After agreeing that each had turned out well, Jesse grew distant, turning noticeably colder than she’d been moments before. Eager to bring them back to neutral, Ash ventured into safer territory.

“Not a very big crowd tonight. I guess some people couldn’t make it on such short notice?”

Jesse leaned back and focused on the fire across the yard. “Other than Ryan, who’s on tour right now, everyone who matters is here.” Jesse stared down at her lap. “I’m sure when Taylor throws a party, she still packs them in, but that means she got stuck with the leeches. I’ll take my crew over hers any day.”

So his assumption had been correct. Jesse put up a good front, but she was hurting and that pissed him off. “What happened with Taylor? I get the feeling you didn’t see it coming.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I thought we were in it for the long haul—climbing to the top together, and then sailing into the Hall of Fame in two or three decades—but Taylor had other plans.” Tapping the side of her beer bottle, Jesse shook her head. “She had the nerve to tell me over the phone. ‘I’m calling it quits on the act and going on without you’ is something you should tell a person in person.”

“Yes, it is,” Ash agreed.

“Did you know that I’m the first person she met when she moved to town?” Jesse didn’t wait for an answer. “I introduced her around. I took her to songwriting sessions and pushed her on stage for her first open mic night. If it weren’t for me, she’d still be singing for tips on Broadway.”

The anger was more than justified, but they needed to channel all that emotion into something more productive than a rant.

“Write it down,” he said, shifting through melodies in his head. “Channel your inner Loretta and put that into a song.”

Blue eyes blinked his way. “Bitching to you is one thing. Telling the whole world that I’m still pissed is another. I’d rather people think that I’m over it.”

Since when did Jesse Rheingold pull her punches? “Songs connect with fans when they’re authentic. You don’t need to call her names or even aim the song directly at her. Write it like you’re talking to a guy who did you wrong. Tell him exactly where he can stick it, and we’ll have your first number one hit.”

Jesse’s jaw worked as she contemplated the idea. “I don’t know,” she said, clearly conflicted. “I want this album to be distinctly me, but I want it to sell, too. Whatever we put together needs to be radio and fan-friendly. Coming out as the bitter dumpee isn’t the first impression I want to give.”

Ash was happy to hear she’d put some thought into the record, but this sounded dangerously close to overthinking.

“Let’s break it down,” he said. “The only thing this album has to do is reflect the best music you can make right now. That’s all. Record songs that speak to you, and the rest will take care of itself.”

For a moment she only stared at him, and then uttered exactly what she thought of his advice. “That’s bull.”

Not an encouraging response. If they were going to make this work, he’d have to cure Jesse of a few delusions.

“You think you can crank out a record following some radio formula that has nothing to do with who you are?”

“I think I need to craft an album that country music fans want to listen to because if I don’t, I might as well pack my bags and head back to Georgia right now.”

Ash dug deep for patience. “So authentic doesn’t translate to the fans, is that it?”

“Authentic me, maybe not.”

Now she wasn’t making any sense. “What’s wrong with authentic you?”

Jesse lowered her voice and lifted the bottle halfway to her lips. “If I knew that, there’d be more people here, now wouldn’t there?”

Well, shit. The break with Taylor had done the impossible—put a ding in Jesse’s once-undingable confidence. This was the girl who’d belted out a Johnny Cash song in a fifth-grade talent show despite being told the song wasn’t age-appropriate. And she’d blown the room away. She was also the woman who’d written the majority of songs on the Honkytonk Daisies only studio album, which had climbed into the top twenty on several charts.

Desperation and doubts were a lethal combination in this town, and more than one hopeful had learned that lesson the hard way. If Jesse didn’t get her confidence back, she’d suffer the same fate. And take Ash down with her.

How could she let her cover slip like that? Especially with Ash.

So Jesse sucked at making friends. So what. She’d long ago accepted the fact that her core circle would be small but tight. Even as a kid, she’d struggled to connect with her peers. Especially the other girls. She could toss a football with the guys. Or shoot some hoops, holding her own despite her size. But fitting in with the girls had never come naturally.

That didn’t mean there was anything wrong with her.

When the Daisies took off, everyone wanted to be her friend. The parties were crowded, the texts were flying, and Jesse had finally found her tribe. Until Taylor defected and took the tribe with her.

Annoyed with her wayward thoughts, Jesse felt a sudden urge to talk to the one person who liked her for exactly who she was. And right now, she needed to hear his voice.

“Excuse me,” she said to Ash, exiting her chair and crossing to the wooden swing in the back corner of the yard. By the time her butt hit the seat, she’d dialed Ryan’s number. On the fifth ring, someone answered, but the voice on the other end wasn’t the one she expected.

“Hello?” a woman squeaked, lips smacking as if she was chewing gum.

“Who is this?” Jesse asked.

“Who are you?” the woman replied.

Laughter erupted in the background, and Jesse recognized the booming voice of Paul Rigley, the drummer of Flesh and Blood.

“Where’s Ryan?” Jesse snapped.

“Ryan is… busy. Who is this again?”

“This is Ryan’s girlfriend. Jesse Gold.”

“Jesse who?”

Before she could answer, the voice on the phone changed.

“Hey, Jess,” Paul said. “Sorry about that. We’re, uh, having the bus cleaned, and Britney picked up the phone by mistake.” Right. Having the bus cleaned an hour before showtime. Totally believable. “Ryan is grabbing a quick shower,” Paul continued, “but I’ll have him call you when he gets out.”

A tiny voice in Jesse’s brain whispered, he’s lying, but she ignored it, as she had many times before.

“Sounds like a big cleaning crew,” she said as female laughter nearly drowned out the drummer’s voice.

Paul shushed the gathering. “Davie is making ’em laugh. You know how he loves to entertain.”

