Page 73 of August Lane
“It’s not,” Luke said, because it wasn’t. It was a bomb he was quietly diffusing to repurpose for something better. Something Jojo would thank him for. “Despite what you heard earlier, I’ve got it handled.”
David nodded and looked at Silas, who watched their conversation while tapping a pack of cigarettes against his palm. “This guy scares me.”
“I know him.”
“Good for you. I’m out of here.” He pivoted but paused. “We should talk once this is over. About your career.”
Luke nodded. “I’d like that.”
Once David was gone, Silas sat down, lit the cigarette, and smoked with relish. “Don’t tell anyone I did this in here,” he mumbled. He puffed while Luke grabbed a matching chair and pulled it up to him. “Heard you were back.”
“For a few weeks now.” Luke took in Silas’s older, grayer appearance. “I should have called.”
“I heard those pitiful albums you put out. Probably better you didn’t.”
Luke laughed. “All right. Lay it on me.”
“Nah, you already know. My question is what are you doing now? Or what do you want to do?”
Luke hadn’t asked himself that question in years. When he was recording, he did what his producers told him, changing his pitch and diction, playing up his drawl, all to increase his chances of being played by country radio. After two weeks of working with August, he’d fallen back into old habits, playing blue notes when he felt like it and adding more grit to his voice. “I want to play like I used to. Back when no one knew me.”
“I can make it happen,” Silas said, and put out his cigarette. “Come by the club tonight. Bring a hat.” He narrowed his eyes. “You staying with August?”
“No sir,” Luke said quickly. Silas cared about him, but the man loved August like his only daughter. “She’s got her own apartment. I’m at Birdie’s.”
He sighed. “Has she talked to you about it? Taking care of her grannie at the end?”
“Some. But not really.”
“She needs to talk to someone,” Silas said. “With Jojo coming back, it’s hitting her hard. She’s reckless when she’s hurting.”
“I know.” Luke pictured her that first day at King’s, drop deadgorgeous and mad enough to scald him. She’d used that blackmail scheme to wake him up, remind him how to make music. “I love her reckless, though. She’s brave.”
Silas raised his eyebrows and lit another cigarette. “Y’all talk aboutthat?”
“I’m less brave.”
“Son.” He touched Luke’s shoulder. “You’re not a coward. That’s your mother talking. That’s the addiction. But you’re here, upright and sober. And it sounds like you’re trying to help that girl through all this, even though I bet she’s fighting you pretty hard.”
“Sometimes.” Lately he’d been fighting with himself. “I haven’t told her everything. Why I stayed away.”
“Sounds like you two need to have a real conversation.”
Last night flashed in his mind, her begging him not to rehash things. “What if it hurts like I said earlier?”
“Pain is a sign of life. If it hurts, that means there’s something worth saving.”
Mavis gave her stock answer when August asked for legal help. “I don’t work with family.”
“It’s one little contract,” August replied, even though she suspected there was nothing little about a document that could change your life. Luke had ruined his career thanks to a contract he’d signed as a baby adult. “Don’t you owe me a favor for some kind and generous thing I did? Because that sounds like me.”
Mavis fell silent, and August was belatedly reminded of the kind, generous favor they never talked about anymore. The pastor’s wife’s teenage abortion was the kind of secret that could ruin lives—both Mavis’s and her husband’s. Their congregation could forgive a lot of things, but their leader’s marriage to a mortal sinner wasn’t one of them.
“You used that favor,” Mavis said eventually. “For the showcase, remember?”
August had been so wrapped up in Luke that she’d forgotten about Silas’s predicament. She’d lost sight of a lot of things, including thereason she’d blackmailed him in the first place. Luke wasn’t auditioning for the role of loser boyfriend number eighty-five. He was a means to an end. She couldn’t risk losing what could be her last chance at a career because some hot guy with a guitar made her yeast rolls.
“Yes, the showcase. Any new developments?”
