12. 12
Annabelle
Now
C ontinuing to argue, Laura insists, “I still think you should wear your cowboy boots.”
“Dammit, Laura, for the tenth time, I’m not wearing the boots!”
“Then why’d you bring them?”
Excellent question. And one I don’t have a simple answer for.
Throwing up my hands, I grouse, “I brought half my closet with me because I didn’t know what to wear.”
The girls are off school tomorrow, so they’re having a slumber party at Laura’s house while I go on my date with Josh.
After we got them settled for the night, Laura’s been helping me get ready for my first proper date.
I’m equal parts excited and anxious. Meeting a guy for drinks at night feels way more high stakes than grabbing coffee with a stranger in broad daylight, and the nerves are getting to me.
“Josh was wearing boots and a cowboy hat when you met him. He’ll think you look sexy in them.”
“Yeah, and I told him I hate country music. I’ll look like a poser trying to impress him,” I huff. “Besides, I don’t even like my cowboy boots.”
“Then why do you keep them?” Laura asks, hands on her hips.
My voice drops as the words slip out, “Because Kyle gave them to me.” No matter how hard I work to put the past to rest, it still pops up, demanding my attention.
I have a serious love/hate relationship with the gifts Kyle gave me. Part of me wants to keep everything so I can remember the good times and pass on the important, sentimental items to the girls when they get older. But some gifts from Kyle cause me more pain than they’re worth.
Like the boots.
The night Kyle gave me the boots, we were headed to a work dinner for a new artist he’d signed.
I was dressed and ready when he rushed in late, grinning, handing me a big gift box like he couldn’t wait to see my reaction.
With their brown leather and delicate embroidery, the boots were beautiful, but not my style.
I’m a city girl. I had no business owning, much less wearing, cowboy boots.
And I was disappointed that my husband didn't know that about me.
Still, I thanked him and pretended to love them, telling myself it was the thought that counted. But when I hugged him, I caught a faint trace of a spicy and unfamiliar fragrance, so unlike my usual vanilla and cherry scented perfumes.
That was the first inkling I had that Kyle might be having an affair. But as unsettled as I felt, I denied the possibility. It seemed unfathomable that Kyle was capable of that level of deception. Little did I know.
But now, every time I see those damn boots in my closet, I’m reminded of that moment.
Why the hell did I bring the boots? Maybe it was my subconscious way of reminding myself what can happen when you let someone in and trust them implicitly. Perhaps it’s a fucked-up form of self-protection.
“Alright, you win. I’ll relent since you played the Kyle card,” Laura teases, lightening the mood. “You can wear your snakeskin heels instead of the boots, as long as you trade your jeans for high-waisted black trousers. They’ll look great with that cropped sweater.”
“Jeez, you can’t just let me win, can you?” But I don’t hate the idea of pairing the pants with the heels, so I agree. “Done.”
She grins, victorious. “Where are you meeting Josh again?”
“Some new bar I’ve never heard of, which means it’s too hip for me.” I frown at my reflection. “When did I turn into such a grandma?”
“You’re not a grandma, Anna. You just have more life experience than most other twenty-nine-year-olds.”
“That’s putting it nicely.” I fiddle with the gold bracelets on my wrist and meet Laura’s eyes in her bathroom mirror.
When Laura set up my profile on the dating app, she included that I’m a single mom.
Even though I’ve already met Josh in person, I’m more nervous about my date with him because he knows nothing about me.
“How much should I tell Josh about my life? I don’t want to scare him off, but I don’t want to lie to him either. ”
Laura smiles. “Play it by ear, babe. You don’t need to spill your life story on the first date.” Giving my shoulder a brief squeeze, she adds, “Don’t stress. Just enjoy your evening. ”
Laura lines my lips before filling them in with bright red lipstick. She steps back to assess my makeup. She gives my cheekbones one more swipe of bronzer and then nods. “You look like a million bucks!”
Standing in the bathroom, I study my appearance, squaring my shoulders. I look good. And even better… I feel good. I'm a little anxious, but I feel ready.
When I arrive, I'm surprised by how swanky the bar is.
The dark walls are illuminated by modern crystal chandeliers, their shimmer casting sparkling patterns that dance across the room.
Mahogany wood, forest green velvet, and black marble add to the lush and sophisticated vibe.
It seems like the kind of upscale place where a single bar tab probably costs more than my weekly grocery bill.
