My UnTrue Love (A Kinda Fairytale #7)

Chapter Eleven

A tri-faced figure dressed in plaid,

Each with powers cast,

Magic surged and all three had,

Spells within their grasp.

Lyrics from the folk song “Crossroads Coyote”

Johnny walked into the Lone Prairie and instantly spotted Clementine. She was sitting at the bar, on one of the wooden barrels that management used as stools. A mason jar full of lemonade was sitting by her elbow, as she worked on a stack of papers.

“Hey, Clem. I heard you were hanging out in this dump.” Johnny glanced around the rustic interior. “I hope you had your tetanus shots.”

Clementine took a fortifying breath at the sight of him. “Hi, Johnny.”

“ You look great, though.” He enthused, heading her way. The words were rote. He said them to just about everybody, no matter how hideous. With her, though, he realized he actually meant them. She looked almost pretty, this afternoon. Like she’d taken special care with her outfit. Maybe she’d sensed he’d be dropping by.

“Thanks.” Clementine smiled. …But it wasn’t a wholehearted smile. Not like she’d used to give him, back when they’d been kids.

When had she last smiled at him that way?

A part of him, way down deep, wondered if it had been years ago. In college, just before the big Homecoming celebration. Clementine had been talking about the dress she’d bought for the party, and he’d casually mentioned that he’d invited Mamie O’Rourke.

Mamie was wealthy, and elegant, and the daughter of Lon “Ranger” O’Rourke, the legendary host of Home on the Range. Plus, Mamie could suck the chrome off a six-shooter. She might’ve been born into money, but she was a slut like most other girls in town. Clem was too sweet to even think of all the nasty things Mamie had been eager to do.

Johnny’s decision to take Mamie to the dance made perfect sense. She’d screwed up in the end and hadn’t convinced her dad to give Johnny a slot on the musical variety show, but that wasn’t Johnny’s fault. His audition for Ranger had been perfect! Everybody knew it.

After the Homecoming debacle, though, Clem’s smile had dimmed for him. Not all at once, but slowly cooling, degree by degree, until her eyes were no longer bright as diamonds, sparkling like the dew.

She’d expected him to take her to the celebration. They’d gone to all the high school dances together. It wasn’t like Johnny had much of a choice of dates. Things had been different in college, though. He’d suddenly had opportunities with popular girls. Clementine got that. She didn’t nag or complain when he picked classier women and spent most of his time with his faster friends.

…But, she also didn’t smile at him quite the same way, as before. That way-down-deep part of him had noticed it, but the rest of Johnny had just been grateful that she wasn’t quite so exuberant with her emotions. Muses could be a little tacky. Everybody knew it.

In retrospect, though, that wholehearted enthusiasm hadn’t been so bad. He liked how clean and open Clementine was. They should spend more time together, so she’d remember how close they really were. That would get her back to acting how he wanted.

Clem watched him approach, her expression only a fraction as welcoming as it once was. “Did you need something?”

“What, like I can’t just stop by and say ‘hi’ to my oldest friend?” Johnny set the laptop on the bar next to Clementine and presented her with the full-force of his best angle. He had an exceptional profile. It’s why he’d insisted it be the cover of the album. “Plus, I have something for you to listen to.”

“Oh.”

Johnny kept talking, waiting for her enthusiasm to grow. “It’s the tune the band’s been working on. Way more sophisticated than our old stuff. I wanted you to be the first to hear it.”

“I appreciate that, but maybe I could hear it later?”

“Why? I came all the way down here, now .” She still didn’t seem eager to hear the song, which was weird. You’d think she’d be thrilled that he wanted to include her in the process. You’d think she’d be honored that he respected her so much. “We said we’d still work together, remember?”

“ You said that, Johnny. Not me. I’m working on something else, right now.”

He blinked, offended by her attitude. “Clem, this can’t wait. The album needs to be done yesterday .”

Her gaze flicked towards the clock on the wall. “I understand, but I have an appointment with another musician. Someone very important.”

He was shocked. Genuinely shocked. She was working with someone else? Already? Betrayal swirled inside of him. How could she just move on with another musician so fast? “More important than me? ”

Clementine didn’t rush to reassure him that he was always and forever her number one priority. “I’m sorry, but I’m meeting him in five minutes.”

“Well, the song’s only three minutes.” Johnny pushed play with more force than necessary. “Take a listen.” He handed her the headphones.

Clementine reluctantly accepted them. “I just can’t focus on this, right now.”

