Chapter Two
Addy
The intercom on my desk startles me when it comes to life. “Addy there’s a Jim Neumann on the line for you. Should I put him through?”
“Yup. Go ahead, Nelle.” Oh this oughta be good. I haven’t talked to him in a good long while. The line blinks and I pick it up. Before I can say hello, my old friend’s voice booms over the line. “Miss Addy Mae Masterson, how in the heck are ya, darlin’?”
I can’t help but laugh—he’s laying it on thick. “Well if it isn’t Jimmy Don Neumann. Calling me from his fancy-pants office in San Antonio,” I tease.
“It’s Jim now. Gotta keep these boys on their toes here and Jimmy Don is a nice guy name.”
“Whatever you say, Jimmy Don,” I chuckle.
“You’re still a pain in the ass I see.”
“Did you ever doubt it?”
Jimmy Don lets slip his own laugh. “Not for a second.”
“I know you didn’t call just for me to give you hell, now did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” He sighs deeply, and I can hear him shuffling papers on the other end of the line. “I need a favor. Can I take you to lunch?”
I pull up my calendar. “For sure. When will you be in town?”
“ I’m in town now, permanently actually.”
“Oh! Everything all right with your granny?” Miss Haddie hasn’t been feeling well according to my mama. I hope that’s not what has him coming back to town.
“No. No. Everything’s okay with Granny. She’s doing much better than she was. Thank you for asking.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I’ll have to get down to see her soon. So what brings you to town then?”
“Today? You actually.”
“Me?” More curious than ever, I lean back in the white leather chair and wait him out.
“Can you do lunch today? I’ve called ahead to your favorite place to see if they can hold a table for us.”
“Moonshine?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawls heavily.
“‘Mighty sure of yourself, Jimmy Don,” I tease, knowing I’ll be clearing my afternoon. Whatever it is must be important.
“More like desperate,” he says, confirming my suspicion.
“What time?” I look at the watch on my wrist. “I can probably make it there around one.”
“That’s perfect. I appreciate it, Addy. I know you’re a busy gal.”
I laugh at his “gal.” “That I am. Not too busy for an old friend though. See you in a while.”
“Bye, darlin’.”
Disconnecting the call, I buzz Nelle.
“What can I do you for, Miss Addy?”
My secretary is about sixty-five with unusually blue hair and old-fashioned rimmed glasses complete with a little string for them to dangle around her neck from and all, and yes, she insists on calling me “Miss Addy.”
“Can you clear my afternoon? I’m going to be out of the office, not sure when I’ll be back.”
“Sure thing, honey. You didn’t have much on there since you were supposed to meet with Miss Willow,” she answers. I can hear her pecking away on her keyboard as she speaks.
“Oh shi-oot.” Cussing in front of Nelle is like cussing in front of my Memaw. It just doesn’t happen. “I forgot. I better call her. You can handle the rest for me?”
“Of course, already done.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Nelle.”
“Let’s not find out,” she chortles.
Shaking my head, I disconnect and immediately dial Willow. She picks up on the fourth ring sounding out of breath.
“Addy? Hey. I’m here,” she huffs.
“What in the world are you doing that has you so out of breath?” I ask. Then think better of it. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to know.”
My friend’s soft laugh floats over the line. “No, you probably don’t.”
“Hi Addy,” her man calls out.
“Hi Stone,” I reply. “Anyway, I’ll let you get to whatever it is you were doing, I just wanted to call and tell you I need to reschedule lunch. I’ve had something come up.”
“That’s fine. Everything okay?”
“Absolutely. Just got a call from Jimmy Don Neumann. You remember him, of course. He’s in town and asked to see me. Practically begged.”
“Huh. Interesting. Do you know what he wants?”
“Not a clue,” I admit.
“Call me when you guys are through. I’m super curious now.”
