed as he handed her a pen. “You need to sit here and read these carefully before you sign.”

“I trust you, Pauly,” she told him as she began to sign the first line with the X by it. “And I trust Trace, too,” she added quietly. Trusted that he wanted her out of his life bad enough to make it official.

“Now you listen to me, Kylie Ryans,” Pauly said, snatching the pen from her hand. “You trust no one, do you understand? I work for Trace, and other managers work for their artists, and do not ever for one second think that just because someone likes you they won’t trick you into signing something that could be damaging to you. Matter of fact, from now on you take Chaz or an attorney with you any time you are asked to sign anything.” The manager leaned forward and held her gaze until she responded.

“Pauly, it’s five-thirty in the morning, and honestly, there’s really no way Trace could hurt me more than he already has. Do you want me to sign the damn papers or not?” Kylie was way past out of patience. She couldn’t wait for this to be over so she could snuggle down in her bed until it was time to pick up her friends at the airport. Thank God she’d finally be recording in the studio tomorrow. She had a lot of pain and anguish to work out.

Pauly sighed and handed her the heavy black pen back. “Okay, but I mean it. From here on out you read anything you sign and get Chaz and a lawyer to read it too.”

“Yes, Dad,” she said without thinking. She scribbled her name across all the papers and grabbed a menu. “So what are you having?” she asked the man staring at his phone instead of a menu.

“Actually I’ve got another meeting I have to get to but I’ve already told the waitress I’m covering your breakfast, so order anything you like.” Pauly gathered the signed documents and slid them into a folder.

“You’re not staying?” She tried to keep the pathetic whine of abandonment out of her voice. Fail.

“Happy birthday, Kylie. And good luck with Vitamin Water thing,” the manager said as he slid out of the booth.

“How did you—”

“Small town.” He answered her unfinished question just before he turned on his heel and left. Geez, she’d just now heard about it being a real possibility in a text from Chaz. She should be excited. But after signing legal documents reminding her that she no longer had any connection to Trace Corbin, she couldn’t muster even an ounce of enthusiasm.

When the waitress came she ordered a coffee to go and rested her head on her table while she waited. Even after everything with Trace, she’d never felt more used and alone than right that moment.

Carrying her Styrofoam cup of coffee up the stairs to her apartment was nearly impossible. Because she was made of lead and the small cup of coffee weighed at least a hundred pounds. She missed her dad. Just thinking about him stung her deep inside because she knew he’d be disappointed in her.

The daughter he’d raised never would’ve let her feelings over some ridiculous man keep her from focusing on her career. Lifting her head as she trudged up the stairs, she vowed to stop this stupidity. She was not this girl. Coming to Nashville had been her dream because she loved the gift of music her father had given her and damned if she wasn’t going to use it.

Glancing at her watch as she reached her door, she realized it was 5:40. Two minutes past when her dad would’ve barged into her room with his guitar. She took a deep breath and wiped her face hard to keep the tears from coming.

The smell of pancakes and bacon thick in the air made Kylie wonder if she was hallucinating. Most likely it just clung to her from the diner. Now if she saw her dad come through the apartment singing Happy Birthday and holding his guitar, she was going to need to see a shrink, and soon.

But when she opened the door to her apartment, that’s exactly what she saw.

W
hen
the man in front of her stopped singing, Kylie used every ounce of strength she had to stay vertical. It wasn’t easy since her legs were ready to give out and leave her slumping against the door.

“What are you doing here? How did you even get in?” she asked, clutching her cup of coffee so tightly she worried she’d puncture it.

“Word on the street is that you’re having a rough time, and I, uh, have friends in high places,” he said with a wink.

“Oh yeah? Well, I don’t need your pity party, Trace Corbin,” she said through gritted teeth.

“That’s not the only reason,” he told her, setting down her guitar and taking off his hat.

“I’m listening.”

Trace cleared his throat and leaned against the breakfast bar. “What you said on the bus, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” She could see the strain in his eyes but she was also hearing what he wasn’t saying. Pity and guilt—that’s why he was here.

