Reforming the Cowboy Page 6

  He stood. “Who told you that?”

  “Chip.”

  Billy closed the distance between them in two long strides and towered over her. “What? When?”

  She backed up until the door hit her in the back. “Just now. He said you had to get into the recording studio.”

  And a small part of her understood why he should go. This was his opportunity. This was what Chip meant when he’d pleaded Billy’s case to hire him for this gig.

  Billy touched her bare arm. “And I will, but it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

  “Chip said it was pretty urgent to get you up there.”

  Billy’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and shoved it in his back pocket.

  “Chip?” She asked.

  He nodded.

  She shook her head. “You better take it.” Better for him to get it over with now.

  He studied her face for a moment and then said, “Okay.”

  She returned to her office and eyed the brown bag with the condoms and knew she wouldn’t go through with anything tonight. It hurt to think about him leaving, and they hadn’t done anything more than kiss. And she expected him to go. To take the opportunity. She just wished it didn’t feel like a betrayal.

  Chapter Six

  “We’ve got this.” Beth squeezed Lacey’s hand and then stood as the door opened.

  The two men who entered wore power suits and confident expressions. A deep flush darkened Beth’s neck, and Lacey wondered if she should be worried despite her friend’s comforting words. Beth licked her lips and tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear, revealing a nice-sized diamond stud and reminding Lacey that Beth was rather successful at her profession.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” Beth greeted them with a practiced mixture of polite reservation. “So nice to see you again, Simon.”

  “Beth. Lacey.” Simon gave a curt nod, and despite their friendly chat at the café’s grand opening, Lacey could tell Simon was all business in the boardroom. “My business manager, James Davis. We appreciate you meeting on a holiday, but I’m due on a plane tomorrow and will be out of town for the rest of the month.”

  “Ms. Johnson.” James’s voice fit him perfectly. Lacey thought the man looked like an uptight number cruncher, and the deep sharpness of his tone matched his charcoal suit. “Ms. Durant.”

  When James spent a second longer assessing Beth, Lacey rushed to fill the awkward silence. “Thank you so much for meeting with us.”

  After they settled into the deep leather chairs, Simon said, “I have some reservations regarding the reputation of the café. It used to be a bar, and without a serious remodel, I think customers will be confused as to what they are getting when they enter your café.” His gaze slid to Beth before returning to Lacey’s face. “That’s where James fits in.”

  James gave a curt nod. “While I find the coffeehouse model interesting, I’m concerned about the name. The branding.”

  Lacey glanced at Beth. Why the meeting if they didn’t like her place? They raised her hopes, and then they told her they had concerns. Remodeling and branding. Was there anything they did like? Or did they plan to take over and make a ton of changes. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Maybe she should stick to her bank loan and struggle through the first three years, like most small businesses.

  Beth, in full lawyer mode, slid open her tablet. “Your concerns are understandable, but I know we can work through them. I’m assuming you called this meeting with a proposal in place?”

  One of James’s dark brows arched, and he directed his hawk-like gaze in Beth’s direction. Though the flush remained on Beth’s neck, she met James’ dark stare with one equally as challenging.

  He blinked and said, “Yes. You received a copy of our standard contract?”

  Beth tapped the tablet. “I reviewed it last night.”

  James nodded. “Good. Let’s address the renovations first.”

  Lacey shifted in her seat. Renovations?

  Beth waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Not an issue. My client is eager to embrace the community and run a positive, respectable establishment.”

  The business manager shot a glance at Simon. “So you’re comfortable replacing the dark bar with a lighter counter?”

  Lacey stared at the men. “You want to take out the bar?”

  Simon shook his head. “You only have a beer-and-wine license, not the liquor license needed to sell distilled spirits, and that bar you have implies a certain type of service. We’re just not sure that’s the direction we’d like your café to take, should we invest.”

  She looked at Beth. Beth looked at James.

