Page 46 of She's My Kind Of Rain

Once we reach the side door of the barn, we walk in a single file line through the door. The moment we enter, Wrangler’s head pops out of his stall. He seems to be more interested in commotion than Rhett’s horse ever seems to be, which is funny because their owner’s dynamics are the opposite.

Sawyer walks up and strokes Wrangler’s mane. “This is my horse, Wrangler, and right next door is the love of his life.” He motions towards the next stall.

“No one here loves anyone more than I love Angel,” Rhett’s words tumble from his lips, while Kaylee nearly chokes on her drink.

The rapid-fire shots of whisky have clearly done a number on Rhett, forcing him to lean against the stall door as he takes another sip of beer, his eyes never leaving our direction.

For a split second, I think Kaylee might let the comment slide, but then I hear the answering sharp release of her breath. “Listen dumbshit, that’s flattering and all, but that is definitely the alcohol talking and I’d say it’s time for someone to cut you off.” She doesn’t deliver a single word of hers softly, and the moment Rhett starts to laugh she looks like she might actuallyhit him, but beneath all of the angst and huffiness, I notice a glimmer of playfulness in her gaze.

Sawyer and I both look at one another, then back at the two of them as the situation unfolds right in front of us.

“Well, now, Angel, I can see how you’d be confused—though I sensed a bit of hope in that outburst of yours—but there’s two Angels in my life, and the one I’m talkin’ about just so happens to be my horse.” He doesn’t give her a chance to reply before adding, “Jealous, much?”

She punches him in the shoulder, but even I can see that the punch isn’t meant to inflict damage. “I’m not your Angel,” she scoffs.

The sly look on his face remains in place. “Then where’s the mix-up?” He jests.

I let out a soft uncomfortable laugh, quickly followed by me covering my mouth. Unlike them, I’ll never be witty enough to stand my ground if either decide to make me their next target in their silly, little games.

Rhett finds humor in my response right away, while it takes Kaylee a moment to come around, but before long, we all begin to laugh.

“Alright, who’s ready for some s’mores?” Sawyer asks.

I nod, slipping my hand in his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

32

SAWYER - JULY 26, 2004

Sleepinghis way to the top.

I never imagined while stopping for gas I’d be staring face to face with myself but there I am right on the front cover of a tabloid magazine.Fuck.The headline alone says it all, and what it’s saying isnotgood. Plastered all over it are pictures of Daisy and I in the alleyway from Saturday night, from our kiss, to her handing me the envelope that contained the very contract I’m on my way to sign. Small subtitles read:A&R Scout or Personal Dating Service?;How to Get Famous Fast!; andThe Downfall to Telluride Records. The cashier clears his throat and I do my best not to look like I just got caught with my pants down, though, quite frankly, I feel that way.

Who the fuck took that?

I think about the moment in the alleyway when I’m interrupted by the attendant. “Uh, pump six right? You owe…” He turns to look at the magazine rack, his eyes barely cracked open, and I stiffen.Please for the love of god do not notice. “Wait, dude, is that you? That’s sick, dude! Is that shit true?”

“What, uh, no.” I answer his first question with a lie, laughing softly because I’m too caught off-guard to make something up,and hoping he’s too stoned to know the difference since he smells like weed.

“Naw, bro, that is def you, dude. That or you have a twin, man.”

My mouth opens, but it’s like my brain doesn’t work anymore. I’m so shocked I can’t even come up with a response. I just want to get the hell out of here.

“What’s the total?” I try my best to shift the conversation so I can pay and leave before more people notice me. The bell to the door dings and both of our attention switches toward the guy who walks in. Unlike the cashier who has spiky hair with white tips, this guy has long shaggy hair. They both sport baggy pants and tie dye shirts, one of which literally has a pot leaf on it.

“Yo, Denny, Dude,” he calls out to the guy he’s clearly friends with. “This guy’s on the magazine cover up here. Take our picture, dude. He’s famous.”

I shake my head, unsure what to say or how to handle this situation. Fuck. I just wanted to get some gas and a damn bottle of water. Is this what I’ll have to look forward to if I take the record deal? I open my wallet, only finding a fifty. There’s no way my bill is gonna cost me that much. But, you know what, if skipping the change will get me out of here faster, then screw it. Tossing the money on the counter, I grab my drink and hastily head toward the door.

“Dude, you forgot your change, bro,” the cashier calls out to me, but I have much bigger issues to deal with, and sticking around here is not going to be one of them.

“Just keep it,” I utter over my shoulder, heading to my vehicle as quickly as possible.

Once seated I flip open my phone. Not a single call or text from anyone, which leads me to believe that I’m the first to see this fucking mess. I thought this day was going to go easy, but, honestly, everything up until this point has been and I shouldhave expected the other shoe to drop. The worst part about this entire thing is that I should have had this conversation with Daisy long before today, but now it’s too late, and if she isn’t already in trouble, she’s about to be.

33

DAISY - JULY 26, 2004

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