Page 24 of Music City Diaries

That and the woman looked at my state and said I could have an hour to shower and pack. It didn’t take me that long since I only had two bags that hadn’t been touched. I found an envelope and a package on the dresser in Maddox’s handwriting, but I didn’t trust myself to open it yet. So I shoved it down to the bottom of the bag with Dad’s letter.

Seemed I had a thing for men disappointing me in letter form.

I’m on a bus now headed to the one place I’m hopeful my dreams will come true—Music City. Nashville had to be better than Memphis. Plus, it was at least close to the bank and information Dad had left me in case I ever needed it.

I don’t want to admit that it felt kind of empowering to make it to the bus stop on my own, buying that ticket and deciding for myself. I’d been leaning on him too much, using him as a shield to protect me.

I know I’d needed it in the beginning, but I’d gotten used to his comfort, taking advantage of his natural tendency to take care of me. But I’d never tell him he’d been right. Nope.

I miss him, though. So much. His smell is everywhere, and I keep looking over my shoulder, thinking he just went to the restroom or to grab some food.

But he never returns.

That’s the hardest part.

I want to be mad at him, but I can’t. I love him. Funny how I realize that after he’s gone.

I need to use this time, though, to become the strong girl I once was. I need to stand on my own two feet and figure out my shit. And hopefully, it will be time for him to return by then, once he’s completed his mission.

I just know I can’t keep waiting for life to happen to me. I have to start living it.

Nashville—here’s to all my dreams coming true.

Love,

Darcie

Eight

DARCIE

SIX MONTHS LATER

Humming,I scrubbed the counter, dancing along to the song on the jukebox. My shift was about over, but then I had to head to my second job at the laundromat. No time to rest for the desperately poor in County Music’s capital.

“You’re good, Darcie. See you tomorrow.” Jolene placed an envelope on the counter, and I sighed in relief. Tip payout days were my favorite. Sliding the thick envelope into my back pocket, I nodded, dropping the rag into the bucket, and headed to the back.

The Honkey Tonk bar was busier than the diner had been, but it was fun. After getting a fake ID with the name Darcie Rosebud on it, I’d been able to find a job. This one was a cross between a bar and dance club with karaoke in between. They held several events that made it fun, constantly changing it up. I still wasn’t close to anyone yet, but I was starting to feel like I could open that door.

“Night, Darcie,” one of the girls said as I walked through the back room.

“Night.” I waved, smiling softly.

“We’re all headed to Layla’s later if you want to join.”

“Oh, I can’t. I’m headed to my second job.”

“Yuck! Girl, you work all the time.”

“Yeah, well, gotta eat.” I laughed awkwardly, not sure what to say. She eyed me a second before she walked over, stepping closer.

“What if I knew a way for you to make a lot of money?” She bit her lip, and I worried she was suggesting prostitution.

“Why does it sound like you’re Pretty Woman-ing me?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

She waved her hand, laughing. “Girl, that’s so ‘90s. It’s way easier than that now.”

“Wait, so you are talking about prostitution? I thought it was a joke.”

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