Yes, Jesse knew how the guitarist liked to entertain. When she’d first moved in with Ryan, Davie Juniper had also lived in the house. In the one month the band had been off the road, Jesse had encountered more than a dozen women in various states of undress while fetching her morning coffee. Disgustingly, she never saw the same woman twice.

“Shouldn’t you guys be getting ready for the show?” Jesse had taken on the mothering role with the band, though she doubted they appreciated her efforts. All of them were ridiculously talented, and she hated to watch them waste the gifts they’d been given. She also knew how quickly a good situation could go south. Despite their frat boy ways, she liked the guys as a whole and wanted them to succeed.

“Yes, ma’am.” The ma’am part amused her since Paul was eight years older than she was. “We’re on it,” he said. “I’ll tell Ryan you called.”

The line went dead, and Jesse forced herself not to picture the real scenario she’d just interrupted. Eyes shut tight, she tilted her head back and exhaled.

“You okay?” Ash asked, startling her.

“I’m fine,” she lied. Something she’d been doing a lot lately. Fake it ‘til you make it had become her new motto. “Is the munchkin gone?” She’d spotted Angelica’s mom step through the gate while on her call.

“Yeah. She’s a sweet kid.”

“You wouldn’t call her sweet if you heard some of the things that come out of her mouth.” The sassy, off-the-cuff nature was what Jesse liked most about Angelica.

Ash grinned. “I got a hint of that when she greeted me at the door.”

This should be good. “What did she say?”

Hesitating, he sighed. “Mind if I sit?”

The swing wasn’t big, but there was room for two. If the two didn’t mind being cozy. Jesse scooted over, bracing herself for the forced intimacy. “I don’t mind.”

The biggest lie she’d told this evening.

Chains rattled as he settled in, his thigh firm and warm, pressing against hers. Ignoring the heat penetrating her jeans, she crossed her legs to put whatever distance possible between them.

“So what did the little firecracker say?” Jesse asked, desperate for a distraction.

“She asked if I was your boyfriend.” Ash looked up and bounced as if testing the chains. “When I said no, she said that was good because she heard your boyfriend is an asshole.”

Jesse knew where that little nugget had come from. Ryan was the only bone of contention between her and Dana. “Ryan is not an asshole,” she replied, defending him out of habit.

Ash didn’t share an opinion either way. “Is he good to you?”

“He is.” Which was the truth. When they were together, Ryan was caring and affectionate, said all the right things that made her feel special and loved. The times they were apart were an issue, but Jesse wasn’t about to discuss her misgivings with Ash. She’d already revealed one weakness this evening. She would not reveal another.

“If that ever changes, let me know, and I’ll have a word with him.”

She turned to see his face. “Are you serious right now?”

“What?” He had the nerve to look confused.

“My personal life is none of your business. Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Ten years of nothing and now you want to play protector,” she mumbled. “I don’t need your protection.”

“Jesse, I told you—”

“You weren’t there when I needed you, and I managed just fine on my own.”

He tensed beside her. “If you’d have called, I would have been there.”

She’d wanted to call him. She’d even tried to call at one point, sneaking behind her mother’s back because she didn’t want to hear the crap about how he’d taken their favorite child. A stranger had answered the call and claimed she didn’t know anyone named Ash.

Shaking off the memory, Jesse slid off the swing. “You changed your number, remember? So don’t put that on me.”

He rose, too, towering above her. “I gave Enid my new number as soon as I got it. I didn’t expect anyone to use it, but I gave it to her anyway, so you’d have it.”

Good old Enid strikes again. Why couldn’t she have gotten nice parents? A doting couple who cared as much about kid two as kid one. Jesse knew the answer to that one. Enid had lost three babies before finally carrying Tommy to term. He was her miracle baby. Four months after he was born, she’d gotten pregnant with Jesse and had a trouble-free pregnancy all the way through.

In some twisted way, the ease with which she’d come to be had made Jesse less special in her mother’s eyes.

“She never shared that number with me.” Tired of wading through ancient history, she returned to the original subject. “Ryan is a good guy, and he’s good to me. So thanks for the delayed offer, but I don’t need your help anymore.”

Sadness etched in the lines around his mouth. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

So was she.

“I should probably go.” Ash slid his hands into his pockets. “We didn’t get to talk about the album much. Are you busy tomorrow?”

Ignoring the instinct to lie, Jesse said, “Other than working on some songs, I’m free.”

He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to text you an address. Meet me there at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Eight?” she exclaimed. Who went anywhere at eight on a Saturday morning?

“Yeah, eight.” When he lowered his phone, Jesse’s dinged. “I have some friends I want you to meet.”

If this hadn’t been work-related, she’d have said forget it and stayed in bed, but Ash’s friends were heavy hitters in the business, and those were the kinds of friends Jesse needed.

She checked the message in her phone and found an unfamiliar address. “What is this place?”

“You’ll see.” Leveling her with the grin that knocked her off-kilter, Ash leaned in close. “You’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met, Jesse. Don’t forget that.”

An odd note to leave on, and an exaggeration considering with whom he’d worked, but Jesse accepted the compliment anyway. “Thanks.”

He strolled off and said his goodbyes to the rest of the group before giving her a wave from the sliding glass doors. Ingrid then followed him inside to show him out. Still holding her phone, Jesse dropped back onto the swing and looked up the address for her morning destination—a recreation center.

Must be a place where songwriters met up to write. Or a rehearsal space. Having a sizable room to set up and actually work out the songs before hitting the studio was a better idea than sitting around some boring conference room.

Convinced she’d solved the mystery, Jesse rejoined the party and forced herself not to think about cleaning ladies named Britney and what she and her friends were likely cleaning. She also told herself not to think about Ash and the look in his eyes when she’d said she didn’t need him anymore. The first task turned out to be easier than the second.