Chapter Six
C hristine moaned in her sleep. The pain was working its way into her subconscious.
She was being stabbed in the stomach again and again, and she tried to fight back, but her arms felt heavy and she couldn’t lift them.
She woke up, eyes wide, short of breath, looking around until she realized the source of her pain.
She cried out and slammed back onto the bed.
“Eve had to eat that damn apple, didn’t she? ”
She got out of bed, headed for the bathroom, grabbed some Midol out of the cabinet, and reached under the sink for a box of tampons. It was empty. “Argh.” She rummaged through her purse, her backpack, and finally, her suitcase before finding one lone tampon.
“Just what I want to do on a Sunday morning. Go to the drugstore.”
She didn’t want to leave the house but had no choice. Wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of outdated mom jeans, she headed for her car. The upside was that she didn’t know anybody who would be awake at this hour on a weekend.
She passed the drugstore and headed for Target. There, she could grab a Starbucks for her troubles. Whoever decided to put Starbucks inside of Target stores was secretly her hero.
She pushed her cart through the feminine product aisle, stocking up on tampons in three sizes along with Lightdays panty liners.
A few rolls of toilet paper and some paper towels rounded out her morning shopping.
Stifling a yawn and dreaming of curling back up in bed, she had just started unloading her cart at the checkout when someone called her name.
She shook her head and whispered, “Welcome to hell,” before turning around to see Matt coming up behind her. She closed her eyes. “Please, God, make him go away.”
“Hey, I thought that was you. What has you up so early?” Matt asked.
She raised her eyebrows and gave a little shrug. She motioned to the conveyor belt. No sense trying to hide the obvious.
“Oh. Uh, sorry.” Matt’s face registered numerous shades of pink and red.
“It’s a fact of life, my friend. At least for those of us lucky enough to be born with a uterus.”
Matt smiled. Christine blushed. Yep, she had it bad.
“And why are you up so early? It completely negates my thought that I could get away with baggy pants, sweatshirt, and no makeup. Only in Nashville. Country music’s fishbowl.”
“You always look great, Christine.” Matt’s voice was sincere, but Christine rolled her eyes anyway. She knew what she looked like.
“We just got in from last night’s show,” Matt said. “Before I crash for the afternoon, I figured I’d pick up some items.”
“Austin mentioned having a three-day run this week. I totally forgot. I haven’t talked to him much since the drunken night with the naked dancing people. He’s sent numerous texts saying thank you.”
“Yeah, one doesn’t get over a night like that easily. Unfortunately for me, I can neither run nor hide,” Matt said.
Christine grinned before turning toward the clerk and paying for her purchases. Once her unmentionables were safely tucked in a bag, she relaxed.
“I know you’re exhausted, but I was going to grab a Starbucks.” She pointed to the one in the store. “You up for it?”
“Absolutely. I’ll meet you over there.”
Christine’s face lit up as she walked over to get in line. She had just ordered her chai latte the way she liked it (tall, no water, nonfat milk with an extra pump of chai) when Matt joined her.
“You like it strong, huh?”
“Like my men,” she said. “Lame, I know.”
He ordered a regular coffee and said, “Extra hot.” Then he looked at Christine and said, “Just how I like my women.”
“God, can we both be this pitiful?” she asked.
“We can, and we are.” He nudged her shoulder, and she realized that even though she looked like a bum, she was enjoying this casual repartee.
They got their drinks and settled at a table in the back.
“How’s song plugging going?” he asked.
“Going well. My relationship with Austin has helped me become more popular amongst other singers. Lynda Bell wants me to go on the road with her next weekend. She wants me to pitch her some songs.”
“That’s awesome. She’s doing pretty well, right?”
“Her first album netted two top-ten songs and a top five. I hear she’s on her way to a New-Female-Vocalist nomination. Who knew being late for the awards would be such a good thing for me?”
“Goes to show. Ya never know.” Matt tipped his cup in a toast. “How’s the social media glare?”
“It’s slowed down for now. I think if I stay away from Austin, I’ll be fine. But is it fair for me to let go of a good thing because of stupid stuff like that?”
“Is it really a good thing? You’ve seen him on the road, heard his antics. There aren’t many secrets on a band bus.”
“He’s a mess, but yes, it’s a good thing.