“Come on. It’s three minutes . I’m not asking a lot.”

Clem restlessly swept her wild hair behind her ears and put on the headphones. The song started and he watched her closely. Gauging her reaction.

He’d had no idea how much he relied on her feedback until she was gone. Losing it bugged him. Why hadn’t she considered his creative process, before she left? Why hadn’t she warned him how tough it would be for him? Without inspiration, Johnny was wasting hours of his time, working and reworking the same piece. It was too hard!

Clem didn’t say anything, but he could see her tuning into the music. Her head moved as she tracked the notes. She closed her eyes, listening closely. Processing the lyrics. For precisely thirty-eight seconds, it was like old times. Johnny felt a surge of satisfaction.

Then, Pecos Bill walked into the saloon.

The moment he entered, the coyote’s easy stride faltered. His head whipped around, pinning Johnny with those spooky blue eyes. It was like Bill smelled an intruder in his den. Something feral glowed in his gaze. The animal inside of him reacting to a threat. He changed direction, prowling right for the bar.

Johnny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Bill stopped directly in front of him, his head canting to one side. “Howdy, John.” He said very quietly.

“Bill.” Johnny refused to show his sudden fear. “Why are you here?”

“Because Clem’s here.”

Johnny’s frown deepened, not liking that simple answer. Bill acted like Clementine was his, when Johnny had been the one who’d known her forever. Nothing she felt for the coyote could compare to her bond with Johnny. Everybody knew it.

“Rosalee tells me you’ve been posting shit online.” Johnny hadn’t bothered to check into what exactly, because he was an artist, not some boring PR guy. He hired people to handle all his social media stuff. “You should be more professional, you know? Clem’s big on positive fan interactions.”

“She seemed pretty positive about mine, back at our apartment.”

Johnny bristled at the reminder that this dickhead was now Clem’s roommate. “Look, Clementine and I are having a private meeting. Why don’t I have her call you when we’re done?”

The thieving cowboy didn’t take a hint. Clementine’s eyes were still closed, the song blaring in her ears. She always got lost in music.

Bill adjusted his body, so he was right next to her. He reached over, drawing her attention. His fingers traced over her skin, like he had every right to put his hands on her. Like Clem was just some whore he could fondle. His calloused thumb slowly dragged along the delicate flesh of her inner wrist. Somehow, the caress seemed much more intimate than it actually was.

Johnny hated that.

Clementine’s eyes popped open, already knowing who’d touched her. Her smile was full of sunshine, when it shone on Bill. Glowing with tacky exuberance and her whole heart.

Johnny really hated that.

“Right on time!” She exclaimed, the headphones making her talk too loudly. “And in a blue shirt, too. Wow, navy looks great on you. Aren’t you glad you listened to me?”

“Always, darlin’.” Bill rested his other palm on the counter behind her. His arm was now wrapped around Clem, even though they weren’t touching. How did she not see how inappropriate that was?

“What? Oh! Hang on.” Clementine paused the music, as if it was no big deal and it didn’t mess up the flow. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Johnny wanted me to listen to his new song.” She leaned closer to Bill and lowered her voice. “I think he’s having some problems with it.”

“No, I’m not!” Johnny protested, even though… yes, he was.

Bill made a “huh” sound, his gaze on the computer screen. Without asking, he reached over and restarted the tune, unplugging the headphones so he could hear it too.

Johnny really, really hated that.

This time through, it was like every flaw was magnified. All the stuff Johnny knew wasn’t working was seriously not working. The second verse was somehow off, and the intro was too long and none of the backup musicians were in key. Johnny sounded great. Of course he did. But the production was definitely letting him down.

Clementine was quiet, as the song finished. Her eyes flicked up to Bill.

“Huh.” Bill said mildly.

Clementine nodded, as if she’d expected him to say exactly that. “Maybe if he added some strings to the bridge?” She offered. “Fiddles are so underappreciated.”

Bill lifted one shoulder, like he’d heard worse ideas.

“And the lyrics could be smoother in the second verse.”

Bill gave a thoughtful grunt.

“The guitar part needs to be redone, for sure. No one could make that kind of arrangement work, except you.”

Bill made a modest face. “Nah, I couldn’t have salvaged that mess.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could’ve. You have such a flawless talent. It pushes through everything.”

Bill seemed touched.

“Overall, though…?” She trailed off.

Bill nodded in grave agreement.