Josh rises when he spots me and greets me with a kiss on my cheek. He smells good. “It’s great to see you again, Anna.”
“Same,” I smile shyly, my nerves getting the best of me. “Thanks for inviting me out.”
Josh gestures to his cell phone lying atop the table. “I want to apologize in advance. I’m expecting an update about an ongoing business deal, and I can’t miss the call.”
“No problem. What kind of work do you do? Oh wait, you work at the Ryman, right?”
Squinting, Josh aims an inquisitive stare my way. “You really don’t like country music, do you?”
“What?” My nose crinkles in confusion. “No, not really, but we’ve already established that.”
“Ever heard of the band Outlaw?”
Who hasn’t heard of Outlaw?
Chuckling, I nod. “I work at K-Country, so yes, I’ve heard of Outlaw before, but I don’t know their music.”
“Hold up. You work at Nashville’s premiere country music radio station, but you don’t even like country music?” Josh’s mouth twitches in amusement. “Hot damn, this keeps getting better and better.”
“I misspoke.” Despite his good-natured ribbing, I feel the need to defend myself.
“I work in advertising sales and represent four radio stations, one of which is K-Country.” I shrug.
“It isn’t a prerequisite to like the music the radio station plays.
I just need to have the highest listenership ratings to demand top dollar when I sell my airspace. ”
Even with my explanation, Josh’s smile expands. “Well, Anna, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Josh Harper, the bassist for Outlaw.”
Speechless, I can only stare, his words hanging in the air. Then I giggle as I hiss, “Holy shit! My best friend loves you guys. She is going to roast me, Josh. I’m so sorry that I don't know enough about your band to recognize you!”
Holding up his hand, he replies, “Please don’t apologize. It’s a delightful change of pace to meet a beautiful woman for a date and not have her know who I am.” His compliment makes me blush, but I hope it’s imperceptible in the muted lighting.
The server delivers our drinks to our table, interrupting the flow of our conversation. As soon as she turns her back to our table, Josh’s phone lights up with an incoming call. He sends me an apologetic glance before taking the call.
“Hey, buddy.” The apprehension on his face morphs into pleasure.
“Okay, okay. That all sounds good, though, right?” He bites his lower lip before clenching his fist in quiet celebration.
“They agreed to the changes? Fuck, yeah!” Josh raises his head and looks at me, smiling.
“Man, I’d love to celebrate with y’all tonight, but I’m on a date right now.
Okay, yeah. Sounds good. Bye.” He slips his phone into his pocket. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries.” Cocking my head to one side, I remark, “Sounds like you got good news.”
“Not good news, great news,” he corrects me. “Outlaw’s current contract expires after the release of our fifth album, and our label has just agreed to meet all our stipulations for our new contract. We assumed they’d play hardball during negotiations and leave us in limbo for a bit.”
“Josh, even I know they’d be idiots to lose your band to the competition.”
Impulsively, Josh leans forward, cushions my cheeks in his hands, and places a swift kiss on my lips. His exuberant display of affection surprises me, but I don’t mind it. “Sorry, I got swept up in the moment.”
“Don’t apologize unless you don’t plan on doing it again,” I simper.
Oh my God, who am I? This drink must be stronger than I thought.
“That I can do.” Abruptly, Josh swears and removes his phone from his pocket. “Sorry, Anna. It’s Rowdy, one of my bandmates. Do you mind if I take this?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. Answer it, please.”
“You’re an angel, Anna.” He swipes right to answer the call and brings the phone up to his ear, never breaking eye contact with me. “What do you want, Rowdy? I’m with an incredibly beautiful and patient woman, and it’s rude that y’all keep interrupting our date.”
It’s the second time Josh has called me beautiful, and it warms me from the inside out. It’s been so long since a man’s compliment has sent tingles down my spine. That hasn’t happened since the night I met Hayes .
Shit, I’m not supposed to be thinking about Hayes when I'm on a date with another man.
“Good God, y’all are obnoxious. Yes, I’ll ask, but you needy fuckers are going to owe me.
” Josh rolls his eyes and lowers his phone.
“I’m so sorry to ask you this… but would you mind if the rest of the band meets us here?
Rowdy's wife is cranky and pregnant, and she’s only given him tonight to celebrate. ”
“Of course! Don’t be silly. Y’all should celebrate as a band. I can head out, and maybe we can pick this up another night?”
