AnnieLee moved toward the door. She didn’t know where Patsy’s was, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask.
“Just take those leaves out of your hair before you walk in,” the woman called after her.
Flushing, AnnieLee pulled a tiny twig from the park that’d gotten caught in her dark waves. “Thanks,” she said tartly, and dropped it on the sidewalk outside the Dew Drop.
After only a few wrong turns, she found Patsy’s and began to make her inquiry, but before she’d finished, the bartender interrupted and told her to put her CD on the bar.
“My what?”
He didn’t answer; he’d moved away to help an actual customer.
A lady in cat-eye glasses and bright-pink lipstick leaned over and poked AnnieLee in the forearm. “Your demo, hon,” she said.
“My what?” AnnieLee said again. She knew she wasn’t what anyone would call worldly, but she was starting to feel like there was a whole heck of a lot she didn’t know about the way things worked in Nashville.
“Most people who want to play here leave a CD they’ve made—you know, with them playing their music?” The woman pointed to a tall stack of CDs leaning on a counter behind the bar.
“Does anyone actually listen to them?” AnnieLee asked. They looked dustier than the picture frames at the Cat’s Paw.
“Who knows? But it’s like a calling card, sweetheart. You oughta get one.”
“Okay, thanks,” AnnieLee said. She’d add it to the list of things she needed, right behind a hot meal, a bed, a shower, and a guitar. “Can you recommend another spot for me to try?” she asked. “Someplace small—a bit out-of-the-way, maybe?”
The woman scribbled a few names on a bar napkin and then pushed it toward AnnieLee.
“Here you go,” she said. “You’re real pretty and you’ve got a nice figure, so you might have a little luck.”
Is that what matters around here? AnnieLee thought.
“Then again,” the woman went on, “you might not.” She pulled a long, gold-filtered cigarette from a pack and put it between her lips without lighting it. “And if it seems like all those folks are trying to stop you from getting anywhere, hon, that’s because they are. They’re the gatekeepers, whether they deserve to be or not, and they don’t want anyone but the best and brightest coming through.”
“Separating the wheat from the chaff,” AnnieLee said. The Gospel according to Matthew had been her mother’s favorite.
“Mm-hmm. If you want to make it in this town,” the woman went on, “being talented is just one little tiny part of the battle. Fearlessness is mandatory. And shamelessness sure as hell don’t hurt.”
AnnieLee nodded. “You’ve been really helpful,” she said. “I hope I get to sing for you someday.”
“Oh, I bet you will, sweetie. I see hunger in your eyes.”
“Yeah, literal and figurative,” AnnieLee said. “Thanks again.”
Outside, she closed her eyes and leaned against the sun-warmed brick building. She told herself that she wasn’t discouraged. She knew she was going to have to knock on a lot of doors, and it was only to be expected that some of them would get slammed in her face.
After another moment’s rest, she righted herself and started walking toward the next watering hole. She thought of her stepdad, lurching from dive bar to dive bar, trying to remember which place hadn’t eighty-sixed him.
Just like him, she needed a bar desperately. Not for a drink, though: for a chance.
Chapter
12
But it wasn’t desperation that took AnnieLee back to the Cat’s Paw Saloon two nights later. It was loneliness.
Not that she cared to admit it to herself.
She slid into the cool, dim bar well after sundown. Dirty ol’ Ray was nowhere to be seen. The stage was empty; Carrie Underwood sang softly on the radio. AnnieLee was relieved to see Billy polishing glasses behind the bar. She hopped onto a stool near the soda gun and waited for him to notice her.
When he did, he looked as though he was actually glad to see her. “The songbird returns,” he said.
“I thought you were going to say, ‘Look what the cat dragged in,’” AnnieLee said. She didn’t think she had any leaves in her hair tonight, but it’d been a long time since she’d seen the inside of a shower stall.
He laughed. “I don’t keep my job by being rude to guests of my establishment.”
What if the guests aren’t paying customers? she wondered but didn’t say.