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Chapter One
Wade
Two Months Ago
“Why the heck are you late, Wade?” My manager Roger greets me the moment I step out of my Lamborghini. “You know how important this meeting is.”
“I know … Jade was just being—” I trail off, not really caring to talk about my girlfriend—well, ex-girlfriend—right now, because the reality of what this meeting is about is hitting me a little harder now that I’m standing in the parking lot of my attorney’s office.
I smooth out my black t-shirt, rolling my shoulders a few times. There’s about a ninety-nine percent chance that I look like a mess, my brown hair disheveled and my jeans pulled straight from the dryer—not even totally dry. But whatever, I’m the “alt-country rebel” according to the rest of the world, so I live up to the label.
Sometimes more than I wish I actually did.
“Let me guess, she was being the toxic, selfish—”
“I broke up with her,” I say, cutting him off. “Well, we broke up—not sure exactly who did what, but that’s why I’m late. Sorry.” I let out a sigh as we step through the glass doors of the multi-story office building.
“Well, this one is a record, you made it a whole five months.” Roger grunts, as we step through the elevator. “But I’m glad to hear you ended it, you gotta quit dating these toxic women. We’re never going to get your child custody arrangement figured out if you don’t stop dating precarious women,” he says, punching the third-level button.
“That’s the only kind of woman that will date me—and you know I don’t date fans,” I add, running my hand over the stubble on my face. “Those are usually worse.”
“I get that, but you need stability,” Roger continues as we step out of the elevator, heading down the hallway to the attorney’s office.
Whenever I have to visit this office, I get the most awful sensation in the pit of my stomach. I’m pretty sure it’s because I’ve never gone to this attorney’s office for anything other than purely bad news. Usually, it’s for damage control over something stupid I did after drinking too much.
“Be on your best behavior, please,” Roger warns me as we reach the black door. “Mr. Mason is already not happy with how things have been going for you. You’ve been getting into more and more trouble lately, and you really need to get it together—be thankful that he’s even working on the custody stuff with Harper, because he doesn’t have to do that.”
Ugh. Harper … nothing I ever do is good enough for my ex-wife. Which is why I currently don’t have custody of Cooper, our eight-year-old son. But I really want to fix that—which is part of what this meeting is about.
And considering I’m late, it’s not looking good for me.
“Got it,” I grunt. “So, I guess no jokes today about where lawyers go, right?”
“Please, just don’t.” Roger sighs, running his fingers through his dark hair. My manager isn’t much older than me, surprisingly. He’s a pretty attractive guy, and somehow, he’s still single—though not for the same reasons I can’t hang on to a girl. Pretty sure, he has the opposite problem. He’s such a stickler about schedules, that he can’t even enjoy a spontaneous date night.
Not that I have much of those either.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Mr. Mason greets us as soon as we walk through the door. He’s a skinny, white-haired fella, and he does not look happy to see me. “I see that we’re still living on a rockstar’s version of being on time.”
Ouch.
Looks like he’s got jokes this morning.
“We’re very sorry we’re late.” Roger clears his throat nervously, taking a seat across from him. “I see that Jim won’t be joining us.”
“Not this morning,” Mr. Mason says, tapping his fingers on a stack of papers on the desk. “Jim let me know that Mr. Lewis has already been made aware that he needs to start producing more tracks for his upcoming album. So today, we’re going to focus on the PR nightmare that he’s turned into. Starting with this.” He pushes the stack of papers in my direction, raising an eyebrow at me.
I glance down at the tower of papers and inwardly cringe. “Can’t you just tell me what the heck that book is about?”
“Try the requirements the judge down in Texas has set for you in order to get to see your son,” Mr. Mason says through gritted teeth. “To put it in simple terms, you need to clean up your act, Wade.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about—this is what being a musician is all about,” I lie, knowing good and well that I’ve made a mess of my life this past year. And the only reason I’m a musician is because it’s the only thing that I’m any good at. Lord knows I wouldn’t make it as a rancher or corporate man like the rest of my family.
I tried to rodeo back in high school, and I sucked. Growing up, I was just the musically gifted kid … who always let everyone down.
Some things never change.
I swallow the pang of hurt hitting me in the chest at the thought. My brothers, Sawyer, Carson, and Hunter are all perfect in my parents’ eyes—still in Texas, living and working on the family ranch, married, and starting families. Even my oldest brother, Sawyer, who’s more interested in finances than horse handling, still somehow manages to be a corporate cowboy.
