CAROLINE WAS CURLED up on her new couch the next day, running her hand over the soft leathery fabric. She’d spent one last night at her sister’s house, only to be woken at two in the morning by Ellie and a few of her friends’ raucous laughter. It had gone on so late that Caroline hadn’t fallen back asleep until six o’clock and almost missed her alarm to let the movers in. When she’d arrived at the apartment, Gabe was gone, but the truck had arrived right on time.
Looking around the blank walls, she thought about checking out the thrift stores and maybe even an art studio. It would be nice to bring in some artwork to match the colors in the coffee table and the rest of the furniture. She’d already picked up sheets for her new bed and some other things at Target, and after unpacking her meager belongings into her new dresser drawers, she was eager to get out and do something.
What she should be doing was promoting the consulting business she was trying to get off the ground. She’d already been getting plenty of interest online—especially from several bars in Chicago and New York—but she also wanted to work locally, which meant hitting up the local bars and pitching her abilities.
After a brief shower, she threw on a tunic sweater and a pair of comfy jeans with her tennis shoes. It was April in Idaho, and the weather was unpredictable; by the looks of the dark clouds rolling in, she assumed rain was coming their way. She grabbed her business-card holder, figuring she’d stop off at Hank’s Bar—since it was right on the Main Street—before she shopped for décor.
She stopped by Chloe’s Book Nook first, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. She definitely wasn’t over the mistake Gemma and her husband had made, but she was in such a good mood, she was willing to overlook it. The bell over the door dinged as she entered, and Gemma stopped talking to another woman to glance her way, blinking behind a pair of black-framed glasses.
“Hey, Caroline. How are you?”
“Fine. Just stopping in to see what you’ve got,” Caroline said, smiling at the other woman. “Hey, I’m Caroline Willis.”
The woman brushed dishwater blonde hair out of her face, the wild ringlets a hair dresser’s nightmare. She took Caroline’s hand and said softly, “I’m Callie Jacobsen. I host the morning show down at the local radio station. Kat Country.”
Suddenly, the woman was a hell of a lot more interesting, and Caroline beamed. “Awesome. I am starting a consulting company targeting bars, honky-tonks, and nightclubs. Maybe I could come in and talk a little bit about my experience and what I do. Do you mind if I give you my card?” Before Callie could open her mouth to say anything, Caroline added, “And I could probably swing a sit-down interview with Jax Dillon.”
“Jax Dillon? He’s—”
Caroline had the DJ’s attention now. “Yeah, Jax is predicted to become bigger than Tim McGraw and not just for his hard-partying ways and crowd-pleasing hits. I met Jax six years ago. He played in the bar I was renovating before he got picked up by Big Machine. Jax is a great guy, down-to-earth. We became friends, both of us from small towns, and he is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet,” Caroline said with a secret smile. “We keep in touch.”
The two women exchanged a look, Callie probably assuming Caroline had slept with Jax, but the truth was, despite the smooth-talkin’ Texan’s attempts to charm his way into her pants, she’d said no. As much as she’d liked Jax, she just hadn’t felt that zing she usually did when the chemistry was rocking.
Like what I feel with the bad boy sharing my living space?
She wanted to slap the stupid voice in her head for even suggesting that. Thinking a man is hot and feeling a zing were two different things.
“If you can swing it, you’ve got yourself a deal, but I would have given you air time regardless.”
Callie’s words sank in, and Caroline blushed, something she rarely did. The words were spoken so softly
, they were almost a reprimand, as if Callie was trying to say that Caroline didn’t need to bribe anyone or use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted.
But she was wrong. Everyone wanted something.
“I appreciate that,” Caroline said, handing over the card she’d fished out of her purse.
Gemma piped up. “Oh, you should head over to Buck’s tonight. Travis is doing a show, and it’ll be packed. You can network and give Eric Henderson your pitch.”
Caroline smiled. Eric worked for her family when he was a teenager, doing yard work and such. She didn’t think she’d have any problem convincing him that he needed her services.
Still grateful for the tip, Caroline warmed a little more toward Gemma. “Thanks.”
“Also, Hank’s is a few doors down and pretty quiet this time of day. You should stop off there too,” Callie suggested.
“I’ll do that. Thanks for the help, ladies. I’m also looking for a cute place to get some inexpensive paintings and knick-knacks.”
Gemma’s face lit up. “Oh, I love Canyon Classics down the street. They have some great stuff, but if it’s not what you’re looking for, you could take the ten-minute trip to Buhl. There are several little shops I love there.”
Caroline wasn’t sure if she wanted to drive anywhere, but she thanked them just the same. As she walked out the door, she almost plowed right into a couple.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—” She stopped talking once she recognized the icy blue eyes glaring at her with blatant dislike.
Ah, shit. This is gonna be bad.
Shelby’s face was twisted up into a scowl so dark, Caroline was tempted to warn her that it might freeze that way.
“Didn’t anyone tell you that bitches aren’t allowed off leash?” Shelby said, gripping the arm of her companion tightly. Caroline wondered if Shelby was imagining her neck as she squeezed. Probably.