Page 80 of SnowBound

I remembered everything went to hell when I couldn’t find it. Yep, it was the night I got into that fight with my mother over my father. Fucking great.

Deciding to put that episode behind me, I finished my plate, and with minutes to spare before seven, I met Tucker in his office. I knocked on the ajar door, and he invited me in. “Ready, kid? Or are you having cold feet?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I wanted to thank you for the opportunity. It’s a big deal for me to play here, and I’m grateful.”

“You’re welcome. Entertain my crowd and give a great show, and I’ll call you back when I have openings.”

“Huh…well. I live in New York City right now. I’m just here for a few days.”

“College?”

“Yeah. Two years to go. Degree in music.”

He nodded. “Wow. Love it. Proves you are serious.” He sat back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, his ankle resting on his knee. The man radiated effervescent energy, and for a second, I could picture him in a suit as a restless banker.

I sighed. “Yeah, but I’d much prefer to be in town and play what I like every day instead.”

“I can tell you have talent. Why not get a degree? It’s never wasted. And who knows? It could turn out to be useful down the road.”

“Why did you move here? If it’s not too personal?”

“I fell in love. She liked it here. Sold everything, quit my job, and made a life for myself in town. I never looked back.”

I chuckled. “There’s always a girl, right?”

He returned my laughter. “Yep. Always. When you find the one, never let her go. I almost lost mine once. Biggest mistake of my life.” He turned around the picture frame set on his desk to show me his family. His wife was beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes so sparkling it reminded me of a girl with jet-black hair. A contrast to his dark skin, black hair in a crew cut, and brown-eyed appearance. Their kids had mocha skin and curly brown hair and were a perfect mix of both their parents.

“They are beautiful. Seems like you rectified that mistake.”

He nodded, staring at the picture, a smile drawing on his lips, lost in some memories. “Yeah. They are my entire world. It hadn’t always been easy, and we went through some tough times, but in the end, it was all worth it.” His attention returned to me. He stood and circled his desk, gesturing to the door. “Come with me. Let’s get you set up.”

I played for almost two hours. The crowd was ecstatic, and the more I strummed my guitar and sang, the more my mood improved.

Mid-set, Tucker met me onstage. “Man, you are more than talented. Fuck, I wish you’d lived in the city full-time. Whenever you’re around, let me know. I’ll find a spot for you.” We exchanged a handshake, and he pointed to the bar at the back of the room. “Grab a snack or a drink. Whatever you want is on the house.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

The rest of the night was electric. I kept a thirty-minute window for special requests. I could have continued for hours. I wasn’t tired but energized when I played the last song of the night.

People clapped and cheered, and it filled me with uncontainable joy.

“You’re Anderson?” a man I recognized as Riley Burns, Nashville’s most sought-after music manager, neared me while I was storing my guitar in its case.

“Yes.”

He held out his hand, and I met his palm to shake it. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Anderson Ford.”

“Riley Burns. Don’t sir me, man. I’m not my father.” And, at that instant, I realized the man standing before me was none other than the son of Curtis Burns, a country music legend and one of my idols. “That show you gave was incredible. I would love to talk to you when you have some time.” He pushed a business card into my hand. “Call my assistant first thing Monday morning, and she’ll schedule a meeting.”

I swallowed my nervousness. “I won’t be in town next week.”

“No problem. She’ll work with your schedule.”

I scratched my nape. “The thing is that I don’t live here. I’m studying in New York. And I’m on my way there because I have gigs booked for the next couple of months and a job I need to return to.”

Riley watched me with a frown and blinked. “You serious?”

“Totally. I promised my mother I’d finish my degree before pursuing a music career.” I sighed. “Two years to go. As soon as I graduate, I’m free to do whatever I want. Until then, I have to focus on my studies. I only play for fun. Weddings. Receptions. Bars.”