Page 84 of Country Music Cowboy
“Morning. You’re looking a bit rough, Lori-girl.” Margot looked all wide awake and energized. “Have you turned on the news this morning?”
“No. I’m still downing coffee.” She might even order another pot before the morning was through.
“The good news is, he hasn’t commented.” Margot paused. “All we have is the mugshot, the two of you on the front steps of the police station, and how he was released this morning.”
That was it? That didn’t sound like her father, at all. He never passed up the opportunity to earn a dollar—or a moment in the spotlight. Unless he had something waiting in the wings. “I’m…surprised.” She made a face at Margot.
“Let’s just count our blessings,” Margot said. “What do you think of this?” Margot read out the very short and concise statement she’d come up with. “Donnie Gram was arrested for public drunkenness. His daughter, Loretta Gram, paid his bail.” She broke off.
“What about the fact that he was taken back inside after yelling at me then heckling one of the police officers?” Loretta asked, sipping her coffee.
“There were no additional charges filed.” Margot shrugged. “I see no reason to mention it.”
“You’re the boss.” Loretta nodded.
“Am I?” Margot laughed. “How’s everything there?”
“Everything?”
“Travis?” Margot sighed.
“Things got a little complicated last night so…” Loretta shook her head.
“Today is a new day. You make the most of it. And try not to let this thing with Donnie get you down.” She waved. “Break a leg tonight.”
“Will do.” Loretta blew kisses and hung up her phone.
Todayisa new day. But nothing had changed—not really. They’d do a rehearsal and sound check around three. Have time for dinner. Hair and makeup and getting ready for the show at nine. She and Travis would sing their four songs together and she’d act like she wasn’t falling for him—because being in love with Travis King was the stupidest thing she could do. Not just for her, but for him too. After the final ensemble encore, they’d climb into their buses and make the overnight ride to Phoenix. A lonely, too quiet bus ride that would lead her back around to all the reasons she was bad for Travis, why they’d never work out, and why she couldn’t love him—even if she wanted to.
She eyed her bed, still made up and tidy except for the pillow she’d used. If she wanted to, she could take a nap. She should take a nap. It was going to be a long day and, even though the thing with her father wasn’t as cataclysmic as she’d anticipated, the day was still young. But, even with the black-out curtains pulled and the REM-inducing sounds playing on her phone, she couldn’t stop tossing and turning.
When she threw back the covers, she turned on her favorite baking show, dug out some bright red glitter nail polish, and drew herself a bubble bath. It wasn’t as glamorous as the spa day she, Margot, Emmy Lou, and Krystal had, but it provided a few hours of distraction.
The Vivint Smart Home Arena was already buzzing with preshow activity. It was one of Loretta’s favorite times to poke around. Right now, the anticipation was high. All sorts of positive energy to draw from.
Exactly what I need.
“Hey, Loretta.” Emmy Lou was sitting on the edge of the stage. It didn’t matter that they were just rehearsing; Emmy Lou always looked ready to walk onstage. Her hair was perfect. Long, golden curls that fell down her back with no hint of frizz. She went with light makeup, almost an au naturel look. If her makeup was au naturel, her style was extra girly-girl. A pink V-neck shirt with puff sleeves, white fitted jeans, a hand-tooled belt with her and Brock’s pet name “Bremmy” cut into the belt band, and tan and pink leather boots that had just enough sparkle to catch the eye.
“Hi.” Loretta smiled, feeling way underdressed next to Emmy Lou. Hair done, makeup, nails newly painted and shiny, and a favorite navy blue belted shirtdress and broken-in brown leather boots. It was only since this tour had started that she’d put much effort into her rehearsal attire. Not to compete with Emmy Lou, there was no competing with Emmy Lou, but to look nice. For herself. And, maybe, for Travis.
She sighed, doing as covert a sweep of the stage as possible.
“They’re not here.” Krystal walked onto the stage, holding her guitar. She wore black and purple leggings, an oversized black sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder, and her hair was in a barely holding bun. “Travis or Sawyer. Oh, hey, Loretta. Have you heard from Travis?”
“No.” Not today. She might have ignored his text and his phone call last night after the whole disaster with her father, but she’d had to. Her father yelling, “You’re a coldhearted bitch I’m ashamed to call my daughter,” had felt like a slap in the face. She’d wanted comfort so much it hurt. And Travis… Well, Travis was Travis. If she’d answered him, she’d have gotten comfort and so much more. It would have totally invalidated the last few weeks of distance she’d put between them.
“They’re not answering my calls.” Krystal was frowning. “Or my texts.”
“It’ll be okay.” Jace slid his arm around her waist. “They’ll be okay.”
But even Loretta could tell he was worried.
“Did something happen?” she asked, then backtracked. “Does this… I mean, I’m sorry about my father. If this—”
“No, no.” Emmy Lou shook her head. “Oh, Loretta. I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible person. I should have checked on you first thing this morning.” She stood. “Are you all right?”
Loretta nodded. “I’m fine. But if this has caused a problem—”