  James placed both hands on the table. “Your business plan proposes your desire to showcase young, local talent. We’re thinking college-age, and a bar might give the wrong impression. You want them focused on the music and the trendiness of your café.”

  Simon clarified, “We’re focused on branding, and if you want to operate a family-oriented, PG-rated establishment, we need to demolish the bar and get a designer to give the place a trendier feel. Either it’s a bar or a coffee shop, but marketing shows it won’t thrive with an identity crisis.”

  Lacey gaped at the men. Their ideas made sense. “I see what you mean. I don’t want to run a bar. My friend works in one, and the stories she could tell.” She shivered. Three a.m. drunkenness did not appeal to her.

  James scooted back from the table and crossed one ankle over his knee. “Honestly, if we invest, you’ll gain a higher profile, and a family-friendly café will do what your mission statement says,” he read the applicable section, “Become a productive member of the community by fostering friendships and featuring local talent. We know the media will latch onto that.”

  Beth tapped her notes into her tablet, and Lacey nodded in agreement.

  James steepled his fingers and addressed Beth. “Great. Next item. We feel the way the customers perceive Lacey’s needs to be distinguished. I’m not comfortable with Lacey’s Café. It doesn’t lend itself to a particular niche.”

  That sounded reasonable. Lacey’s pulse slowed. She liked how even though James was probably a multimillionaire, he still spoke to Beth with a shrewd intelligence instead of treating her like the blond Barbie she resembled. Beth typed something into her tablet and surprised Lacey when she agreed with James. “I understand completely. I’d love for Lacey’s to be known as the go-to place for discovering fresh talent, but I agree her café needs to match the music inside.”

  James inclined his head. “Yes, and the word café is highly interchangeable, telling the clientele nothing as to the entertainment they will encounter inside.”

  Beth pursed her lips, tapped something on the keyboard, and then said, “We continue to use the word café, but in conjunction with a better adjective.”

  Simon passed Beth a single sheet of paper.

  Beth read it.

  Lacey squinted to read it.

  Finally Beth passed the paper to her.

  Lacey’s Concert Café.

  Black letters swirled with muted pink highlights and a white spotlight drawn on the L-side shone over the letters. It was simply amazing and eye-catching, and her breath hitched in her throat to see her name literally in the spotlight. Her chest constricted, and she looked at Simon, then James. Could these men really make her dreams a reality?

  “Concert.” Simple and elegant.

  “Exactly.” James looked a little smug. “Lacey, your name is unique and will be associated with talent scouting. That is the model you’re aiming at, correct?”

  He had a point, but still… “My name will do that?” She studied the script and swirl of her name and wondered how he’d chosen her exact favorite colors of black and pink.

  When she remained silent, Simon elaborated, “People will associate your café with your name. Lacey’s. Our marketing team liked that. But Concert sets it apart from the other cafés. It announces the café’s intentions.”

  James leaned bac
k in his chair. “Hey, let’s go to Lacey’s.” He nodded. “Sounds like the perfect place, right?” He held up one finger. “Or, hey, let’s go to that concert café.”

  Simon nodded. “Both work.”

  She actually liked the idea. Nothing to argue about on that point. She flashed him a smile. “I like it.”

  Beth rapidly typed into her tablet. “So you agree to the renaming of the coffeehouse.”

  Lacey bobbed her head in compliance. “Yes.”

  She couldn’t wait to share her news with Billy. And that thought gave her pause. He wasn’t a permanent fixture in her life. In fact, he’d spent hours after midnight arguing with Chip. The manager finally agreed it would hurt Billy’s image to leave early, given the holiday and the expectations of the local fans.

  But come Friday morning, he’d be gone. Right on schedule. So why would he care that she was securing the finances to fix up the coffeehouse? Maybe he could come back and make a guest appearance or a surprise performance or be a judge if she managed to host a local talent competition.

  She stalled that train of thought. She needed to focus. She needed her head in the game and not in la-la land. She needed to stay detached.

