“Don’t be mad, Shelby,” Dawson says, “but I passed Logan outside and gave him the news.”
“Why would I be mad?” I stop my frantic happy dance and pluck the magazine out of his hands. “I was saving this to send to my momma.”
“Where we at?” Dawson asks in his let’s get to work voice.
We instantly slip into professional mode and show him the list of tracks we’ve come up with. Dawson offers his opinions and advice but has made it clear all the final decisions are mine. Mine. It’s both exciting and terrifying to have that much control.
“Have you heard from Trent?” Dawson asks. “He coming in to help with the recording?”
Ouch, that’s a sore spot.
Trent’s been touchy since the awards show. He seemed to blame me for White Knight winning an award instead of Big Lies—which would have earned him an award as well. As if I have any control over how the categories are structured or how the winners are chosen. Like I wouldn’t have loved to win both categories for my own selfish reasons?
Other than acknowledging him in my acceptance speech and the royalty split he’s receiving from White Knight, I’m not sure what else he wants.
Once he found out I was writing with Angelina, he stopped answering my texts and emails, and ignored every attempt I made to include him in the process. Dawson tried to arrange studio time for Trent in San Antonio but he blew it off, which was frankly kinda embarrassing.
“I don’t think so,” I finally answer.
Dawson drops into one of the chairs and props his boots up on the desk. “I know you don’t want to hear this but I think it’s time we put out feelers for studio musicians.” His gaze slides to Angelina.
She lifts her hands in a ‘stop right there’ gesture. “My dad’s the guitar genius. I play enough to help me write and I can tap out some scales on the piano but I’m not a professional.” She shoots me a look. “I enjoy the behind-the-scenes writing stuff but I don’t want any piece of the spotlight.” She waggles her fingers toward the door.
“I’ll try reaching out to Trent again.” I don’t want to betray him. He’s been a big part of my musical journey so far, but I also can’t afford to slow down my career to massage his bruised ego.
“You know where I stand on this, Shelby,” Angelina says. “If he’s going to pout and act like a big manbaby because things are coming together for you, then he wasn’t your friend to begin with.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she’s right.
“Ouch.” Dawson whistles.
“Well, it’s true,” Angelina fires back. “He’s not the one who went on Redneck Roadhouse and got raked over the coals. She is. I’m not saying he’s not a talented songwriter or guitar player in his own right but she’s the star.” Angelina rests her hands on her hips and turns toward Dawson. “Did you hire her to be your opening act because you thought Shelby was talented and would bring in a newer, younger audience for you? Or did you do it because Trent was her guitar player?”
Lordy, I love that she has the balls to say stuff I can’t even articulate sometimes.
Dawson rolls his bottom lip. “I didn’t know who Trent was until the tour,” he answers honestly.
“Right.” Angelina turns toward me. “Reach out to him again.”
“I will.”
“But be prepared to let him go.” She flashes a sympathetic smile. “You can’t give someone more loyalty than they’re willing to return.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Shelby
“On the road again…” I sing over and over all the way to the RV and back inside the house.
“Songbird, you have to learn the rest of the lyrics to that song,” Jiggy says.
“But then it wouldn’t be as much fun.” I bop his nose as I pass by.
He laughs and follows me into the kitchen. “You know, the last woman who touched me so casually was never seen or heard from again.”
“Are you threatening my girlfriend?” Rooster asks.
“Noooo.” Jiggy grins at me.
“Knock, knock,” Dawson calls out.
“We’re in the kitchen!” I shout.
“You guys about to roll out?” Dawson asks.
“Yup. All the linens and stuff are in the wash.” I point upstairs.
“Shelby.” He sighs. “I have people who do that.”
I shrug.
“I’ll miss having you guys here.” He nods at me. “Well, you’ll be back in a few weeks. You comin’ with her, Logan?”
“We’ll see,” Rooster answers.
Dang. I promised I’d move to New York with him and I’m already making plans to return to Tennessee.
Jiggy turns and walks out of the kitchen.
“You need help with anything?” Dawson asks.
“Sure.” Rooster points to a few boxes and they head outside with them.
My phone vibrates and I check the screen.
Trent: Your new song’s already getting buzz.
Apprehension swirls in my stomach. Somehow I don’t think he’s writing to congratulate me.