Clementine cleared her throat and looked back at Johnny. “This song isn’t a hit.” She told him, summing up their inarticulate analysis. “It’s got no passion.”

“No passion?” He repeated, stunned by her blunt analysis. Clementine had never told him something like that before. She always liked his music. “What does that mean?”

“It’s got no,” she shrugged expansively, “ ka-pow! You know? Nothing that makes it special. Nothing that transports you, or touches you, or resonates with real honesty. And beauty. And life.”

“No ka-pow .” Bill chimed in.

“Exactly.” Clementine beamed, as if Bill was incredibly insightful.

“Rosalee says it’s the best song I ever wrote.” Johnny snapped, shaken and on the defensive.

Bill smirked without moving his lips.

“You’re not just singing it?” Clementine seemed confused. “You wrote this?”

“Of course I wrote it!”

“Um…” She still looked surprised. “Well, the introduction has some very nice moments. It’s slightly too long, but…”

“Why did you think someone else wrote it?” He interrupted.

“Um…” Clementine glanced up at Bill again, as if he might be able to sugarcoat the answer.

Bill adopted an oh-so-serious expression. “It’s got a lot of potential, John.”

Clem seized onto that platitude, missing the coyote’s mocking glee. “Yes! So much potential. You’re onto something very… unusual.”

“It’s sophisticated! ” Johnny snapped. “Maybe you’re just not getting that, because you’re not used to it. Listen again.”

“Oh, I don’t think hearing it more’ll help none.” Bill lamented.

“Please don’t misunderstand.” Clem could obviously tell Johnny was upset and wanted to soothe him. (Which was how any girl should be.) “I see how you said you were going for a new audience with that sound. It’s very new.”

“Sophisticated.” Bill added without a drop of sincerity.

“You’ll get there, Johnny. You just need to find some genuine passion.” Clem perked up for all the wrong reasons. “Bill has massive amounts of passion. It’s one of his greatest assets as an artist. Do you want to brainstorm some ideas with him?”

Bill couldn’t have looked more helpful.

“Why did you think someone else wrote this song?” Johnny repeated through his teeth, not willing to let it go.

She chewed her lower lip. “Honestly? It just doesn’t sound like your work. You usually have so much more to say in your lyrics. This one is… kind of… just there .” Clementine reached for a peanut, as if she was uncomfortable and wanted to do something with her hands.

“Salt.” Bill reminded her.

The coyote paid more attention to Clementine’s health than she did. Johnny had noticed that before. Bill would monitor her salt intake to the teeny-tiniest grain, ensure she took her pills on time, and hover over her whenever she seemed to be stressed. The medical-magic complications that affected her weren’t that big a deal, but the coyote thought he was a damn witch-practitioner.

She made a face at Bill and dropped the peanut back into the bowl. “I’ll just eat it when you’re not around.”

“Oh, I’m always lurking about someplace.” Bill brushed one of her unruly curls back from her cheek. “Ready, darlin’? We got stuff to do.”

Johnny flashed him a hate-filled look. “ You’re the ‘artist’ she’s working with?” Ah-ha! Now he got the coyote’s game. Bill was trying to steal Clem away to further his career. “She works with me . It’s always been Johnny and Clementine.”

“Until you fired her.” Bill reminded him with casual finality.

Johnny shook his head, because that wasn’t at all how it had gone. “Clem just transitioned into an advisory role, outside the day-to-day grind of the band. We both thought it was for the best. She’s still going to help me with my new songs.”

“I don’t have time, Johnny. Bill has a show tonight.”

“Bill’s playing here?” Johnny looked around the seedy interior of the Lone Prairie and sniffed. “Yeah, this seems about his level. Dinah wouldn’t let him near the stage at The Kitchen, I assume.”

Clem’s lips flattened into a line, which confirmed Johnny’s guess. That old woman had better taste than he’d thought.

“ I’m playing a set at The Kitchen tonight.” He bragged.

“Break a leg.” Clementine said in an uncharacteristically snarky tone. “I literally mean that.”

Bill chuckled.

His amusement knocked the irritation from her face. “This place is a stepping stone. Bill is just getting started as a professional musician.” She sent him a fond look. “So far, it’s going great.”

“ So great.” Bill agreed, his evil eyes on Johnny. “That’s why I signed her to a private representation deal. Just Clementine… and Bill.”

Johnny felt himself pale. “What?”

“She’s my new manager. I thought I’d better scoop her up, while she was between jobs.” Bill lounged there, arrogance personified. “We’re a great team.”

