Page 86 of Just a Client

WILSON

“So how are you holding up with all this?” Cameron pressed a kiss to my cheek and leaned into me. I wrapped an arm around her, my heart stuttering in my chest as it always did when I touched her.

I took stock. The party was in full swing, the dance floor crowded, people laughing and talking, BBQ being eaten, beer and wine flowing.

“The party is a success. I’d say the town has forgiven me.”

“They forgave you after the first dozen dunks you took without turning into a raving asshole. This is the icing on a really exceptional apology sundae and a new annual tradition, if you want.”

“Maybe ask me that tomorrow or next week after I’ve recovered.”

“Sure. And your sister?”

Ah, the elephant in the room—or the party tent, as the case may be. Not that I could see her. I ignored how nervous that made me. She was a grown woman. An adult. She would find her way. I had. And she could do worse than a fling with Atley Rivers. Oh, wait, she had. Over a decade with Matthew Taylor—pretentious prick.

“I’m not sure. But Elmer is a great place to figure out the second half of your life. So I’m cautiously optimistic.” I cupped Cameron’s cheek and tipped her head so I could kiss her. The kiss wasn’t hot and heavy, but slow and deep. The public display of affection was impressive enough to elicit a couple of wolf whistles from a few of the Beautiful Hills property management crew members who stood nearby.

I waved to the guys. The last time we’d played darts, I broke even. Darts weren’t the only thing I’d been practicing. And it was almost time to show off my new skills and impress my woman. Oh yeah, Cameron was mine, and I was counting the days until she officially moved to the ranch and I could wake up with her in my arms every morning.

“Hellooooo, Elmer! Happy Fourth, y’all!” The mayor’s amplified voice ricocheted around the tent. She’d volunteered to MC tonight’s festivities—to be honest, it was more like demanded. She wore an American flag shirt festooned with rhinestones, denim capri pants, and rubber slip-on clogs that she’d painted with blue glitter specially for the event. Her shoes left trails of blue sparkles everywhere she walked all night.

“What is Grandma up to?” Cameron asked.

“You’ll see.” I loved surprising Cameron, and this was a big one. I couldn’t believe I’d pulled it off. The mayor wasn’t a great conspirator. Loose lips sink ships, and the mayor’s flapped like a flag in a hurricane. Hot damn, look at me working those extended southern similes like a real Texan. Elmer was rubbing off on me.

“I’ve got a treat for y’all courtesy of Wilson Phillips and Blue Star Ranch. For your listening and dancing pleasure. Here he is, the Honky Tonk Man himself.” The mayor clopped offstage, blue shoes sparkling, as the lights dimmed and strobes of red and blue lit the tent ceiling.

I extended my hand to Cameron, about to ask her to dance.

“Oh. My. Lord. Oh, sweet baby Jesus. I’m, I’m, I’m going to faint!” In the pause before the music started, Wanda’s shrill cries drew every eye. For an older lady, she had a set of pipes on her. “It’s Dwight! It’s Dwight!” Wanda pushed her glasses up and wiped an actual tear from her eye as she collapsed into a chair at the edge of the dance floor.

I started to rush to Wanda’s aid, but a bevy of bunco ladies beat me to it. One fanned Wanda’s flushed face with a napkin. Another pressed a cold beer to the inside of her limp wrist.

“You got Dwight Yoakam to play?” Cameron asked, her jaw slack as she looked from the near-swooning Wanda to me.

I could only nod in reply as Dwight’s band started playingGuitars, Cadillacs,one of their all-time classic hits, and he rushed onstage to thunderous applause.

I held out my hand again. Cameron took it with a wrinkled brow. As far as she knew, I didn’t dance, at least not well, and not when sober. But that had changed. I had skills.

Leading her onto the floor, I twirled her out and back into my arms. Finding the song’s rhythm, I seamlessly led us into the flow of dancers two-stepping around the floor in a clockwise path. No toes were stepped on, and I never once looked at our feet. My dance instructor, who was here somewhere pretending not to know me, would be impressed.

And Cameron, judging by her expression, was too.

I’d dreamed of this moment since I’d watched her two-step with Jameson, one of the Blue Star ranch hands, at the Arts and Oddities Festival. When she’d danced with him that day, I wanted to punch the cowboy and take his place but knew deep down I couldn’t because I had zero skill on the dance floor and no claim to Cameron. Well, no more. I was now her dance partner, and I wouldn’t be letting go. Not tonight. Not ever.

The concert was a rousing success. For a man well into his sixties, Dwight put on a hell of a show. Everyone from the baby boomers to the Gen Z-ers, including Bailey, were toe tapping, dancing, and singing along. If I wanted to top this, next year I’d need Garth Brooks or Taylor Swift.

Thanks to the mayor wanting to make a constituent’s dreams come true. Wanda, when recovered from her swoon, joined Dwight on stage to help him sing his famous cover of Elvis’s “Suspicious Minds.” Dwight spent most of the song trying to keep Wanda from groping him. Everywhere I looked, people had their phones out, recording Wanda’s moment of glory for all time.

“Looks like Wanda’s serenade will live on in infamy every Fourth of July,” I whisper-shouted to Cameron.

She couldn’t resist snapping a few Dwight and Wanda photos for her own blackmail collection.

After three encores, including a sing-along version of Johnny Cash’sRing of Firethat had the whole town joining in, Dwight finally said goodnight and happy Fourth of July to Elmer.

Before the lighting in the tent returned to normal, people surrounded Cameron and me, thanking us for the night. From the food to the music, it thrilled them to be included. In LA, it would never have been like this. People would have nitpicked, complained, and criticized. In Elmer, people lived and enjoyed.

Elmer was the best little town in Texas.

---