Page 21 of Country Heat

The girls are screeching in excitement. Cash’s hard mouth ticks up into a smile.

“He stole my girl. He trashed my car.”

He joins in, singing with me. “He thinks he runs this godforsaken town.”

We turn and smile at each other, singing for the pure joy of it.

“But it’s time to take Johnny Remington down.”

I love this song. It’s so fun. We sing the next verse and the chorus, having a great time while the girls listen in amazement and Vince dances on the steps.

“What do you ladies think?” I ask when we’re done.

“Amazing!” Vince’s niece shouts.

“Isn’t this man a legend?” I ask them, kissing Cash on the cheek. They all cheer in agreement.

Holy shit. I made Cash Edwards blush.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Cash says, smiling at them. “I’m going to send your uncle back with some signed posters, would you like that?”

I have to push the phone away they’re screaming so loud.

Cash just smiles. I can tell he doesn’t have a lot of fan interactions like this. He’s all cooped up in this isolated castle in the middle of nowhere and probably forgets what it’s like to interact with his fans. They’re just people. People who love him. To me, this is the best part.

“Thank you so much,” Vince says, clasping his hands together when I give him the phone back. “You just gave me so many cool points, you have no idea.”

I laugh as Cash disappears inside to get some posters. We both sign them on the steps and then Cash gives them to Vince.

“Perfect,” he says, looking a little disappointed that there are only five. Just enough for the girls.

“He wants one too,” I whisper to Cash.

“Oh,” he says like it didn’t even occur to him. “Umm…”

He takes off his cowboy hat, signs it, and plops it onto Vince’s head. Vince’s smile is so big it makes me laugh.

“Thank you, Mr. Edwards,” he says, backing down the steps and bowing his head. “Thank you, Lola!”

I wave to him and then laugh as I watch him rush to the car and drive away, still wearing the hat.

“That was fun,” I say, grinning at Cash.

He nods in agreement, looking like he’s surprised that it was. “Yeah. I haven’t done anything like that in a long time.”

“Well, get used to it,” I say as I grab his hand and pull him inside. “Because that’s my favorite part of being famous.”

He gives me the tour of his amazing house, but by the time I’ve looked into the thirteen or fourteenth bedroom, I’m done. There are only so many beds and curtains you can see before they all start looking the same.

“I saved the best for last,” he says, squeezing my hand. “My recording studio.”

My whole body breaks out into tingles. “Take me there now.”

He laughs as we hurry down the steps into a new wing of the house.

I’m mesmerized as we walk in and I see all the gear. All the instruments. It’samazing. It’s better than the recording studio the record album set me up with for my first album. It haseverything.

“I think I’m in heaven,” I say as I sit down at the giant mixing board, wondering what each switch and dial does.

---