Johnny’s teeth ground together.

“Bill requires my total focus.” Clementine explained, like her crazy decision made sense.

“I’m just a mess of nerves, so I take up all her time.” Bill gloated, still not in a way Clementine would ever notice, but Johnny saw it clear as day. “You’ll be okay, though, John. No worries. You’ve got Rosalee to inspire you, now.”

Johnny felt rage blinding him. Clementine couldn’t just abandon him! What was she thinking? “Clem, do you really not see what’s happening here?”

She blinked behind her glasses, her eyes as innocent as a baby unicorn. “Happening where?”

“He’s using you!” Johnny shouted, gesturing towards Bill. “This is all an act! ”

Bill and Clementine exchanged a sideways look, having one of their silent conversations. This one was pretty easy to read.

Clementine rolled her gaze towards the ceiling, insinuating Johnny was acting crazy.

Bill pretended to look sad for Johnny’s deteriorating mental faculties.

Clementine sighed and nodded, impressed with his endless compassion.

Bill lifted one shoulder in a self-effacing shrug and somehow shifted even closer to her body. Malevolent blue eyes flicked over her generous curves with a disgusting amount of ownership.

Did no one else notice this shit?

“He’s lying to you!” Johnny insisted.

“You’re back on that silliness? Really?”

“I’m still on it, because he’s still lying!”

“What do you think he’s lying about this time?” Clementine asked in a humoring tone.

“About…” Johnny floundered. Fuck. What had Bill actually lied about? What definite, provable lies could he list?

Johnny wracked his memories and only came up with a whole lot of times the bastard said something true, but he didn’t really mean it. Bill would dip his words in some kind of liars’ brew, so you knew he was lying even as he told you something honest. It was a sleight of hand trick that Johnny couldn’t fully explain. He just knew it was happening.

Bill waited for Johnny’s answer, hidden amusement dancing in his wicked brain.

Clementine’s fingertips drummed on the bar, disbelief all over her face.

“He’s a coyote!” Johnny yelled, frustrated and furious. “What else do you need to know about the guy?”

Clementine literally gasped in outrage.

Bill’s smile broke free, as if Johnny had just screwed up beyond imagining and he was delighted to watch the fallout.

Johnny knew he was digging himself into a hole, but what was he supposed to do? Just let the bastard get away with everything? Let him win? “His kind are Bad!” He waved a hand at Bill. “How can you not see it, Clem?”

Clementine was on her feet, now. “That’s enough! Your bigotry against coyotes is shocking to me! What’s happened to you? I never thought you’d be so small.”

“I’m not a bigot!” Johnny seethed. “Coyotes are just untrustworthy. Everyone knows it but you, Clem!”

“That’s ridiculous. I trust Bill more than anyone in the world.”

Johnny was staggered by that insult. “You trust a coyote over me? ” She’d always trusted Johnny over everybody. The entire world shifted beneath his feet. “You can’t possibly mean this!”

“I do mean it. I would believe him over you, if you told me the sky was blue and he told me it was a freaking Christmas tree!” She pointed towards the door. “Leave! I won’t have you upsetting Bill before his rehearsal.”

Bill didn’t look upset. He looked downright enraptured by Clem’s impassioned defense. The new Deer & Antelope play at the local theater couldn’t have held his interest to a greater degree.

“He doesn’t need you as a manager, Clem.” She’d been brainwashed. If Johnny could just get through to her, everything would go back to normal. “This town is full of real managers and Bill’s somewhat talented. I hate the guy and even I can see that.”

She lifted a hand in dismay. “I wish you could get past your resentment. Bill is the sweetest, kindest, most honest man…”

Johnny cut her off. “You’re a muse with connections all over town. That’s why he’s with you! He’s trying to take you from me, because we’re incredibly successful together. He thinks you can do the same thing for him. Why else would he want you around?”

Clementine flinched.

Bill instantly lost his facade of affability. It vanished between one blink and the next. “I’m not ‘trying’ to take her from you. I have taken her.” The words were as unyielding as an anvil. “It’s done. ”

“She’s not yours! She’ll never be yours. You can’t keep her.”

“Come stop me.” Bill straightened away from the bar. “We’ll fucking finish this outside, the way I should’ve months ago.” He jabbed a finger at Johnny. “First time I saw you near her, I knew it’d come to me and you in the street. All or nothin’.”