  Beth closed her tablet. “Lacey, you don’t have to make any decisions right now, but if you agree to the adjusted percentages and the other points mentioned, then we’ll move to the next step.”

  The next step to achieving her goal.

  Simon wanted to remodel to a trendier, more urban feel, rather than run-down former bar, and James wanted the signage out front to reflect the new name. Both men wanted a higher percent in terms of entertainment choices, and while it pained Lacey to give up complete control, she would hold seventy-percent operating ownership and control all staffing decisions.

  “I agree.” Her pulse hammered in her ears. This was really happening. “I can’t thank you enough for believing in me. In my café.”

  Beth hugged the tablet to her chest. “I’m going to print out this revised contract, and then we’ll get your signatures in place.” She quickly strode out of the room, and Lacey could hear her talking to her assistant.

  She looked at the two men. “So that’s it? We’re partners now?”

  She bit the inside of her cheek, surprised at how anxious she felt. This was it. This was her partnering with Simon Dimistar and giving him a percentage in her dream, and she had not trusted a man since Stephen crushed her competence.

  James tapped a finger on the table. “One final issue before we part.”

  Her voice squeaked. “Yes?”

  He sounded sincere and, dare she hope, a bit excited? “One of the reasons we wanted more control over the entertainment is because we have something more in mind.”

  “More?”

  “Yes.” Simon pushed out of his chair and stood, towering over her. “I’ve several celebrities I’d like to bring in.”

  Beth returned then and proudly placed the freshly printed contract on the table. “Exciting stuff, right?”

  “Celebrities?” Lacey blinked. Her café had a maximum of one hundred.

  “Disney up-and-comers, a couple of pop stars, some classically trained instrumentalists.” One of James’s dark brows arched and a small smile played at the left corner of his mouth. “Would you care to sign on the dotted line?”

  The terms were sound. Beth agreed. This was why she’d sought out Dimistar Enterprises. For money. For business acumen. For clout.

  James’s amber eyes twinkled. “Yes. I’ll need you to be prepared for their visits. Stock up on supplies. Don’t worry about security. They’ll have their own. We’re partners, once you sign, and we intend to launch your new name in style. The new signage won’t be ready for tonight, but we have a guest appearance lined up if you’re ready to make it official.”

  “For tonight?” It was the Fourth of July. But she shouldn’t be surprised they’d know someone on such short notice and on the off chance she signed. “Who?”

  “Dina Suarez.” Simon chuckled. “This afternoon. Two to four. Just enough to create a little buzz.”

  Little buzz. Dear Lord. She’d already had her grand opening. Her palms moistened at the thought of a celebrity entering her humble café. If Billy filled the place, she couldn’t imagine what an A-lister would do. She’d have a line outside.

  “I’m ready.” Lacey held out her hand for a pen, Beth pointed to the first X marks the spot, and Lacey swirled her name with a flourish.

  …

  The entourage entered first. A massive movement of beautiful people filing into the coffeehouse and immediately assembling several tables to make one large sitting area. At first Billy thought they would approach him for an autograph, especially after he spied at least three Sharpie markers.

  But after several minutes, she entered.

  Strode through the entrance like she owned the place. Settled into one of the chairs. Looked around until someone handed her a bottle of water.

  Following her, Billy recognized Simon. The other man in the suit must be his business partner that Lacey had told him about. They strode to the opposite side of the room and settled into chairs with their backs against the wall.

  The noise level increased, even though the girls on the stage had stopped singing, and suddenly, the markers made sense.

  All eyes veered toward her, the triple-threat Latin pop star, movie actress, and fashionista. She stole the show, and minutes passed as the entire room gawked at her—Billy included. What the hell was she doing in Lacey’s café? Did Lacey even know she’d attracted such an entertainment icon to her humble abode?