“And how did you think it would make me feel, being compared to Darla, called a lying whore, and getting kicked out of Rae’s birthday party?” Her heart pounded so forcefully against her chest she was sure it was visible through her shirt.

“You take that saying everything you feel real seriously, don’t you?” Trace inquired as he pulled his hat back on.

“You know I do.”
And he knew why
. Kylie clenched her fists. She’d never wanted to strike another human being as badly as she wanted to hit Trace Corbin right that second.

“Well then here’s one for you. After learning that you lied about not having any living relatives when we’d slept together, I was angry and pretty damn afraid that you were part of some grand scheme to end my career. But when I heard you telling Cora on Skype that it was a one-time thing, well that felt even shittier than being lied to.”

Something hard in her softened a few degrees. “What was I supposed to think, Trace? You paid off my stepmother, for which I was about to thank you when you burst in and called me a no talent hack who no one would remember.” She shrugged but her vital organs seemed to be struggling to function, squeezing and clenching and thudding inside of her.

“Kylie, all I can say is that I am a different man when I’ve been drinking and not a particularly good one. I say things I don’t mean and then don’t remember saying them. My dad…well, he was like that too. Trust me when I say it’s not something I’m proud of. But what I said about your career after the, er, encounter with your stepmom was just me repeating to Pauly the lies I told her to make her go the hell away. I’d hoped it would be enough to get her out of your life for good.”

“Okay, well, that does make me feel better,” she told him, setting her coffee down on the counter. “But you also called me a shitty life choice when you were completely sober, and frankly, you were probably right.”

“Kylie…”

“No, just, no,” she said, shaking her head to keep him from continuing. “I don’t know what you’re really doing here or what came over us after your party but I know that things would be better if we’d never met.” Kylie sucked in a breath, ignoring the way he recoiled at her harsh words, and continued. “You’ve taken everything good in my life and turned it into something painful. I should be on cloud freaking nine right now but all I do is miss you and hurt. My whole life I wanted to be touring and recording music with people who give a damn about me, and my career and now my dreams are finally coming true. But all I feel is emptiness because I’m wishing I was on a farm in Georgia with someone who considers me nothing more than a shitty life choice.” Her head kept turning slightly back and forth as if she were disagreeing with her own words. Or maybe it was because she couldn’t believe she was saying them, out loud, to the one person she didn’t want to tell.

Trace huffed out a breath and stared at her for what felt like forever. His forehead scrunched as if he were deciding whether or not to divulge a precious secret. “That’s not what I meant,” he said evenly with a slight shake of his own head. “I wasn’t talking about you when I said that, but I knew how it sounded and I tried to apologize and explain, but you left…and Kylie, what you just said, about people giving a damn? I hate to be the one to tell you this, but no one really does. This is a business and that’s all. You’ll save yourself a hell of a lot of hurt and disappointment if you realize that now.”

He said something else but all she heard was
I don’t give a damn about you—no one really does
.

“Thank you for the life lessons, Trace. Please go now.” She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. No way she would have the strength to let him go any other way. She couldn’t keep looking at the blue shirt he wore. It was the same damn one of his that was supposed to be hers. All he wanted was to keep schooling her about the gritty underbelly of the business or whatever, and all she wanted was him.

“Okay, I’ll go,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But you asked why I came and I never got to answer. I came to tell you I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and done that have hurt you, truly I am. I care about you, Kylie, and any guy who only wants you for one night is a damned fool.”

A tiny squeak escaped her throat at Trace’s words.

“And you’re not the only one that would give it all up to go back to that day in Macon. Bye, Kylie Lou. You take care of yourself.” He stepped closer, looming over her as she shrunk beneath his words.
Say something. Ask him to stay. Tell him you care about him right back.
But he kissed her on the top of her head and let himself out. Time stood still around her as she took in the pancakes and bacon Trace had made sitting on the counter.

It was enough to convince her legs to finally give out beneath her. That was twice now that a man she loved reached out and she let him go. Like in her nightmares, she just couldn’t find the words.