Chapter 14 Cody
One week later…
"Table for two under Cameron," I say as I enter BlueSky Bistro and Bar. It’s an upscale restaurant in the heart of Nashville, one that I've only visited once before with my manager. Thankfully, it’s also the kind of place where country music artists are a common sight, so I don’t have to worry about bothering with a disguise or making myself discreet for my date tonight.
The hostess gives me a funny look as if she’s trying to place me. I grin back at her, letting her take her time. After a few seconds, her eyes light up in recognition, and a blush creeps over her cheeks.
"Oh my god, are you… Cody Cameron?" she swoons, giggling nervously.
I smile. "Yes. I am," I glance at her name tag, "Nice to meet you, Rebekah."
She flutters her eyelids and attempts what I’m assuming is supposed to be a seductive look, which makes me stifle a laugh. “We get country music artists in here all of the time and I try not to swoon, but you’re my absolute favorite right now.”
I smile. “Well, I’m flattered—and happy to hear that.”
I’m still not used to this kind of attention. Not even close. It catches me off guard every time—the way people look at me now, like I’m someone, like I’m worth knowing. The way they talk about me like I’ve always belonged here, like I haven’t spent years on the outside looking in.
All because the right people noticed me. Because Nashville’s larger music scene finally decided to pay attention. Because I landed an upcoming tour.
Because, for whatever reason, people have suddenly decided I’m interesting.
It’s bizarre, really. People taking an interest in a guy like me—a small-town kid from Texas who grew up singing in his backyard and never thought it would turn into this. And yet, here I am.
But I’ve learned something about fame. People don’t want to know me. Not really.
They don’t want the guy who overthinks his lyrics, who second-guesses himself before every show, who still wakes up some mornings wondering if he’s good enough to be here.
The one who aches for a real love, not one who makes you wonder if they just want your fame.
I want a family someday, to settle down and slow down.
To feel normal and love like my parents did.
Nah, they want the version of me they’ve already created in their minds. The one who’s confident, untouchable. The one who never stumbles and is a serial dater. It’s not their fault. It’s just how it works.
That’s the trade-off. The price of being known. And maybe that’s what makes being a celebrity so damn lonely.
"Do you mind if I get your autograph?" she asks eagerly.
"Not at all. What would you like me to sign?"
She fumbles around the hostess station, looking for anything until she finally stretches out her arm.
"You can sign right here," she says, handing me a marker. “I think I might get it tattooed on me later today.”
I bend down, inking my name on her arm as she watches me closely, mouth agape the entire time. "Thank you so much. I'll never wash this," she says, mustering that same flirty smile again.
"Hi, so sorry I’m late," I hear Mae's voice from behind me burst onto the scene, her sweet aroma attacking my senses deliciously and bringing me back to the real reason for tonight.
The hostess's eyes shift between us, realization that we’re together, okay, not together, together, but together nonetheless, dawning.
Mae looks like she just stepped out of a high-power meeting—tight gray pencil skirt hugging every curve, crisp white button-up tucked in just right.
But the way the top buttons strain slightly, revealing a teasing glimpse of lace and the swell of her full breasts?
Yeah, professional isn’t exactly the first word that comes to mind.
Her dark blonde hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, lips painted a deep red, makeup minimal because she doesn’t need it.
She’s always been a natural fucking beauty.
She might be all business on the surface, but my thoughts? Not professional in the slightest. And when I catch the slight sheen of fabric clinging to her skin, giving away just enough of what’s underneath, I know I’m staring too hard.
She’s definitely filled out since we were teenagers.
“No problem,” I say, pulling her in for a quick hug and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her cheek. She smells like wildflowers and fresh soap, and I let myself linger, just a second too long, inhaling deep like I can keep a part of her with me.
If she notices, she doesn’t say anything. But the hostess? She clears her throat—loudly.
"Sure, right this way, please," she murmurs. She leads us to a more private space at the back of the restaurant, just as I had requested, and pulls out my chair, completely oblivious to Mae or maybe she notices and just doesn’t care.
I reach for Mae's seat instead and allow her to sit first while the hostess stands there awkwardly watching.