Josh grabs my hand, imploring me, “No, please stay. I spend almost all my free time with these guys. I don’t want you to leave.”
“Okay, then,” I nod, relenting. “I’ll stay.”
Josh sends me a wink, turning his attention back to his phone call. “Okay, man. She’s down. I’ll get the first round of drinks ordered, but y’all are picking up the tab since you’re ruining our date. See you soon.”
“I’m glad I know next to nothing about Outlaw, so I’m not nervous about meeting the other members of your band.”
“They’re going to love that you don’t give a shit about who they are, believe me.”
Josh flags down our server and asks about moving to a larger table. He orders several bottles of champagne and a bottle of expensive whiskey with lots of shot glasses.
I text Laura to let her know that I’m having fun and will be out late. I do not, however, tell her who Josh is. If I did, I guarantee she’d find a neighbor to stay with the girls so she could crash the party.
I’m on my second glass of champagne when I hear Josh greet someone behind me. The band has arrived. I take a deep breath and pray I don’t embarrass myself among these famous people .
The first guy strides confidently to our table. He’s a big dude, tall and strapping, with a thick beard and mustache, and a kind smile. He ignores Josh in favor of greeting me instead.
“Hey, I’m Rowdy. Thank you for letting us intrude on your evening.” He shakes my hand, and I feel myself blushing. These country boys are so polite, and I love their Southern accents.
I might have to rethink my stance on country bands. Not so much their music, but the musicians themselves.
“I’m Anna. It’s nice to meet you, Rowdy. Congratulations on the new contract. But truly, I feel like I’m the one intruding. Please kick me out anytime, so you can celebrate privately as a band.”
Josh slings an arm around my shoulders, and I aim a smile his way. “Told you she was cool as hell. Anna, let me introduce you to the rest of Outlaw. This is James. He’s my older brother and our drummer, and this is Ruston, our lead singer."
With a smile, I raise my eyes to nod hello to James and Ruston.
And I freeze.
The breath flees from my lungs. The smile drops, and my eyes widen in shock. “Hayes,” I gasp.
He stares at me, silent, and an embarrassing realization dawns on me—he might not remember me. I may be just one in a sea of many faceless one-night stands he’s had.
Because he’s a freaking famous lead singer of a band.
Of course, he won’t recognize or remember me.
Heat flames my cheeks. I idealized my memories of Hayes and allowed myself to believe this fantasy, this delusion, that our night together was special. That we were special.
Sensing my obvious loss of composure, Josh jokes to ease the tension. “Oh sure, you recognize the lead singer of our band, but not me, the lowly bass guitarist. ”
But then Hayes murmurs, “Annabelle.”
One word. I hear that one word and my lungs begin working again.
He remembers me.
He remembers me.
Sometimes the past doesn't stay in the past. Sometimes it walks in through the front door wearing a cowboy hat and a lopsided smile.
Just then, his eyes, that steel blue color that haunts my dreams, capture mine, refusing to let go.
Josh steps away from me, dropping his arm from my shoulder, murmuring in disbelief, “Holy shit. You’re… you’re Hayes’ Annabelle ?”
I feel everyone’s eyes upon me. I stand, paralyzed, unsure of what to do or how to react.
Hayes’ eyes drag up my body, from my stiletto heels to my face, in a slow, consuming study. When his gaze meets mine again, my heart beats double-time. His expression flickers with emotions I can’t read.
Did our night together mean as much to him as it did to me?
But as soon as that optimistic thought crosses my mind, I stop myself.
The reality remains that we occupy very different worlds.
Hayes is a famous multimillionaire musician.
I’ll bet he has women falling into bed with him all the time.
Josh probably knows about me only because they swap stories about their sexual exploits.
The idea that Hayes may have crudely rehashed our night together with his buddies is powerful enough to cut me off at the knees.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I can’t stand here another minute, pretending that what I experienced with Hayes didn’t mean something to me. Fumbling for my purse, I turn to Josh to issue a brief apology when I hear someone else call my name.
“Anna? Anna Morris, is that you? ”
Confused, I glance behind me, my mouth dropping open. “Aiden?”
What is Kyle’s colleague doing here?
This is more than I can handle. My need to escape becomes overwhelming. I push past the group, rushing to the exit. I can’t stay. I can’t be there to witness the look on Hayes’ face when he realizes the truth.
When he remembers everything he told me, and when he realizes everything I withheld from him.