“Yes, that Bill Jenkins,” Daniel said, standing from his seat. “So have something ready.”
Jack swallowed, because that was the problem. He had nothing ready. Nothing at all. Dread shot down his spine and landed inside his legs. Feeling the weight of a thousand rejections resting on his shoulders, he grabbed a cloth and began wiping down counters, intent on finishing the mundane part of his job before the entire purpose for his existence began. He worked here for one reason and one reason only: because this place was where many of Nashville’s heavy hitters had worked before fame came knocking. Jack figured it was only a matter of time before the same thing happened to him. At least he hoped time would be that kind. Then again, he knew of many who’d spent entire lives waiting tables and passing out beer only to find twenty years had passed without a single nod of encouragement by anyone who mattered.
Jack often prayed he wouldn’t be relegated to the same fate.
But now that Bill Jenkins was showing up, he feared he just might be.
Two hours and three songs later, Jack tossed his apron on a hook by the back entrance and walked into the stale night air. Even outside, the area smelled of cheap alcohol and day-old urine. A sad state of affairs considering this was one of the nicest bars in town, situated in an upscale neighborhood and catering to Nashville’s finest. Then again, a bar’s a bar. Some just didn’t know when to stop. Jack stepped around a particularly disturbing patch of wetness and opened the door to his Honda Accord.
That’s when he spotted the paper plastered against his windshield.
He frowned, then leaned forward and grabbed it. He turned the bar napkin over in his hand, studying the way the black words written on it bled through to the other side. He scanned them and scanned them again, his pulse picking up speed as realization dawned.
Lyrics. They were lyrics. Only four lines, but some of the best four lines he’d ever had the privilege of reading. For a split second he thought of April; wondered if they could be hers. But the words were clever. Engaging. Definitely the start of something that could be a hit. He’d read plenty of April’s lyrics. These definitely weren’t hers.
Jack looked over his shoulder and stuffed the napkin in his pocket. Have something ready, Daniel had said. And like an answer to prayer, these words practically fell from heaven and landed on his car. Jack wasn’t the kind to reject small favors, so as soon as he got home, he would get started.
He’d come up with something if it took all night.
Three years later
“I just don’t see why it matters,” April said, trying to remain diplomatic. Trying not to unleash a torrent of words all over her sister’s head. “The dresses are yellow, Kristin. Yellow. It’s not like pink clashes with it, so who cares?”
Her sister’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed to resemble hot, burned pumpkin seeds. April had never seen eyes shrink and change that fast. Clearly one of them cared.
“Who cares? Doesn’t matter?” Her sister’s arms flew upward, automatically tossing the volume of her voice higher with it. “I asked the wedding coordinator to keep the color pink out of this wedding, and I meant out of it. It’s so cliché. It’s so overdone. It’s so generic.”
April didn’t think now was the time to point out that all those words meant exactly the same thing. She bit her lip and commanded the grammar nerd inside her to shut up.
“When we were little, pink was your favorite color, so maybe it’s a sign.”
Kristin glared at her. “A sign of what—that I’m no longer four years old? Thanks a lot for pointing out that I’m getting old.”
One—Kristin was twenty-five. Exactly three years older than April.
Two—this conversation was stupid.
But Kristin didn’t think so. “I’m so angry with her right now I could scream!”
Which was exactly what she was doing. April glanced behind her to see people all over the Target parking lot staring at them. She gave a little wave and a pathetic smile and turned back to her sister.
“Well then, the good news is the coordinator quit so you’ll be able to avoid any more screaming for today. There’s always an upside.”