I scowl, letting the chair rock again. “Pretty sure that’s not what I said.”
“Well, that’s what the headlines say, so Charity’s happy as shit. The first YouTube video posted from last night has over a half million hits already. Bet it’ll get to a million by the end of the day.”
Jesus, not exactly what I planned when I walked into the White Horse Saloon, but then again, I don’t regret it either.
Any of it.
“So why do you sound so pissed off?”
I cast again, not willing to let Nick cost me another fish when I rarely get a chance to drop a line in this early, if ever.
“Amber’s camp is starting to make noises, and the better you look, the louder they’re getting.”
“What kind of noises?”
Nick pauses and his voice drops low, like he’s worried about being overheard. “I got word late last night that there’s a chance she’s filing for an annulment this week.”
“An annulment? You’ve gotta be joking.”
“Britney did it. So did Kenny Chesney. So it’s not like Amber will be the first. Shit, I bet they already had odds on how long that marriage would last in Vegas.”
Even though Amber has only officially been out of my life for less than a week, with every day that passes, I realize the writing has been on the wall for much longer and I was too blind to see it. Or maybe I just didn’t want to see it. I haven’t seen her in over a month. Even when we were in the same city on the same night, we couldn’t manage to connect. Before the proposal, I hadn’t heard her voice in ten days. We’d communicated solely through texts.
What kind of relationship is that?
Not much of one, in my opinion.
The more distance I get from her, the more perspective I find. I loved theideaof Amber, but now I’m starting to wonder if I ever lovedher. It’s a hell of a realization to chew on as the sun rises on this beautiful Tennessee morning.
“From here on out, feel free to keep anything you hear about Amber to yourself. I closed that chapter and I’m moving on.”
“What if she hasn’t?” Nick asks.
I sit up straighter. “I think she closed it pretty loud and clear when she married another man.”
“Fine, but I’m still watching it like a ticking time bomb.”
“That’s your job, Nick. Not mine. Anything else I can help you with today?”
“Yeah, call Charity when it’s a decent hour. You’ve got a whole slew of radio station interviews to do with this new single. Have you seen the charts? It’s already climbing to the top. You’re gonna have another number one on your hands by the weekend. We’ll do some morning shows, and if the radio play keeps going, probably a few of those late-night gigs that I know you hate.”
It takes everything I have not to swear into the phone. Those late-night TV show hosts are all trying to outdo each other to be the funniest fuck on TV, and all it does is succeed in pissing me off. They love to make us country folk look like idiots to help their ratings.
“I’m not agreeing to shit yet. Have Charity tell me who reaches out, and I’ll tell you where and when I’ll consider going.”
“Every other artist on my client list would kill for these opportunities—”
“Then hand ’em down the line. Because I don’t need some slick asshole in New York or LA trying to make me look like a dumb redneck on late-night TV.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“On my terms.”
“Fine. But let me or Charity know the next time you’re gonna pop into some local bar and get the crowd fired up. We like to get ahead of this kind of media coverage and make sure you’ve got enough security.”
“That all?”
“Yeah.”