“I will. Don’t you worry about that,” I laugh. Glad to have her home even for this little while. Ever since she moved to Toronto, I’ve been a little lost without my friend. It’s a good thing Stone’s sister, Scarlet, decided to stay here. After she moved into their house, she and I have become really great friends. But nobody can ever replace Willow. We’ve been friends for so long, but it’s also nice to have someone else around who knows the business we’re in and doesn’t get silly over the famous musicians I associate with on a daily basis. For Scar, being the sister to one of the biggest rock stars in the world goes a long way in helping with that, I reckon. A giggle and a muffled receiver remind me of what I probably interrupted.
“Okay, you two. I’m hanging up. I’ll talk to you soon!” I end the call not waiting for a reply. Those two are still like newlyweds and can never keep their hands off each other. I don’t need to hear any of that. Stone is like a brother to me, Willow my best friend. They can keep that business all to themselves.
Turning back to my computer, I finish up some things that won’t wait until after lunch. Starting our own label was the best decision we ever made, well, for me at least, since I was promoted from assistant to partner. Although, I still do a bunch of work for Judge as his assistant since he fires his about every other week. I think he’s on number six now. Judge is not the easiest guy to work for, and I’m clearly harder to replace than I thought. I’ve been his assistant ever since the guys signed with Fall Out Records a few years ago. Wrecked hit big and pushed the limits and then outgrew the label that was constantly trying to micromanage and whitewash them, so they decided to go out on their own.
Judge, Lawson, Stone, and Arrow have been best friends since childhood, Willow and I coming into the fold later and tagging along for their wild ride. So now we’re all a part of Hard Candy and we’ve already signed six artists in a year’s time. My job description may have changed drastically, but I’m okay with that. I’m looking forward to the future for the first time in what seems like forever.
Glancing at my watch one last time I get serious about the sheets in front of me.
Parking half a block away, I lock up the Jeep and walk the short distance to the wraparound porch of the restaurant. I’m not surprised he remembered it was my favorite. Every time Jimmy Don is in town, I drag him here. Walking in I’m greeted by the hostess.
“Well, hey there, Addy!”
“Hi Bailey.” I should be ashamed that I’m on a first-name basis with the staff. I’m not. But I should be. But I’m not.
“Just you today?”
“No ,I’m meeting someone. He said he called ahead. He may not be here yet.”
“He’s here. Let me take you over. Kyle sat him earlier. Left me a note. I wish he woulda said he was meeting you. I woulda put y’all at your favorite table.”
“It’s okay. I’ll survive sitting somewhere else,” I joke.
We round the corner into the room. “Out on the patio,” she indicates, leading the way out to the covered area.
“Perfect.” I love sitting outside here. There’s more privacy somehow. Following her back to the corner, I spot Jimmy Don. He stands as we approach and so does the man sitting with him. My steps falter a bit as recognition hits me. Beau McCrae. Country’s hottest bad boy. He’s like the Stone of country. Minus the drugs. At least I think minus the drugs. And he is fine. Home-grown, country boy, F. I. N. E.
Schooling my features, I pretend like I couldn’t care less that he’s there. And really I couldn’t. I’m used to having lunch with the biggest names in music. Beau McCrae is nothing special, I lie to myself. Did I mention the boy is fine?
“Addy. Thanks so much for meeting us.” My old friend greets me, a contrite look on his face as he pulls me in for a hug.
“No problem.” I smile, narrowing my eyes at him but not calling him out on the fact that he never mentioned he was bringing Beau. I can’t even begin to guess what the hell he’s up to.
“This is Beau. I don’t know if you’ve met yet,” Jimmy Don says as he pulls my chair out for me to sit.
