Besides, her number one fan was… gone. No one understood her love for music, except her father. He had even showed her his photos when he played in a band in college. Then he met her mother, and he put his dream on the shelf.
Dreams didn’t pay the bills, and those who made it had courage and persevered. Bailey didn’t love music that much. Did she? Her father didn't since he gave it up. Once reality set in, he must have taken responsibility for his family.
Reality too set in for Bailey. Her first and last performance was in middle school. She panicked and choked. The laughs of the kids had rang in her ears like blasts of trumpets blown in wars.
It was for the best since her mother didn’t approve. Strange how her mother didn’t care much for music. Why did the music only play louder in her mind? So, Bailey settled for the open mic nights and her personal playlist.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.
Bailey shook her head. “No, thanks.”
The waitress nodded and walked away. Bailey checked her watch. She had an early client at the salon in the morning and needed to leave. She sipped the last of her drink and left a cash tip on the table. Turning her back on the music meant so much more than leaving the table. So much more.
****
Jackson Mills’ foot tapped underneath the table. Spices and hot peppers filled the air of the Italian restaurant. He hummed to the music that played in the background, believing it would relieve the tightness in his chest. At first he thought online dating was a good idea, but sitting across from a woman whose mouth wrinkled at the mention of his profession as a musician… a bad idea. He wasn’t rolling in the millions with a record contract, but restaurants even booked his keyboard skills during the holidays for live music.
“So... you actually don’t have a real job?” she asked.
His pulse quickened. He scratched at his beard. “I said I’m a musician.”
“You have a record deal?”
“Not yet.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t see how you can make a living without a record deal. You’re not expecting me to pay for dinner, are you?” The woman flipped her blonde hair.
He forced a smile. “I’m a gentleman.”
The woman inspected her long fingernails. “So, anyway. I have one more semester before I get my graduate degree. Dating is hard nowadays. Besides, I don’t think a woman with goals and dreams should intimidate a real man.”
“No, but I think—”
She waved away his response. “Seriously, it’s not the 1950s. Women have come up in the world and a real man should respect that.”
Hair stiffened on the base of Jackson’s neck. He didn’t mind an independent woman. A woman pursuing her dreams attracted him. Why wasn’t this date going well? He huffed a breath. His date wasn’t listening to him. It had been about an hour. He tried his best to listen, but couldn’t she let him talk?
Jackson poked his tongue into his cheek and inhaled a long breath. “I think maybe—”
“I’m not done.” The woman’s expression looked pinched. “If a man’s willing to do that, we can talk.” She sipped from her water glass. “So, what’s next after dinner?”
Jackson grabbed his wallet from his pocket and took out cash for the meal. This wouldn’t work. No sense in forcing it. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. Nice meeting you.”
“That’s it?” the woman asked. “You’re leaving? What about dessert?”
“I wish you the best. Goodnight.” As he exited the restaurant, he saw the neon signs of nearby stores. He breathed in the crisp air as he walked to his royal blue Chevrolet Camaro. The remote of his car beeped, and he slid into the driver’s seat.
Turning on the radio, Christmas music played through his speakers. He bobbed his head as he pulled out the parking lot. Where would he go?
He made a U-turn and drove to one of his favorite places. He needed to play, and Mac didn’t mind him playing on open mic nights. Jackson tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
Fifteen more days. Once his month was up, he would delete the app. Why did he let his sister persuade him to give online dating a try? He hadn’t been in a serious relationship in a year. Robin, his ex-girlfriend, didn’t support his life as a musician. She didn’t listen and refused to understand him. So, he broke up with her.
Pulling into the parking lot of Mac’s Nightclub and Lounge, Jackson parked and cut the engine of his car. He checked the time on his phone, only to lift his eyes and see a woman in a dark coat walking outside the club. She wrapped her scarf around her neck.
The lights from the building and parking lot radiated off her face. She was like a vision of the morning air. Then she tucked her curls underneath her hat. Jackson’s lips parted as his eyes followed her to her car. Shaking his head, he exited his car and walked inside the lounge. He needed to clear his head for the night. He needed music, not a woman.
****