Daddy's Reluctant Little (Wounded Daddies 3)

“Right now,” she said. We hung up and I thought about this beautiful, talented girl. On the video, her song was mournful, but her demeanor when not singing was happy and confident. Now, she seemed emotionally drained and I hoped against hope she would really call me throughout the trip. I also felt glimmers of hope for something else, something about which I really had no business hoping.

What would a girl like that want with a man like me?

I sat in my office for a while and then called in Leo Franklin. He was my right-hand man. In some ways he was like me, a Daddy without a little girl. Other than that, his strengths at the club complemented my weaknesses and the reverse was also true.

“Can you get a crew to clean up? That singer I told you about? She’s coming.”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s great. The numbers aren’t horrible, but they’re down from last year.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Can you take care of that for me?”

“The whole thing?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He nodded and I busied myself with anything to keep busy. She called, and then called again later when she stopped at a motel. She let me know she was going to order a pizza and it sounded almost like she was expecting me to tell her she couldn’t. The idea that she was a natural Little wouldn’t go away. She called right before she went to bed, and I thought that was wonderful. She called when she woke up, and she called all along the way.

Then she was there at the club, and I already felt as if I knew her. She was better looking in person than on the video and she was incredible on the video.

“Welcome to the Playground,” I said. “I’m Carl.” I asked her to come in and said we’d get her some food and something to drink.

She looked at me with a smile and said, “Is anyone playing tonight?” When I shook my head, she said, “Can I play? It… It helps me not feel so stressed.”

I smiled and nodded. “We’ll worry about feeding you and getting you settled later then.”

“When do your acts go on stage?” she asked.

“A half hour ago,” I said.

Her eyes widened and she rushed to her car. She came back with a guitar case and I led her into the cub. I walked her toward the stage, motioning for Leo to bring the sound live from the console behind the bar.

I walked on stage and said, “I have a special treat for you all tonight. This is Rollie Carter, and if you show her some love, maybe she’ll stay and play for us regularly.”

It all felt surreal and I turned to look at her. She was bent over right in front of me, opening her guitar case. The sight of her body in her jeans was breathtaking. I looked away and a moment later, she sat down with her guitar. It was acoustic, with no plug in for an amplifier so I got a second mic and positioned it in front of the guitar.

‘Special treat’ didn’t even begin to describe the Heaven she brought to the place.