“We haven’t.” Still standing I tilt my head in Beau’s direction, watching as his bored gaze travels down the front of me. Over my white tank top, black boyfriend jacket, frayed jeans, and Chucks. I’m suddenly self-conscious of the casual outfit I wore today thinking I was going to be meeting an old friend and not the hottest thing to happen to country music since Luke Bryan. He stands beside the table, the black t-shirt he’s wearing stretched taut over his chest and his arms. I’m sure the thing is going to split at the seams as it struggles to wrap itself around his biceps. Do they not make shirts in his size? Who am I kidding? I’m glad they don’t. I wait for him to finish his perusal. When he lands on my chest, the bane of my existence since the fifth grade, the year the other firls started wearing bras and me, well I didn’t, I clear my throat. He lingers. My nipples pebble like the traitorous little bastards that they are. I refuse to cross my arms to cover them no matter how badly I want to. Another throat clearing, this time from Jimmy Don, and Beau finally raises his gaze to mine. The smirk slashing across his mouth is sexy and infuriating. Ignoring it and the reaction my body is having to him and that smirk, I offer my hand.
“Addy Masterson.” He hesitates just a moment before taking mine in a loose hold. Even the brief contact gives me a little zing. Though it seems I’m the only one experiencing it. It’s pretty clear he doesn’t want to be here. Or maybe he doesn’t want me here. Either way, he’s not thrilled. Dropping his hand and his half-assed attempt at pleasantries, I sit, allowing Jimmy Don to put those manners his mama taught him to work, and push in my chair.
The second we sit the server hurries over. I’m pleased to see it’s one of my favorites.
“Miss Addy.” He beams, handing me a menu and setting down a glass of ice water. “You gonna have your usual to drink?”
Jimmy Don scoffs, “You have a usual?”
I manage a sheepish shrug. “I’m working a lot more these days. I find myself here for more meals than I’d like to admit.” I glance at what the guys are drinking—Beau has a beer in front of him, Jimmy Don a bourbon. Obviously they’re imbibing, I might as well. Hell, I might need one with whatever favor he’s brought me here to ask. “Yup, I reckon I’ll take my usual. Gotta catch up with these two.” I smile at him as he leaves to get my drink.
“What’s your usual, a white wine spritzer?” Beau drawls out mockingly, tipping his beer to his lips.
It’s gonna be like that, is it? Not bothering to answer him I turn to Jimmy Don, catching him making pleading eyes at Beau. When he realizes I’m watching him, he smiles a bit sheepishly.
“It’s been a little while. How have you been?”
“I’ve been good. Busy with the label.”
Beau puffs out a breath through his nose. What is this man’s problem? Why are we here if he so obviously doesn’t want to be? Why the hell am I here?
My drink is placed in front of me, the shiny copper mug glinting in the sun. “Are y’all ready to order?”
Before anyone speaks, I hold a finger up, “Give us just a minute please.” I wait ’til he walks away and then I let the questions fly. “What’s going on, Jimmy Don? This is not just a couple friends having lunch, clearly, since your boy here is bound and determined to be a jackass. So why don’t you cut the bullshit and tell me what’s really going on?” I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, I won’t start now. No matter how hot Beau McCrae is.
Jimmy Don lets out a deep resigned sigh. “I apologize for Beau—”
“Don’t apologize for me. I can speak for myself.” When he doesn’t say anything more, it takes everything in me to resist from slapping him upside his fool head.
“As I was saying, I apologize for Beau. It’s been a rough few days. A rough few months, if I’m honest.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a roll of antacids, popping three in his mouth and chewing. I’ve never seen my friend so stressed out. “It’s been a rough few weeks for all of us, and then last night Beau was officially released from the label, We had been told a few days ago but they made it public knowledge last night. Or rather early this morning.” Jimmy Don says in a hushed tone. He rambles on, talking about contracts and tour dates, but I’m barely listening.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Beau reach for my drink and bring it to his mouth for a sip. Is he kidding me right now? I turn my head to look at him, and he meets my gaze head on over the rim of my glass. He doesn’t shy away from my narrow-eyed glare. His go wide with surprise when he gets a taste of what’s in the copper mug. He nods his head in approval and places it back on the table like he didn’t just help himself to my drink. I just shake my head in disbelief and turn my attention back to Jimmy Don who is still talking. Poor thing is rattled. I tune in to what he’s saying a little too late. He’s finished and looking at me expectantly Shit.