"Thank you," Mae says, smiling at the hostess, who continues to act as if she doesn’t exist.
A few seconds later, our waitress arrives to take our drink orders and then finally leaves us alone the way I’ve been hoping.
I’m nervous as hell, not having seen Mae since we were nineteen years old.
She seems the same, but there’s a certain coldness about her, like she’s built a wall up to protect herself.
I suppose it isn’t surprising given the decade she’s lived and the family that she was born into.
But I want to know more. I want to know more about who she is now, today, in the present, and not about all the ways the people in her past, including me, have let her down.
"So..." she begins, her voice trailing off, "what details would you like to discuss regarding your case?"
Straight to business. Not surprising.
I take a sip of my ice water. "The PR business you’ve created is incredible. Tell me how that came to be. I thought you were going to school to be a lawyer when we split?"
Mae sits back and folds her arms over her chest which does absolutely nothing but distract me given her shirt is completely sheer. "That's not what I meant when I said to keep things strictly professional and about business during this dinner, Cody."
I smile and take another sip of my water, trying to distract myself because though I don’t normally get stage fright, I’m terrified of screwing this up. Whatever this is. "I know. But technically, it's about business. Your business."
She rolls her eyes but smiles, and I can see her shoulders relax just the tiniest bit as she sinks into the conversation.
"Shortly after I divorced my ex, my parents cut me off financially.
I was amid my last semester of law school and had no other option but to take a job so that I could continue to pay for food, rent, and my bills.
I moved to Las Vegas with Elsie and got hired at a casino as a server.
It was there that I ran into Dexter one night, and he offered me an opportunity to help him with a crisis he had.
Long story short, his financial support helped me start my PR firm and establish myself within the athletic community. "
"Wow, I get now why you said you owe him."
She nods. "He was an angel when I was at my lowest point and couldn’t see the light.
We’ve stayed close ever since, and I’ve always done any work he needs for free and taken on any of his close friends as clients.
Hence… you." She waves her hands at me from across the table and takes a sip of her water just as the server drops off our drinks.
I nod, wondering what 'staying close' means exactly. Dexter hadn't mentioned that he and Mae were seeing each other so I hope it isn’t that. I also feel an overwhelming sense of guilt that it wasn’t me who’d been there to help her at her lowest point.
But we’d lost touch. Went our separate ways as soon as we left for college.
It was a mutual decision, one that we’d both considered would be in the best interest of our futures.
At least… I think so. At times, it feels like I’ve lived a thousand lives since that last summer we spent together, making love under the willow trees and telling each other we were our forever.
"If you’re wondering, I don’t let anything inappropriate happen between clients. Dexter and I are simply friends. I’d never do that with any active client," she stresses.
Noted. She doesn’t want anything to happen between us either. That’s fine but I know. I know in my heart. What was between us is still here. Even if that means just a friendship. I miss her. I want her back in my life. For good this time.
I decide to change the subject instead of providing her with a rebuttal on why I’m not just a client of hers. Why our history spans whatever arbitrary rules she’s decided to impose on her company and the people that it serves.
"And you have a daughter, Elsie? I’m sure that hasn’t always been easy to manage a successful, thriving business and raise a young child?"
"Yes, but Elsie is amazing. She’s always been so flexible and easygoing.
I made a close friend, Sienna, another wife of an ex-NFL player, while living in Las Vegas.
Sienna would watch Elsie for free when I couldn’t afford to pay her and had to work nights.
Now she’s my executive assistant and the most loyal person I know. "
"Sounds like you have a good support system, but it feels like the real reason for your success is because of how determined you are.”
She smiles and nods, as she takes a sip of her wine. “I haven’t had a choice. You know I was always dependent on my parents financially. Once they cut that off, I did what I needed to do.”
“Hm…” I hum in acknowledgement because I do know, and I can see the ways that it’s toughened her exterior and matured her. “How old is Elsie now?"
"Almost nine years old." Mae beams, and I can tell she adores her daughter. "She’s incredible. Wicked smart and at the top of her class."
"I can see how proud you are of her."