Bill was one of the few men in town who never carried a gun and holster, so Johnny didn’t have to worry about a shootout. It just went to show what a wannabe Bill was. Even Johnny owned a gun and holster. He only wore it with certain outfits to look cool, but then he wasn’t pretending to be an actual cowboy. Not like Bill, with his stupid hat and slow drawl.

Still, the coyote’s lack of firearm didn’t do much to ease his mind, since Bill could just murder him with his bare hands. Johnny was physically larger, but he couldn’t transform into a monster.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” He decided.

“Then I’m happy to kill you right here, you son of a bitch. I’ve been waiting .”

“Bill!” Clementine grabbed his sleeve to stop his forward momentum. “Honey, calm down.”

Bill did a double-take at the endearment and stopped advancing on Johnny.

“Don’t.” She told him, running a comforting palm over his arm. “Your poetic temperament is getting away from you, but one punch could break your hand. Then how could you play guitar?”

“How about if I use a bat to beat him? Then my hand would be protected by the aluminum.”

“You mustn’t let Johnny get under your skin. Especially not here.” She gestured around the empty bar. “You’ll get fired. Again.”

Bill seemed torn. He clearly wanted to rip Johnny apart, but he knew he couldn’t do that in front of Clementine. Not if he was pretending to be some bullshit ‘sensitive artist.’ He quickly abandoned his homicidal plans, all his focus shifting to the guileless woman who he wanted to bamboozle and steal.

“Clem,” Bill drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down, “I don’t care that you were Johnny’s muse. That is not why I hired you as a manager.”

She nodded, but even Johnny could see she still felt insecure. The girl never did have a lot of confidence. What did muses really have to feel confident about, though?

Johnny was emboldened, now. “Everything he says is bullshit!”

Bill ignored him. “I’m not looking to be some big-time star.” He argued to Clementine, like she’d been the one to say otherwise. “I want you with me, because I want you with me . You and me have the same future. We…”

“Bill, you are a star.” Clementine interrupted. “Or at least you will be. I’ve told you that.”

“A coyote wouldn’t even know what to do with a muse.” Johnny interjected, his voice filled with scorn. “They don’t have the feelings of real artists. They’re just about sex and greed.”

Bill flashed him a savage look.

“Sex and greed?” Clementine repeated incredulously. “Johnny, you’re the one who forced me from the band, so you could have it all for yourself.”

“No! That isn’t at all how it went. Bill is twisting it, so you think that I did something wrong…”

“And you’re the one sleeping with both Rosalee and Susannah Alabama.” Clem continued, talking right over his protest. “So, if anyone’s driven by sex and greed it’s you .”

“That’s not true!” Johnny declared, even though parts of it had a bit of truth. A small bit. “Susannah and I are just friends.” And if she occasionally gave him a friendly blowjob, it was no big deal. Certainly nothing Clem needed to know about.

Clementine fixed him with a look of mild disgust, like he was the liar in the room. “There are text messages between you two.”

“That bitch kept the text messages?” Johnny couldn’t believe the level of stupidity surrounding him. “Shit! What if they’re leaked to Vulture Valente? It would be a scandal! Why isn’t Susannah thinking about the band?”

“Why aren’t you thinking about the band?” Clementine retorted. “You’re stringing along the bass banjo player and the manager.”

“Susannah’s replaceable.” Johnny waved a hand, because who even paid attention to the bass-banjo? He planned to fire her anyway. “And Rosalee’s got a thing for me, sure. But we’re not serious. No way!” He gave Clem a meaningful look. “She’s four years older than us, you know. Practically a cougar.”

Bill’s brows lifted. “So all y’all have an understanding?” He clarified.

“Of course.” Johnny insisted and it was true. After all, any woman who slept with a musician should know the score. If she didn’t, it was her own problem. “They’re not innocent girls, getting taken advantage of. Unlike Clem.”

Bill’s eyes narrowed.

“Bill is not taking advantage of me.”

“Of course he is! He thinks you’re his ticket to the spotlight.”

“This is pointless.” Clementine backtracked to grab his laptop off the bar and then headed towards him, shoving it into his arms. “You’ve caused enough trouble, Johnny. Take this and go away.” She gestured towards the exit. “Go on!”

“Nobody can make that coyote into a star, Clem. Sooner or later, you’ll see that. Your magic is too important to you. You need a real artist to work with. It’s the only way you’ll be happy.” His triumphant eyes met Bill’s stony gaze, as he stormed out the door. “Everybody knows it.”