Page 79 of SnowBound

18

ANDERSON

Ichanged my plans. Instead of driving straight to New York, like I had decided when I left my mother’s house in a hurry, I stayed in Nashville for three days. I even secured a gig on Broadway on Friday night. Turned out I went there to grab food and got to talking with the owner. Tucker Philips. A transplant from Chicago, who went from hedge fund banking to country music bar owner. He part-owned Wild and Country with his wife and another guy. The food was delicious, and the atmosphere was everything I liked about an establishment in Nashville.

“My main act for the night just canceled on me. Think you have what it takes to replace them?”

I flashed him my biggest grin. “Yep. I totally do. Wanna hear some of my stuff?”

“Sure.”

He took the stool on my left, and I showed him the clips from my last three performances on my phone.

“Okay, you are that good. I was wondering if you were just cocky.”

“Never, man. So, is it a yes for tonight?”

“Absolutely. The stage is yours, kid. Be here at seven. You’ll start at eight.”

“Sounds great.”

He clapped my shoulder and left me to my burger.

For the rest of the afternoon, I strolled through town. I loved everything about Nashville. The music, the people, the ambiance, the bars. Sitting on a bench overlooking the Cumberland River, I tried to order my chaotic thoughts and find my calm. The idea of playing on Broadway tonight was the biggest adrenaline rush I’d had in forever. A dream of mine. Half of me wanted to say Screw it to my college education. But I had made a promise to my mother that I would be free to pursue any career I wanted as long as I had a degree. I had two years of college left to hold up my end of the bargain. Still, I couldn’t wait to be done with it and live my dream.

I returned to Wild and Country around six, in time to grab a bite before my set. Indulging in the best Southern chicken fries I’d ever had, I watched the live act playing. A girl singing her heart out. The lyrics that exited her mouth sounded as if they were coming straight from her soul.

The band that had taken the stage earlier when I’d first come here was good but only played cover songs. When I performed, I always played my own compositions in between well-known songs the crowd could sing along to.

I loved that the girl’s songs were her own. Just from the way she sang, I could tell she wrote every single one of them. That they spoke to her and were parts of her.

I focused on the food on my plate when my skin prickled with awareness.

My spine tingled, and all my senses were on high alert.

It had never happened before. Well, it did. Once. The night Abby and I met last winter. When she walked into that café, I had felt a foreign sensation trailing down my back. And when she had touched my hand, my pulse had increased in a manner it never did before.

With a roll of my shoulders, I tried to erase the feeling. No matter what I did, it stayed with me. Perhaps it was the idea of playing here. In a town I loved like my own and a stage that hosted some of my idols from time to time.

Still, a warm flush traveled along my core.

Looking around, I tried to spot anyone I might know. A figure that stood out in the crowd. Most people having dinner looked like they just got off from work. A few tables were occupied by couples or friends enjoying the happy hour.

My gaze settled on a girl about my age with platinum blonde hair swaying on her chair by herself and watching the live act. Two half-eaten plates of food rested in front of her. She had company. I felt like a creep and brought my focus back to my own meal.

Surfing on my phone, I killed the time before it was my time to shine onstage.

The girl I spied on earlier walked by my table as she followed a server to the bar. I watched her pay the check. Our eyes met, and a lopsided smile tilted her lips. She was pretty. But I felt no connection whatsoever as I stared at her for a fraction of a second.

She nodded in my direction, waved at someone, and moved toward the door, her night here over.

The air surrounding me eased. Whoever that girl was, I had no idea why my body reacted to her presence. It made no sense. If we were destined to meet, wouldn’t I have been attracted to her when our gazes met?

I was being silly. And made no sense.

Pushing the thought away, I shoved a hand into my pocket, searching for my lucky penny. The one that had followed me around for as long as I could remember. I always put it in my guitar case whenever I played a show.

When my fingers didn’t connect with the familiar coin, I recalled I had misplaced it. Somehow. When I was in Memphis. I had no idea when it went missing. I realized it disappeared the night I played my set at Rock ‘n’ Country, the bar Rufus’s dad owned.