Final Encore (5 page)

asked, and Bily agreed.

The next few afternoons, when Bily got back

from the trail rides, Jules helped take care of the horses

so Bily could meet with the band at Jean’s, choose a

list of songs to sing with them for the next month, and

get some rehearsal time in before the bar opened. Bily

knew he had to work hard if he was going to make it. A

month was a long time, and he hoped like hel that it

was enough time to be discovered.

IAN DILLON was just finishing dinner at Milie’s Pub,

which had become a favorite of his, and was headed to

a late recording session to complete a demo for a new

artist he’d recently discovered, when his cel phone

rang. He flipped open the phone. “This is Ian.”

“Ian, hi, honey, it’s Jean.”

“Hey, what’s up, dol?”

“Listen, when you get a chance, it would

probably be worth it for you to stop in and check out

this new kid that won the open mic contest this week.

His name is Bily Eagan, and he’s something else. The

kid’s got it al —looks, charisma, and most of al, talent.

I think you two would hit it off. The response from the

ladies has been overwhelming, and the guys even seem

to like him. You know guys, they especialy like anyone

who can get their ladies turned on,” Jean said with the

hint of a chuckle.

Ian laughed. “Yeah, I imagine so. I’m leaving

Milie’s, and I’ve got about an hour or so to kil, so I’l

see you in a few.”

Bily was settling into his new gig very wel. This

was his third night opening for Capitol Nashvile

recording artists Jed Strong & the Renegades, and

although Jed hadn’t said anything, Bily could tel that he

wasn’t very happy with the response Bily was getting

from the crowds. He imagined it was getting harder to

folow his act, but there was nothing he could do about

it but be sensitive to it and try not to rub it in.

He stepped up to the bar to get a bottle of water

to take on stage with him and saw Jean at the other end

of the bar on the telephone. He waved at her, and she

returned the gesture while continuing her conversation.

The house band was just starting their warm-up set, so

he had about forty-five minutes to go before he took the

stage.

He was just about to go backstage to wait until

showtime when he saw a couple of the guys from the

ranch walk in. He made his way through the crowd,

being stopped a time or two, shaking hands and smiling,

as if he was running for office. He didn’t quite

understand people’s sudden interest in him, but he

thought that it would probably fade by the end of his

month-long gig.

When he reached the guys, they al exchanged

greetings, ordered beers, and shot the bul for thirty

minutes or so. It was almost showtime, so Bily said his

farewels and headed backstage to freshen up. He

turned away from the bar and noticed Jean hugging a

gorgeous blond-haired man who had just walked in the

door. He felt a twinge of jealousy, not sure if it was

because Jean got to hug this gorgeous man or because

she seemed to be quite fond of him. He kept walking

but made a mental note to ask her who the man was.

Ian had arrived just minutes before Jean saw him.

She was about to make a beeline in his direction, but he

saw someone he knew and stopped to chat. As she

watched him carrying on his conversation, her memories

turned back to the first time Ian had walked through

those very doors some eight years ago.

Ian had walked into the bar looking very lonely

and broken. He’d just arrived in town and knew no

one, so Jean had reached out to him, and they’d talked

for several hours while she’d tended bar. After much

conversation, she’d realized that he was a nice young

man who’d had some realy bad breaks, and she’d

taken a liking to him. A bartender had quit that very

day, leaving Jean in desperate need of help, and Ian

was in desperate need of a job, so it worked out

perfectly. Jean had offered Ian the studio apartment

over the bar as lodgings, which he’d gratefuly

accepted.

The very next day, Ian had moved in and started

working. It hadn’t taken him long, Jean remembered, to

get comfortable with the rhythm of the bar business.

He’d begun bartending in the late afternoons when the

saloon was just opening, which helped him get familiar

with the layout and learn to mix the drinks and run the

register. He’d also done some bouncing on Friday and

Saturday nights, but he’d told her that the part of the

job he liked most was working with the performers,

getting them set up and ready for rehearsals and doing

sound and lighting checks.

Jean quickly noticed that Ian had a knack for

knowing who would be a hit and who wouldn’t, and it

wasn’t long before she’d had him involved with the

previewing, hiring, and scheduling of new talent.

Everything worked out perfectly, and with each day,

she’d seen a little of the weight he’d been carrying melt

away.

Every night, she’d taken special care to introduce

him to al of her friends, regulars, and business contacts.

And in no time at al, Ian had made quite a name for

himself as her right hand. One night, she’d introduced

him to Josh Randal, a talent scout for Capitol Records,

Nashvile.

