Page 32 of The Bachelor

Shane walked into the restaurant. He was wearing jeans, which aggravated Avery. Why couldn’t she wear jeans if he was wearing jeans? But he was in charge and she was the one trying to sell him a song. Damn double standards. Especially since when his gaze landed on her, his eyes narrowed, darkened. The smile he had been wearing fell off his face, and he took her in, head to toe. That seemed more than a little obvious to her, but she was extra self-conscious. Pat probably didn’t think a thing about it.

She glanced at her boss. Wrong. Pat was studying them both, gaze shifting back and forth, awareness dawning on her. As embarrassing as it was to have Pat think that Shane was interested in her for more than her songwriting skills, she had to assume Pat would discourage fraternization, so she would be a perfect willing buffer. It would be better if Shane were even attempting to be discreet, but he wasn’t.

“Nice dress,” he said as a greeting. “Very…white.”

Oh, geez. She prayed that her cheeks weren’t tomato red.

“Thanks,” Avery managed to squeak out.

But he just turned and held his hand out for Pat to shake.

The restaurant was fortunately on the noisy side, waitresses bustling back and forth with loaded baskets of hot wings and ribs. Pat and Shane carried the conversation, talking about people she didn’t know and what was new and upcoming in the industry. They talked digital technology, the future of stadium tours, trends in music. Avery just listened and absorbed it all in awe, nodding on occasion, but mostly hoping like hell she would remember everything that was said. It was like a college education for a musician, an opportunity she couldn’t have even imagined she would have been afforded this soon on her journey. Even if Shane only wanted to flirt, and didn’t do a damn thing with her song, she had learned more in an hour with him than she had spending years on the outside looking in.

But eventually the conversation was turned to her.

“Tell me about yourself,” Shane said. “What did you do back in Kentucky?”

Avery took a sip of her water and tried not to reflect on the fact that she had never said she was from Kentucky during the course of dinner. Pat was probably wondering how in the hell he knew that. Then again, maybe no one gave a shit and she was just paranoid.

“I was a waitress, and I worked at the stables part-time. I love horses.”

“Nothing in the music industry?”

She shook her head. “There is no music industry where I’m from. Not even live bands at the local bars. Folks are more into the DJ-style line dances.”

“What are you hoping to accomplish here in Nashville then?” He had finished a dozen of the five-alarm hot wings and two beers and was sitting back like he had all the time in the world. It sounded like an interview question, yet he looked casual. Only vaguely interested.

Avery couldn’t read the vibe at all so she told herself that Shane was like any other potential employer. Which meant she should be professional, reserved, but friendly. “My goal is to be able to fully support myself as a songwriter. To be given the opportunity to work with musicians and singers and someday hear a song of mine sung at an arena-sized venue and at an awards show.” Might as well go for broke, right?

His eyebrows rose. “You’re confident. I’ll give you that.”

That made her cheeks burn. Had he expected her to downplay her ultimate ambitions? “I don’t think it’s confidence so much as it is desire.”

“Desire is an interesting word.” He flagged the waitress down and ordered another beer.

Avery didn’t know him well enough to gauge if he was buzzed or not, but she knew for sure she would be if she’d had two beers in less than an hour. She also couldn’t tell what he meant by that abstract comment. “I can think of much more interesting words than desire,” she said. “That one is overused, I admit.”

“Then give me a more interesting word.”

“Brouhaha. That’s a good word.”

Pat and Shane both laughed. “Try fitting that into a song.”

“I didn’t think we were talking about lyrics.” She didn’t really know what they were talking about, but she didn’t like feeling like she was being grilled by someone who wasn’t clear in his intentions.

“You’re right, I guess we weren’t talking about songwriting. Just the desire behind it.” He smiled. “Okay, so here’s my contribution—canoodle.”

It figured he would reference kissing and hugging.

“That’s a good one. Pat, how about you? Have a favorite weird word?” she asked.

Her boss gave an amused smile. “Comeuppance. I always wanted to just give someone a good old-fashioned comeuppance, you know?”

“That’s a solid word,” Avery told her.

“What’s the dirtiest non-dirty word you can think of?” Shane asked.

“I have no idea,” Pat said. “Wait. Filth?”

---