Page 80 of Nashville Cowboy
“No. If I were you, I’d stay clear of Eve. Stayhere.”
Jackson went inside, grabbed a set of truck keys, and called out to Mima, “Tell Eve I’ll be right back.”
He heaved all of Winona’s luggage in the bed of the truck, and when she still stood nearby simply observing his efforts, he opened the passenger side door and unceremoniously waved her inside.
With a huff, she climbed in, adjusted her seat belt, and he shut the door.
Rolling down the hill, the truck’s wheels kicking up dirt, he had a mind to tell Winona never to look him up again. Lose his number. Forget his face. But in the music business, contacts were important. You couldn’t burn bridges. Winona still had a large following in Nashville. She hadn’t had a hit for a couple of years, but he figured she’d just taken some time off and was probably in the studio working on something new. She was a regular presenter at the CMA Awards shows and knew a lot of Nashville royalty. But he still wasn’t going to bow to her whims. He never had and wasn’t about to start now.
“Don’t you have a hotel in town?” she asked.
“We used to have one in town, but it closed down. Kerrville’s about a forty-minute drive.”
“Wow, y’all really are in the boondocks.” When he didn’t chuckle along with her, she said, “Sorry. I don’t like small towns.”
“You might like Stone Ridge.”
“Yeah, I saw some signs coming into town. Is that some kind of a joke?”
“Nope.”
“Why do women eat free at Papi’s?”
“Because we don’t have many of them.”
“Get out of here! What happened to the women?”
He shrugged. “There seems to be a shortage.”
“Hmm,” Winona said, and he could almost hear her wheels spinning.
They rode in blessed silence for a few minutes. Of course, Winona wouldn’t let that last. “Can we talk soon?”
“The wedding’s over now so I have a little more time.”
“My manager and I’ve got a lot of stuff in the pipeline. Shows, even working on a possible Netflix special. A movie made from one of my songs! But I mainly wanted to discuss an important venture where I need the best partner I can find. Come by the hotel tomorrow night, and I’ll get us room service. We can catch up on old times.”
“I’ll meet you in the hotel restaurant. Not going up to your room.”
“Can’t resist me, huh?”
“I can.” He said this through gritted teeth.
Even though Mima was not fond of the woman that he’d married and divorced within less than six months, she had raised Jackson better than to drop off any woman at a curb. So, dutifully, he walked her inside and waited until she was able to get a room. Winona immediately got recognized by some of the staff, who fawned over her, asked for her autograph, took selfies, and managed to somehow find her a vacancy on the penthouse floor.
He sat on the lobby’s sofa, legs crossed at the ankles, Stetson tipped, until Winona waved him over. “Yeah?”
The hotel clerk grinned. “It is you. Y’all were so cute together. Wish you’d never been divorced. You make such a cute couple!”
“That’s what I keep tellin’ him,” Winona said, handing over her black Amex card. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll give me another chance.”
“Oh, how sweet,” the clerk said, hand on her heart.
That wouldn’t happen in a million years, evenifthere was no Eve Iglesias. But there was, and he didn’t want or need anyone else. The concierge gathered Winona’s luggage and she turned expectantly to Jackson.
“This is where we say goodbye.”
“You mean good night,” Winona said, giving a little wave. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart!”