  Billy ran a hand down his face and frowned. Was she planning on staying for his set? He hopped off the stool and entered the kitchen, looking for Lacey. He found her in conversation with her staff, and he listened for several moments before he heard the magic words.

  “…should be here tonight, and I can’t believe this is happening. They assigned me a financial manager, Harmony, to help me sort the books, and they said they wanted more of a draw for the nights when we have no headliner.”

  Billy hitched the thumb over his shoulder. “I think more just walked in.”

  They turned toward him. “Huh?”

  “Simon. He’s here, and I think he brought more with him.”

  Before Lacey could respond, the waitress rushed into the kitchen, her eyes bright with excitement. She waved the menu in front of her face. “Oh my gawd! You guys! You will never, not in a million years, believe who just ordered everything on the menu!”

  Lacey grinned. “I told you to be prepared!”

  “Dina Suarez!” the girl screamed, not waiting for anyone to guess.

  “Dina. Right.” Lacey nodded. “We’re ready for her.” She took a step in one direction, paused, and then turned in the opposite direction.

  Billy touched Lacey’s back. “Maybe you should go out there and say hi to your investors and then greet your celebrity guest and then get the girls on the stage to start singing?”

  Lacey’s eyes widened. “They stopped?” Since it was a holiday, she’d hired local groups to play through the afternoon before Billy took the stage.

  “The whole world kinda stopped when she walked in.” He grinned at his response and made a mental note to use that line in another song. Dang, Lacey really was his muse.

  Lacey disappeared.

  Billy watched the kitchen staff as they bustled around the area, and when a tray of crab cakes passed in front of him, he snatched two and popped them in his mouth. The waitress gawked at him, and he shrugged. “Sorry, but I’m starving.”

  She blew the bangs off her forehead and grinned. “Grab yourself a plate and take it to the bar. Plenty of women are going to want their chance to flirt with you.”

  He took a plate with assorted appetizers on it and stepped out of the kitchen. The place had doubled in occupancy. Dina’s security guys stood on either side of the door, and at this point, they were turning people away. He swiped his brow with the back of his h
and. Damn but he felt low. The Latina vocalist showed him what real fame was, and while he’d never really acclimated to that kind of spotlight, there were times—like now—when he missed it.

  Lacey chatted with Simon and some other hotshot in a suit, and his gut tightened when she smiled at the two men, but he refused to acknowledge the feeling as jealousy. Hunger pains were more acceptable to him. So, with Lacey distracted, he decided he deserved a break, and after he polished off the plate of appetizers, he gave a nod to the security guys and headed out of the café. Checking his phone, he calculated he had a good two hours before Chip showed up and it was his turn onstage.

  The street was ablaze with music and Independence Day partiers. Open bars and restaurants with sidewalk tables hosted an eclectic mix of tourists and locals. The sun hung low over the glistening waters of the Atlantic, and Billy rephrased several lyrics from Lacey’s song in his head.

  He walked down one end of the street, crossed, and started back up the other side. Across from Lacey’s, he entered a relatively quiet rock bar with a nice mix of recorded music from the top of the charts. But no one followed him, not one patron asked for his autograph, and he sure as hell didn’t have an entourage.

  He plunked down on a barstool facing the road, he ordered tequila and glared at the open doors of Lacey’s Café. He slammed back the shot and stared into the street. Chip thought recording one song would be enough to break back into Nashville, but Billy needed more than one song to land another album or even a concert. Stars like Dina reminded him how far down the ladder he’d fallen, and right at that moment, he wondered if he had the talent to make the climb.

  A scrawny kid behind the bar approached him. “Want another?”

  He shook his head. “Nah. But could you pass me some more napkins?”

  Maybe an hour later, after he’d scribbled two dozen or more phrases on the bar napkins, he was finally pleased with the way Lacey’s song sounded in his head. Surely she hadn’t been serious about him not writing it. It was his ode to her. His love song to remain long after they went their separate ways. Girls killed for songs like that.