chapter 2

“Man, if I’d known it was gonna be that intense, I never would’ve asked you to stop by for a drink tonight,” J.T. said, leaning over the bar. “So you did ask me to come by ’cause you knew she was gonna be here. I thought you were my friend? You must have known she’s just about the last person I’d want to see.” “Yeah,” J.T. said, leaning back. “But I also knew she was probably the one person you needed to see the most. You two need to put what happened between you to rest so you can both move on with your lives. Livin’ with all this anger isn’t healthy, man.” “I moved on a long time ago,” Drake said, popping a pretzel in his mouth. “I’ve known you a long time,” J.T. said, bracing his hands on the bar. “And I’ve never seen you more miserable than you’ve been this past year.” “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Drake thought he’d been hiding it well. Apparently not. “I haven’t been wanting for female companionship, if that’s what you’re worried about.” People were starting to file in to the bar and a man claimed a stool several seats away from Drake. He gave the bartender his order before shooting a side-long glance at Drake. J.T. shook his head. “That’s not what I’m talkin’ about and you know it. Man, I used to be that guy. Hookin’ up with a different buckle bunny every night, dousing the loneliness in liquor, then I met Nik and everything changed for me. I didn’t wanna be that guy anymore. I wanted to be a better man ’cause she made me believe I could be.” “I like myself just fine, J.T.” “Really? You like the guy who said all those ugly things to a lady he once loved? Hell, I’ve known you a lot of years and I haven’t even heard you say shit like that to your worst enemy.” He leaned closer, looking Drake in the eye. “That’s the woman you used to **** **** to every night.”

That reminder felt like someone twisted the knife blade sticking out of his back. As if his mind would ever let him forget the intimacy they’d one shared. “That was before I knew what she was capable of.” “She made a mistake.” He smirked. “Granted, as far as mistakes go, that one pretty much tops the list, but we both know she’s a good girl.” Drake rolled his eyes. “She’s a junkie.” The word tasted foul, mainly because he’d never thought of her that way. He knew she’d had a terrible childhood and she was coping the only way she knew how. “She’s a recovering addict, same as she was when you asked her to be your wife, the mother of your children.” “Maybe I was naïve, but I thought she was capable of changing, getting her life together. That night I found her with my brother, I realized she’s never gonna change. Once an addict, always an addict.” J.T. threw his hands up in the air. “I can see I’m not gonna get through to you tonight. You want me to call you a cab?” “Nah, I’ll just call my driver. Thanks for the offer though.” J.T. offered his hand. “I hope you don’t think I over-stepped, tryin’ to bring you two together tonight. I was just hopin’ you’d be able to talk. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Drake accepted his friend’s hand. “No hard feelings. I know you were just trying to help.” “The drinks are on the house tonight,” J.T. said, smiling. “In that case…” Drake pointed to a bottle of eighteen-year-old scotch behind the bar. “Might as well haul out the good stuff.” J.T. chuckled. “Whatever you want, Roy can get it for you. I’m goin’ home to my beautiful wife.” Drake tried to ignore the pang of envy. “Give Nik a kiss for me.” “Will do. I’ll see ya around,” J.T. said, coming around the bar and slapping Drake on the back as he walked toward the door. The man who’d been sitting a few feet away from Drake moved closer. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend.” Drake brought his glass to his lips. “Then you weren’t trying hard enough.” The last thing he wanted was make small talk with some nosy stranger. He knew he should leave before Cassidy and her band took the stage, but there was a part of him that wanted to know if she still had it. The well-dressed, middle-aged man extended his hand. “Name’s Phil.” Drake glanced at the man’s outstretched hand a minute before he accepted it. “Drake.” “That’s what I thought,” he said, smiling. “You’re Cassidy’s ex.” Drake looked the stranger up and down, trying to ascertain whether he could be the man Cassidy referred to earlier. He looked too straight-laced to get involved with someone as colorful as Cassidy. “Who the hell are you?” He couldn’t keep the bite from his voice as he realized he was jealous. He didn’t want her anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted anyone else to have her either. “Let’s just say I’m a friend of hers.”

The way he said it made Drake want to knock him off that stool, but he held his temper, hoping to get more information about the nature of their relationship. He knew he shouldn’t care what she did or who she did it with, but logic often wasn’t a factor when his battered ego was calling the shots. “Define friend.” The man laughed, shaking his head. “I keep a roof over her head when I can and she helps me with… things.” Curling his hand around his glass, Drake muttered, “I’ll just bet she does.” He hated to think she’d stooped that low, trading the body he’d once worshipped for a roof over her head, but his conscience reminded him he’d given her little choice when he blacklisted her. Aside from J.T., everyone else who called themselves his friend or even an acquaintance hadn’t even batted an eye when he told them Cassidy was never gonna make it in this business. His word was usually the last word in Nashville music circles and he’d earned that respect the hard way. No way would anyone take the side of a wannabe country singer who hadn’t even cut a record over a producer who’d been the talent behind two hundred and thirty million in record sales in his illustrious career. “Things ended badly for you two, didn’t they?” Phil asked, bringing his soft drink to his lips. “You still seem angry… bitter. I don’t have to tell you it’s not healthy to live with so much resentment.” He could scarcely believe her new lover had the audacity to lecture him about bygones. He would never, ever forget what Cassidy had done to him. Relationships had never been easy for Drake. Being wealthy and powerful meant he always had to be on guard against women who just wanted to benefit from his hard work and reputation. He thought Cassidy was different. From the first time he met her, he’d sensed there was something about her… As she claimed the stage, his mind drifted back to the first night he’d seen her, standing right there, in the center of the same stage. She was singing about heartache, and he felt every word as though she was singing directly to him. He assumed she was. At first, he thought someone must’ve told her he was in the audience, watching her show, that this could be her big break to play with the heavy hitters if Drake saw something special in her. But when he approached her later and asked if he could buy her a drink, she seemed surprised, as though she had no idea he was there… watching her. “She’s something else, isn’t she?” Phil asked, propping his chin in his hand as he gazed at the stage and the gorgeous woman singing a heart-wrenching ballad Drake had never heard before. “I never get tired of listening to her. I remember the first time I heard her sing—” Drake held his hand up. “If you don’t mind, I just wanna watch the show.” The last thing he wanted was to hear about how the man at his side had developed a bond with the woman who used to share his bed. “Sure,” Phil said, shrugging. He looked at Drake intensely, as though he was trying to read his expression before he turned his attention back to the stage.

to be CONTINUED

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