Page 7 of My UnTrue Love
“He didn’t!” She insisted, translating that sound to be a vehement disagreement. Bill talked a lot, if you listened. “The album’s success has gone to his head.” She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Maybe he’ll eventually snap out of it.”
“You ain’t going back to him.” Bill made it sound like a certainty.
Itwasa certainty. There had to be trust between a muse and the artist she chose to work with. Once that was gone, no more art could be created between them. And she no longer trusted Johnny. Some part of her had gone cold to him forever.
Clementine sniffed back tears, because The Yellow Roses had been her home and now she had none. “Um…” She forced herself to concentrate on the bigger issue. “So, if you don’t want to join a new band, maybe you could book some solo gigs.”
Bill lazily shrugged. “Fine.”
Where, though? Bill wasn’t great at making connections and the music business was about people. “Rosalee is the band’s manager. I can talk to her. It would only be fair if she helped you establish yourself, considering…”
Bill cut her off. “Nope.”
“You don’t like working with Rosalee either?”
“Nope.”
“You used to.” The words were out before she could stop them. “When she first arrived, you flirted with her.”
Rosalee was the only other person Clementine had ever seen him want to interact with. It had bothered her to watch him talking to such a sophisticated woman. Somewhere along the line, Clem had come to view Pecos Bill ashers.
Bill straightened away from the porch post and moved closer. “I got no dreams of Rosalee. You have my word.”
Clementine lifted a shoulder, feeling sorry for herself. “She’s very pretty.” A willowy, old-money, dark-haired beauty, who would never, ever be mistaken for a saloon girl. Not likeClementine so often was. As with most muses, Clem was all curves and curls and over-the-top femininity.
She puffed out a breath, looking down at her own plump body. She couldn’t be sophisticated, in a million years of trying.
“Clem, I don’t like Rosalee.” Bill repeated firmly. “I don’t like that she undercuts your authority.” His voice went harsher than usual. “I don’t like that Johnnyletsher.”
“Rosalee has a lot of experience in the business.” At least that’s what Clementine tried to tell herself, whenever she’d felt slighted.
“Johnny’s fucking her.”
Clementine blinked, both at the news and the blunt wording. “He is?” She made a face. “Well, shows what I know. I thought he was interested in Susannah Alabama.”
“He’s fucking her, too. On the sly, so Rosalee won’t find out.”
“No! Really?” Clem was a little bit scandalized by that news.
“Yep. I seen their text messages.Youwanna see ‘em? I took some screenshots, just in case.”
“In case of what? You decide to blackmail him?” She was kidding, but Bill answered her seriously.
“‘Corse not. Why, Johnny doesn’t have a single thing I want. …Not anymore.” His mouth curved a bit. “I just find it useful to have information that folks would rather I didn’t have. I’m a curious soul.”
Clem supposed that made sense. Bill was an artist and artists were always questioning. “Well, their whole triangle isnot going to end well. It’s exactly why a manager shouldn’t sleep with her clients. It muddles everything. Don’t you think?”
“Depends on if she’s the one.”
“If she’s his True Love, you mean?” Clementine considered that, unsurprised by Bill’s romantic thought. He was so sensitive. “I guess shecouldbe Johnny’s True Love. That would make a difference, yes. But that would make him fooling around with Susannah Alabama even worse.”
“Rosalee’s not his True Love. Coyotes steal True Loves, so we’re good at sniffing out who a girl belongs to.”
Clementine rolled her eyes at that tall tale.
Bill arched a brow at her doubtful expression. “Don’t believe me, huh?”
She shook her head. “True Loves don’t get ‘stolen.’ They’re thrilled with their destined mate.”
