She felt awful. But guilt meant vulnerability, and she had a policy against weakness of any sort. So she said, “Doesn’t she pay someone to do that for her?”
The rich, familiar voice came from behind her. “I most emphatically do not.”
Chapter
26
AnnieLee froze in dread.
Then, her shoulders hunched up as if she was expecting a blow, she turned around. Ruthanna Ryder was standing a foot away from her in a gold lamé blouse, high wedge sandals, and skintight jeans, her long red-gold hair cascading down her back. In that dim bar, she almost seemed to glow from within.
Now that was what you called imperial, AnnieLee thought, awed.
“I can see I’ve startled you,” Ruthanna said, “by the way your jaw’s hanging open like a dying trout’s. Don’t worry, though, AnnieLee. My skin’s grown real thick over the years, and you’ll have to work a lot harder to offend me.”
AnnieLee shut her mouth and swallowed. “Hello, Ms. Ryder.”
“I don’t know why I have to keep coming downtown to see you, though,” Ruthanna said.
Fearlessness, AnnieLee reminded herself. Don’t give yourself away.
Her posture straightened. “Well, it is a good idea to come to your own bar,” she said, trying to sound jaunty and playful. “You can keep an eye on your employees. Make sure they’re treating the talent right.” She gave Billy a sly look.
“Oh, git, you pint-sized smart-ass,” he said.
“I told you not to call me small,” AnnieLee warned.
“Clearly you two get along just fine,” Ruthanna said. “Anyway, AnnieLee, I knew you were playing tonight, and I came down here to have a listen—and a word with you.”
AnnieLee could hardly believe that one of the most successful musicians in the history of the business had troubled herself to come to see her for a second time. But pride and stubbornness made her thrust up her chin. “I’m honored, ma’am, and I hope you’ll forgive me for saying that you know how I feel about your ‘get out of Nashville’ advice,” she said.
Ruthanna leaned against the bar. “When someone doesn’t appreciate my advice the first time, I’m not dumb enough to give it again. I don’t waste my breath like that, not when there’s songs to be sung. Or French fries to be eaten.” She reached over and plucked a handful from AnnieLee’s basket.
“I heard you weren’t supposed to have those,” Ethan said.
“I’m not. What are you going to do about it?”
Ethan threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Absolutely nothing.”
Ruthanna turned back to AnnieLee. “Listen,” she said. “Everybody needs an ally. And the more powerful that ally is, the better.”
AnnieLee took a deep breath, waiting for what Ruthanna would say next. Was it possible that she meant to help AnnieLee for real now? Or was this some kind of trick—a new, backhanded way to run her out of Dodge? Flustered, she tried to meet her idol’s cool, green-eyed gaze and failed.
“I didn’t get where I am alone, AnnieLee,” Ruthanna said. “A lot of people helped me along the way. Some of them did it because they loved me, and some did it because they knew they’d make money from me. I’m not saying that I couldn’t’ve done it without them, but it would’ve taken a whole lot longer. So you, little firecracker, you can keep on begging and sweating, just like you’re doing, and I’m sure you’ll make it somewhere. It might be just the second stage at Tootsie’s, though. Or it could be top billing at the Cat’s Paw. The CMAs might never be anything more than a wish you make on a falling star. Or on another damn birthday cake, one that’s got so many candles on it you could use it to roast marshmallows. So what I’m saying—”
“The CMAs?” AnnieLee sputtered, interrupting Ruthanna’s speech. “I might as well wish to sprout a horn and turn into a unicorn.”
Ruthanna cocked her head and laughed. “Well, all right, if that’s what you think. But I’m sure you could use a break from the dive bar hustle.”
“Billy wouldn’t know what to do without me, though,” AnnieLee said, loud enough for the bartender to hear as he walked by. He grunted and swiped some fries out of her basket.
“I’m not saying you can’t keep playing here,” Ruthanna said. “Or anywhere else that’ll have you, if that’s what you want to do.”
“AnnieLee’s starting to get a reputation, you know,” Ethan told her. “I heard her called the Princess of Printers Alley the other day.”