Ripley isn’t prepared in the least for what she’d be stepping into if she decides to take this opportunity and run with it.Shit, Nick even called me when he saw the video and said he’d think about signing her, because right now it would be so easy to get her a deal.
Nick’s exact words?“You can’t make up a better backstory.Former bartender with a tragic past, discovered at open mic-night after capturing the attention of one of country music’s biggest stars.Who wouldn’t sign her?”
But to me, Ripley can’t be summed up that easily.She’s so much more than they realize.Definitely more than she realizes.
I’m at the end of the bar Hope is working, but with my thicker beard, cowboy hat, and pearl-snap shirt, I look like another wannabe cowboy.It sucks to ditch my T-shirt and ball cap, but I’m willing to suck it up for one night of anonymity.
I keep my tattoos hidden in the shadows as I nurse a beer and watch Ripley hustle.Do I feel like a stalker?A little.But I choose to think of it as keeping an eye out to make sure she gets home safe.
More than one person has approached her, and I can tell when it’s about last night’s performances because her body language changes completely.She goes from customer-service mode to totally uncomfortable in a heartbeat.
She doesn’t even realize she could probably have a record deal by next weekend if she wanted.Likely with a crap label who’s going to give her a shit deal.
Unless ...There’s one label in town that’s starting to make a reputation for itself as an artist’s label—Homegrown Records.Holly Wix Karas wouldn’t let it be anything less.If Ripley wants to do this right, Homegrown is the way to go.
I need to make a call.Just in case.
Now that Holly’s back to work part-time after having the baby, I bet she’d be interested in picking up some new talent for her label, especially someone as down to earth as Ripley.
The more I think about it, there’s no one else I’d feel as comfortable having her sign with, not even my own label.
I lower my beer when I realize where this train of thought has taken me.
It doesn’t matter what I want or don’t want for Ripley.All that matters is what she wants.And if she wants to run with this, I’ll support her every step of the way and make sure she has every advantage.
15
Ripley
The crowd gets thickeras the night goes on, instead of thinning out like I hoped.I should be happy the tips are flowing, so I focus on that instead of the fact that my ankle is aching something fierce.Of course I forgot to grab some Advil to shove in my bag, and the first aid kit is out, so I’m gritting my teeth against the pain.
The bands booked for tonight weren’t bad, but they also weren’t great.Regardless, I’ve been thinking all night about what it would be like to be onstage instead of behind the bar.Standing up there gives you a completely different perspective.The crowd was so into the music, and when I let myself get sucked into the lyrics, it went so fast.Only a few minutes, but for each second, I was transported somewhere else.Away from the constant grind that has become my life.
Maybe everyone’s right.Maybe this is my one shot, and I’d be a fool not to take it.
I move down the bar, taking orders and making drinks until I come face-to-face with my cousin.
“I’d order a double shot of revenge, but I hear that’s best served cold.”Brandy’s tone carries a sharp edge of malice.
I wish I’d asked Boone what the hell had happened before I got out of the truck.
“You brought it on yourself.”
The corners of her mouth turn down in a scowl.“You betrayed your own family.Who does that?”
I want to screamyou dofor all the times Brandy has screwed me over, but there are too many people watching for me to lose my shit.
“Say your piece and kindly leave.I’m working.”
“Say my piece?Okay, I’ll get right on that,Ripley.”My name sounds like a curse on her lips.“How could you turn your back on the people who did so much for you?Me, your pop, my mom—”
Her twisted view of things makes me want to throw up.“Are you serious?Popfiredme and threw me out.You’ve been stealing from the bar.You’re the reason I installed the stupid cameras to begin with.Then you sold me out to the media after one freaking night!And I haven’t done a damn thing to your mom—”
Brandy laughs.“Wasn’t my fault you weren’t more careful with him.You’re lucky I didn’t do worse.Now I wish I’d taped all that grunting and moaning.I could’ve made a million off a sex tape.Easy.”
Oh.My.God.
“You didn’t,” I breathe in horror, thinking what an absolute disaster that would be.