Mandy Makes Her Mark (10 page)

Regina McCary hung on to every note, imagining that the familiar adrenaline rush might be what a natural-born predator felt as it closed in on its prey. She drained the last of her weak gin and tonic and forced down a bite of her sandwich. It wouldn't do to let hunger or dehydration slow her down, not this close to the score.

“Not bad, is she?” a familiar voice grated in her ear when the song ended. The small audience clapped enthusiastically, especially a group of drunk guys taking up most of the back of the bar around the pool tables, and Regina could barely hear him. But she'd know that voice anywhere. Her heart sank and she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed: not here, not now. Surely, he wouldn't have followed her all the way here from Nashville, not when this was supposed to be her first vacation in six years.

But when she finally opened her eyes, it was Carl Cash who had slid into the chair across the small table from her. He pushed her plate out of the way to make room to set his familiar canvas knapsack on the table.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Regina demanded.

“Following up on a hot tip. But, honey, you don't want to talk about work, do you? Not while you're on vacation.”

“How do you know I'm on vacation?”

But Regina could guess, and her heart plummeted because there was only one person who could have told Carl where she was, and the betrayal stung: Meredith Jester wasn't just her boss, she was supposedly her friend.

“I'd
have
to be your friend to do this,” Meredith had said the day she told Regina she had two choices: take a vacation, or find another job. “It would be easier to just cut you loose. Or let you work yourself to death.”

Meredith had always had a soft spot for Carl, who had worked at her talent agency before striking out on his own. Never mind that Carl had become her number one competitor. Meredith was loyal to all of her former employees. That had worked out well back when Regina had been dating him, and even better when she'd been engaged to him. Meredith had even helped plan their wedding, when she wasn't busy running her talent agency.

When Regina and Carl broke up, Regina suggested it would be a good time for Meredith to let go too. But Meredith replied that there were enough rising country music stars to keep both Cash Professional Management and the Jester Group busy, and besides, she enjoyed the competition. She and Carl continued to try to poach each other's hottest clients while trading friendly barbs and gossip about Regina.

“Okay,” Regina said, taking a deep breath. “Look. I suppose Meredith told you to come up here and keep an eye on me. But I do know how to take a break from work, Carl. I'm on vacation, nothing more.”

“In a bar,” Carl said, raising an eyebrow, “with live music.”

“There aren't a whole lot of entertainment options in Conway, North Dakota,” Regina hedged. “Haven't you noticed?”

“Which makes it seem like a very odd choice for a vacation.”

“No, wait, there's hiking—”

“Yeah, Meredith told me about that. Miles of unpaved trails with views of… nothing. Come on, Regina, there's way better hiking around Nashville. And besides, you don't even own a pair of hiking boots.”

“And there's rafting on the Little Yellow River. And there's a historic fort around here somewhere—”

“Right. Maybe Meredith fell for all of that. But I think I know you just a little better than she does.” Carl tugged the leather laces of his knapsack and reached inside, pulling out a sleek top-of-the-line laptop.

The knapsack, like so much about Carl, was part of the disguise he had cultivated. He never actually came out and
denied
the rumors that he was Johnny Cash's nephew, but he made damn sure to cover up the fact he was the one who started most of those rumors. Regina was one of the only people who knew he'd been born Carl Bettendorf from upstate New York, and gotten himself a fancy East Coast education before coming to Nashville and transforming himself.

After a few taps of the keyboard, Carl spun the laptop around and Regina found herself looking at a publicity shot of the same girl who'd exited the stage only moments earlier. Underneath were the columns of data that Carl was so good at digging up: the handful of venues she'd played in the last few years, the few minor acts she'd opened for, the unknown bands she'd belonged to before they broke up.

Exhaustive research along with relentless determination was what Carl was known for. Just as what Regina was known for was discovering indie artists who were sure to become critics' darlings—and earn next to nothing.

“You wouldn't,” Regina breathed. “She's mine. I found her.” After a lot of hard work and almost as much soul searching, Regina had discovered Stiletta through an obscure blogger and recognized her commercial potential. Regina was determined to finally land a client who'd be a financial success, someone who'd attract the big labels and land the sort of contract that would finally make her colleagues stop treating her like an intern.

“Oh, yes, I certainly would,” Carl said. “That was a very expensive wedding we cancelled, Reggie. I've got to recoup those expenses any way I can.”

***

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ruby Laska has always been a bit contrary. Where others see stop signs, she sees green lights. What others consider obstacles, Ruby likes to think of as opportunities. And when it comes to men, Ruby has always loved the ones that her mother warned her about: demanding, conflicted, and more than a little dangerous.