“Whatever.” Elle waved her hand in dismissal. “She’s probably a secret heroin addict.”
That immediately made Jolene feel guilty. She had no reason to trash-talk Tennyson. “Well, that’s not nice. I mean, I don’t think she’s a junkie. I think she just has good genetics and a willpower I am sadly lacking.”
“You’re too nice. Just once I want to hear you call someone a bitch. Then I could die a happy and cynical woman.”
“You call enough people bitches to meet your quota and mine.” She led Elle down the hall into the bedroom. “Now make me look presentable, please.”
Elle pulled a pair of jeans and a sparkly tank top out of the bag and handed them to her. “Don’t you think it looks a little weird that you called your hairdresser over for a songwriting session?”
“You’re my sister. And I’m not going to have you do my hair. I’m just going to discreetly put on a little mascara and maybe a tinted gloss. She’ll never even notice.”
“The hell she won’t. The one who won’t notice is Chance, because he’s a man. Tennyson will absolutely notice.” Elle sat on Chance’s bed while Jolene ripped off her dirty tank and pulled on the fresh one. “By the way, thanks for telling me literally nothing. I have to hear about my sister’s love life online, like everyone else in America. That’s not shitty at all, Jo.”
Jolene flushed. “We were, um, trying to hunker down in our bubble. It wasn’t like I was hiding anything. I just wanted to be alone with Chance and do our thing.”
“So doing your thing is having him attack trolls on the Internet? Showing up unannounced at the Bluebird? Making it clear to all of Nashville that y’all are back on? Yeah, that’s totally discreet.”
Shimmying into the jeans, Jolene decided she could not care less what her sister thought at the moment. She couldn’t leave Chance and Tennyson alone longer than absolutely necessary or little Miss Threesome would be doing God only knew what. “For the record, I appreciate Chance sticking up for me against the haters. That’s what a man should do for his partner.”
“You mean his lover.” Elle snorted. “So much for you insisting you weren’t going to bang Chance on this little songwriting adventure. And by the way, why did you come back here, of all places, when you had a snug cabin in the woods?” She glanced around. “This house is the definition of underdecorated.”
Jolene liked to think the sparseness of his house was because he wasn’t moving on. Wasn’t settling in. “Maybe he wasn’t planning to stay long.”
Elle sighed and stood up again. “I foresee another guitar in the pool in less than a month’s time.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Again,” Jolene snapped, annoyed at her sister despite feeling that she might have a point. She ran a brush through her hair and slapped on the mascara and nude lipstick Elle had brought. “Now stop being such a Debbie Downer and come outside and meet the woman with enough talent to make me well and truly jealous.” Tennyson was a naturally gifted songwriter and Jolene wasn’t, and damn, that was a hard pill to swallow. Sure, it was annoying that Tennyson was thin, but the crux of it was she made Jolene’s songwriting skills and voice feel monstrously inadequate. She didn’t have the range for Tennyson’s best work and they both knew it. Her gift was performance, not perfection of voice.
Jolene’s insecurities were her own problem, though. While she didn’t precisely think Tennyson was flirting with Chance, Jolene thought the woman had an angle for sure. She hadn’t figured it out yet, though her assumption was that Tennyson wanted to further her career, which Jolene couldn’t fault her for. It was smart to take every opportunity afforded you in this business. That didn’t mean she liked her boyfriend laughing and achieving some kind of songwriting simpatico with Miss Chicago, which seemed to be happening as the morning faded into afternoon.
She felt left out. Plain and simple.
“Look who showed up,” she said breezily as she led her sister out onto the back patio. “Tennyson, this is my sister, Elle.”
Tennyson and Chance stopped strumming. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Tennyson stood up and held her hand out for Elle to take.
“Nice to meet you,” Elle said, shaking Tennyson’s hand. “I’m not staying.” She leaned over, her dark hair falling across her face as she petted Dolly’s head. The dog was lazily lying in a sunspot. “I just needed to have Jolene sign something. Now I’m off to a coffee date with someone I met online. I’m sure this one will be as bizarre and soul-sucking as my last three online dates.”