“What are you asking me, Jimmy Don?” I don’t think he actually got to that part in his rambling. At least I hope not.
“I’m hoping that you can pick up the time left on his contract which would include his next album and sign him under Hard Candy.”
Did I just hear him right? “You want me to sign him?” I jerk my thumb in Beau’s direction, grateful we didn’t order our food yet. He might have helped himself to my plate if we had.
“I do.” He rushes to add, “I need your help, Addy. I think you guys would be really good for him, and he’s rising faster than anyone expected.”
That’s true, which makes no sense why his label would drop him and risk a lawsuit for breach of contract and all that other lawyer stuff I won’t pretend to understand.
Turning to a bored, and upon closer inspection, hung over Beau, I ask pointedly, “What did you do? And don’t tell me nothing. There’s no way that a label is going to drop an artist lighting the industry on fire. So what happened?” Jimmy Don clears his throat and starts to speak when I interrupt, my eyes still locked on Beau. “I’m not asking you, I’m asking him. It’s your job to sugarcoat his transgressions. I don’t want sugarcoating.”
Beau shrugs, “Little of this, little of that.” Takes him a second to realize that’s not going to fly. He huffs out a breath, “They consider me too big a risk.”
“Why?” Usually I’m on top of what’s happening on the music scene, but the last couple weeks have been spent focusing on the Wrecked tour, so I’m a little out of the loop. Probably wouldn’t take me but a minute to find out everything I need to know about one Beau McCrae.
“Because they can’t control me. I don’t fit into their perfect little box they’ve carved out for me.” It’s the first time I’ve heard any emotion in his voice. His drawl becoming more pronounced in his aggravation.
“Do you need to be controlled?” I ask without thinking about how that sounds.
His smile is as slow and smooth as his voice. “You offerin’?”
“Not a chance.” Turning back to Jimmy Don, who literally looks like he’s on the verge of a breakdown and so very unlike my usually in-control friend, “Is this the reason you’re coming back to town?”
“Yes and no. I had planned on moving to the satellite office here anyhow with Austin becoming like a little Nashville. That Beau is here just makes things easier.”
Makes sense. “You know that I can’t make any decisions without first talking things over with the rest of the team. I’m not even sure they’re going to want to take him on since clearly he’s a liability,” I hedge. Though I’m not sure how true that is. Beau is talented as all get out. Stone and Judge will care about that, and since they’re the ones who make most of the decisions, I won’t be surprised if they jump at the chance to sign Beau.
“I know you do. I just wanted to reach out to you. As a businessman and as one of your oldest friends.” He’s laying it on thick again.
“I’m gonna need you to fax me over his current contract so that we can have our lawyer look it over.”
He reaches into the briefcase I didn’t see tucked under the table and pulls out a manila envelope. “It’s all in there. Beau’s contract, demo of the album he’s working on now, everything.”
“You came prepared, Jimmy Don,” I laugh.
“He’s the best,” Beau pipes in admiringly. At least he recognizes that. Jimmy Don is not only an amazing agent but also a great guy. Beau is lucky to have him in his corner. I trust his judgment and that’s the only reason I’m even considering taking Beau on.
“I’m making no promises, but I’ll call a meeting with everyone today and look over everything and see if it makes sense for us.” I look at Beau pointedly. “You need to keep your behind outta trouble though. Think you can manage that?”
Legends ball cap pulled low, I can’t see his eyes, but I see the mischief in his grin. “We’ll see. I’m just so damn good at it,” he says, tipping his beer back.
I have a feeling that he and that smile are going to be the death of me in more ways than one.
Sugar is available now.
Read on to enjoy an excerpt of Swing by Adriana Locke