The two men had hit it off right away and had

talked for over an hour. Jean had listened as Ian

described to Josh al the solo artists and groups he had

auditioned over the last couple of months. With

painstaking detail, he’d described to Josh who he

thought was going to make it and who wasn’t and, in his

opinion, why. Later, in private, Josh had told Jean that

he’d just been promoted and Capitol was looking for a

replacement scout. He’d been impressed by Ian’s

insights, and even though he wasn’t in the music

business, Josh thought that gave him a fresh approach

to new talent. It would be a hard sel to the record

label, but Josh had thought it was worth the fight. She

remembered how excited Ian had been when she’d told

him what she and Josh had discussed.

After many long conversations with Ian and

several meetings with the label, Josh had formaly

offered Ian the job. He’d accepted the position with a

great deal of excitement, and Jean was so happy for

him, but at the same time, she’d had a heavy heart at

the realization that he would no longer be working for

her. She’d known that she and Ian would always be

friends, but things would never be the same as they

were when he’d lived there at the saloon and worked

for her. They’d become very close, and she was, in a

way, his surrogate mother. She’d been thriled when Ian

had asked if he could continue living in the studio until

he found another place to live, as this living arrangement

would guarantee that they would see each other often.

Jean was snapped out of her thoughts as Ian

walked up and greeted her with a big hug and a kiss.

“Sure is good to see you, honey. How’ve you been?”

she asked.

Ian shrugged. “Pretty good, dol, no complaints.

You look younger every time I see you.”

“Oh, Ian, you’re only saying that ’cause it’s true,”

Jean replied with a smile. “Are you making time for any

fun, Ian?”

Of course she knew the answer was no, but she

kept encouraging Ian to put himself out there.

“No, ma’am,” Ian responded. “No time, too

much work to do.”

“Now, Ian,” Jean said as she walked him over to

her private table and gestured over her shoulder to the

bartender to get him whatever he wanted to drink on

the house. “I’ve got a cal on hold in the office, but

when I get off the phone, we’re going to talk about this

some more.” Ian smiled and nodded, because he knew

when Jean had something to say, there was no way out

of it.

He took a seat and ordered a beer from the

waitress and then sat back and waited for the show to

start. Jean’s table was on the back wal on the highest

level and was the perfect spot to watch the audience

and the stage.

As Ian sat there waiting for the newcomer to take

the stage, he thought, as he always did when he visited

Jean, how much things had changed since he’d first

wandered into Jean’s Magnolia Saloon al those years

ago.

He’d just turned twenty-one and was running as

far away from South Carolina as he could get. He

remembered watching Greenvile disappear in his

rearview mirror through teary green eyes as he made his

way out of town. So many emotions were

overwhelming him: anger, love, resentment, but mostly

betrayal. Those were the emotions he knew he would

forever associate with being in love. He’d silently

vowed never to expose himself to the possibility of such

pain again.

He’d looked for the closest route out of town,

and when he’d seen the entrance ramp to Interstate 26,

he’d taken it and headed north. He needed to be as far

away from his repulsive parents and the memories of

South Carolina as his truck would carry him. But

mostly, he needed to be away from Todd Slocum, the

love of his life, the man who had broken him so badly,

he would never be fixed again. He’d had no idea how

he was going to deal with the blinding pain he’d felt at

the hand of the man who had vowed to care for and

love him forever.

He’d driven most of the night. Thirsty and in need

of a bathroom break, he’d searched for an exit. As he

was approaching the next off ramp, a sign read

“Interstate 40 West, Knoxvile, Two Miles.” Shortly

after he merged onto I-40, he saw a bilboard that said,

“Visit the Grand Ole Opry,” and he knew he was going

to Nashvile.

When he’d reached the Nashvile skyline, he’d

gotten a room at a cheap, dirty motel and left in search

of a quiet place to eat and hopefuly to decide what his

next move would be. He’d found a greasy diner and

picked the first thing on the menu. When his food had

come, he’d eaten more out of necessity than desire and

paid the check and left.

He remembered climbing into his truck and being

overtaken by emotion. Folding his arms on the steering

wheel, he’d laid his head down on his arms; the

memories of recent events had seemed to rush at him

with more force than ever. It had taken everything he

had to push his thoughts away as more tears slid out of

his closed eyes and ran down his cheeks. At that

moment, his mind and heart had been so ful he couldn’t

have begun to make any long-term plans. He’d lifted his

head, opened his eyes, and wiped the tears from his

cheeks. Through tear-stained eyes, the neon lights of

Broadway seemed to have an eerie glow that had held

his gaze. At that moment he’d decided he would stay in

Nashvile for a day or two, and when his mind was

clearer and he felt more rested, he would come up with

a game plan.

Out of the corner of his eye, he’d noticed a

flashing neon sign in the next block with a large shape

that seemed to be a flower of some sort. Straining his

eyes, he’d barely made out the writing: Jean’s Magnolia

Saloon. He’d puled his truck onto 2nd Avenue, turned

left, and puled into the parking lot. When he’d opened

the door to the lounge, he was immediately hit with the

scent of alcohol, sawdust, smoke, and the sound of Tim