“Cheers.” Quickly, he nodded as the heat settled onto his cheeks. Taking a big gulp of his drink, he was uncomfortably aware of the bulge in his jeans that kept growing. Her flirty toast full of innuendos was not helping his situation.
Her face grimaced from her first sip, and she blinked her eyes rapidly.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
She rolled her eyes humorously shaking her head. “A little heavy on the ginny-juice. Wow!”
“You want me to send it back?”
“No, I’m okay. Once the ice melts a little bit, it’ll be perfect.” Her sweet smile sent a shiver up his spine. She set the drink on the bar and swiveled the stool to look straight at him. “So, where do you live now and what do you do exactly?”
Clay thought everyone from Lakeside High School knew what he did for a living. After graduation, he made a bee-line for Nashville skipping out on the whole college experience. His goal in life ever since he was old enough to pick and strum the strings of a guitar was to live in Nashville and create music. He was the classic “starving artist” in the country music capital for those first five years after high school graduation, playing dive bars and soliciting every label on music row with his demo tapes. When one of his songs piqued the interest of a certain Grammy-award-winning country artist and was released on the radio to rave reviews, his career suddenly took off. In the last few years, he had won numerous awards of his own for original songs and collaborations with other artists. It was a dream-come-true. He was never pretentious about his success, preferring to be in the background and not in the spotlight.
His songs were in high demand, the bonus of which was he never had to worry about money ever again. One song in particular, garnished him more revenue than he knew what to do with when it hit number one on the Billboard charts. It even earned him his very first Grammy, CMA, and American Music Award. Since then, it seemed like everyone in the music biz wanted to record a Clay Watkins tune. He had been dubbed “Georgia Clay” by the diehard country fans, his fame and notoriety taking him by surprise.
After his daddy passed, he had deliberately taken a break from the insanity, secluding himself in his Nashville flat, visiting his mother in Atlanta at her retirement home or spending weeks at a time at the lake house he had bought for his family in North Georgia. He needed to slow down and get back to his songwriting roots and reflect on where he was in his life. When the invitation for the reunion was forwarded to him from the high school, he thought, “why not?” and threw caution to the wind, driving the four hours from Tennessee to Decatur to socialize for the first time in months. It surprised him that so many of his former classmates recognized him, some of them star-struck by his fame in the country music business. He didn’t mind signing a few autographs or taking a couple of selfies. But when the married gals started hanging on his every word with little hearts popping over their heads, he decided he should probably bow out for the night. Running into Katie interrupted that plan, much to his delight.
“Well, I’m a songwriter,” he said quietly, licking his lower lip after taking a hefty swig of whiskey.
“Like, that’s your real profession? Writing songs?” Katie asked looking at him with interest.
“Well, yeah.”
He watched the corners of her pink lips curve into a smile. “I knew it!”
Clay was humored by her enthusiasm. “Really? You barely knew me. How could you know I was going to be a songwriter?”
She shook her head and her eyes seemed to glisten. “I remember you performing at the variety show during our last week as seniors. You played and sang a song that you wrote yourself. It was pretty unforgettable.”
His neck felt hot again, and he picked up his drink to take a quick sip. “Unforgettable? Why? Did I make a complete fool of myself?” His stomach dropped as he waited for her response. For some reason, it really mattered to him what she thought.
“It was…awesome,” she sighed dreamily. “I knew that night that you were going to do something special with your music. You definitely had more talent than anyone else who got up there.” She erupted in a bout of tipsy giggles as if reminiscing about a more innocent time in their lives. “So, do you sell your songs? How does it work exactly?”
He shrugged not wanting to talk about himself and the music business. He wanted to get to know her. “Yep. You play a song for someone or send them a demo. Either they like it and buy the rights to record it, or they don’t.” Draining the last of his whiskey, the ice clinked in his glass and he made eye contact with the bartender indicating he wanted another.
Katie sipped on her cocktail demurely looking over the edge of the glass watching his every move.
“I’d like to know what you’ve been up to since graduation,” he said softly, gazing into her eyes. He was trying to play it cool, thankful for the warm buzz from the liquor that filtered through his hot blood.
Her gaze left him as she fingered the damp cocktail napkin in front of her. “I went to Georgia State and graduated with a business degree. I got lucky after graduation and was hired at a big insurance firm in Atlanta, worked my way up the corporate ladder and live a pretty comfortable life.” Her brown eyes met his. “Nothing extraordinary, like you.”
Clay sucked in a breath and was about to say something when Katie’s best friend interrupted them.
“Here you are!” Stacey was obviously tipsy, her crimson cheeks and bloodshot eyes an indication that she was feeling no pain. She had Katie’s blazer in her hands and laid it over the bar stool next to them. Slinging her arm over Katie’s shoulder, she leaned her blonde head on hers and eyed him inquisitively. “How are you, Clay Watkins? I heard you’re something else in Nash-Vegas.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Stacey’s perfect eyebrow arched as she stared at him. Katie pulled back from her friend grasping her by the cheeks. “Where’s Brent? Do I need to come back into the ballroom to be with you?”
Stacey smirked. “Noooo… I’m great. Had a couple of shots and danced my ass off.” She suddenly leaned into Katie’s ear and Clay could overhear her whisper, “We’re going back to his hotel room now. Are you good hanging with Georgia Clay here?”
She nodded with wide eyes.
“Yee-haw! Y’all have a good time tonight. I know I will!” She planted a sloppy kiss on Katie’s cheek before leaning in and grazing Clay’s cheek with a kiss as well. “Have fun, Cowboy,” she whispered before slapping him on the back. “I’ll call you tomorrow Katie-bear! Wish me luck!”
The two of them watched Stacey maneuver her way through the tables and chairs in her high heels to the lobby where Brent was waiting. He threw his large hand into the air and waved before pulling Stacey into his body and they disappeared into the night.
“Is your friend okay?”