So, we will see. Maybe the next time I’m out with him, nobody will say anything.
It should be old news by now. I can always hope.
What about you? How’s tour managing?” She took a sip of her chai, looking at him over the rim of the cup.
She could tell he was one of those guys who had no idea how sexy he was.
She’d watched women flirt with him in the meet-and-greet line.
Some were blatant, asking what he was doing after the show.
Others were more subtle, putting a hand on his arm or giving him a long hug to say thank you.
He’d respond politely and get right back to doing his job.
She’d mentioned it to Austin. He’d shrugged and said Matt never seemed to notice chicks coming on to him.
That made him even more attractive to Christine.
“With Austin’s band, it’s not just Austin who has fans.
The whole band has their own groupies. And trying to manage that is like nailing Jell-O to a tree.
I keep thinking if I hang in long enough, they’re bound to grow up, fall in love, and get married.
But hell, that could take years—decades, even. I’m not sure I can make it.”
“You know you can. Those guys love you. I can see it. They treat you like you’re one of them.”
“Thank God. Could you imagine if they didn’t?”
“How did you end up as Austin’s tour manager?”
“It was a random meeting. I went to college for business and got my MBA. I worked as a stockbroker and did very well. Was on the fast track, making a lot of money, and single with no kids. Everything was going toward retirement ’cause I had no one to spend it on.
But I was bored out of my mind. I was nearing my mid-thirties and having an early midlife crisis. All I needed was a sports car.”
Christine had a quick visual of him looking hot in a Corvette. She said, “How’d you meet Austin?”
“A friend of mine works for a radio station and had a dinner appointment with him. He invited me. I liked Austin’s music but also his personality.
He didn’t take himself too seriously and wasn’t trying to act like the coolest guy in the room.
Yet he was clearly the coolest guy in the room.
After my friend left, Austin and I stayed and talked over a pitcher of beer.
I told him I envied the life he was living, he asked about what I did, and we were both equally impressed.
He knew he couldn’t pay me what I was making but offered me a percentage of future earnings, which had the potential to be huge. ”
“More than huge. It was a risk, but what a payoff,” Christine said.
“So, here I am. No longer tied to a desk every day and trying to keep these guys from having too much fun while they’re out there. It’s a balance.”
“And what about you? Do you have any fun out on the road?” She wanted him to say no but was afraid she’d have to sit through stories about his own groupies.
“Only when pretty women drink Fireball and eat wheat cookies,” he said, causing Christine to inhale her chai tea, sending it down the wrong pipe. She grabbed a napkin and coughed until her eyes watered.
“Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have brought that up,” Matt said. He handed her another napkin.
“No, it’s fine. It just caught me off guard.”
Her comfort level dropped a notch at the memory of that night. The way he broke eye contact and focused on his coffee made her think he was also a little uncomfortable. They finished their drinks in silence and both stood at the same time.
“Thanks for inviting me. This was nice,” Matt said.
Christine fished through her brain for something to say that would bring the levity back. “Well, I’d invite you back to my apartment, but considering my purchases . . .”
It worked. Matt cracked a smile. He looked down at his feet, then up at her. “Rain check?”
“Definitely.” She could barely contain her excitement that he’d alluded to something happening in the future. It was nothing concrete, but she knew she’d hear that word in her head at least a thousand times and mull it over, picking it apart to see if there was hope.
They walked outside, and he followed her to her car, leaning in for a quick hug before saying goodbye. He smelled like the tour bus, which wasn’t exactly a fresh, clean smell, but it wasn’t a bad odor, either. She kind of liked it.
She arrived home and put a load of laundry in.
A hot shower helped lessen her cramps. After a quick cleaning of the apartment, her errands were complete.
She spent the rest of her Sunday lying on the couch, reading a Jodi Picoult novel with a heating pad on her stomach, and pausing every couple of pages to repeat the words “rain check.”
GOING ON THE ROAD WITH LYNDA was a lot different from touring with Austin.
To begin with, they weren’t on a tour bus, but in a full-size van.
And unlike Austin’s bus call the night before the show, allowing everyone to sleep the whole way to the venue, Lynda’s van call time was six in the morning.
With a seven-hour drive in front of them and a three o’clock sound check, they’d have to haul some ass to get there.