Love At The Bluebird

  Table of Contents

  Love At The Bluebird

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Until Valerie

  Other Books by Aurora Rose Reynolds

  Other Books by Jessica Marin

  Acknowledgements for Aurora Rose Reynolds

  Acknowledgements for Jessica Marin

  About Aurora Rose Reynolds

  About Jessica Marin

  About Boom Factory Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 by Aurora Rose Reynolds and Jessica Marin.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Love At The Bluebird

  Published by Boom Factory Publishing, LLC.

  Cover Design by Sara Eirew Photographer

  Formatting by CP Smith Designs.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Gavin

  “YOU’RE LISTENING TO 103.6 BOOM! Country Nashville, and that was Gavin McNeer’s new single, ‘User’. Speaking of the new heartthrob of country music, he’s our special guest in the studio this morning. What’s up, Gavin?” The radio disc jockey, Trevor Ant, nods at me while pressing some buttons on his audio console, signaling for my turn to speak into the microphone.

  “Good morning, everyone,” I say, unable to hide my southern drawl or the deep, husky tone of my voice. “Thanks for letting me crash your morning routine.” I turn around in surprise hearing muffled screams coming from behind me. A crowd of women have gathered on the other side of the glass, watching our interview. I see my cousin and full-time assistant, Sosie, rolling her eyes at the squealing from the ladies when I point and wave to them. I chuckle at Sosie, her disdain for my overexuberant female fans always amusing me.

  “Please excuse the background noise, as Gavin has accumulated a large crowd in the hallway,” Trevor reports to the listeners, irritation radiating in his eyes at the unwelcome visitors. Trevor Ant is a veteran radio disc jockey, having a long tenure on one of Nashville’s most popular country radio stations. He runs a tight ship and likes his routine to be smooth and uninterrupted. And I’m sure having a gaggle of women outside is not part of his plan for this interview.

  “Where did they even come from? They were not there five minutes ago,” I wonder out loud as I turn around again and give them a thumbs-up, causing another round of high-pitched hysterics to bellow into the room. I laugh at Sosie again, enjoying getting another rise out of my sassy cousin.

  “The real question, Gavin, is where did you come from, and more importantly, where have you been all my life?” CeeCee Walker purrs, licking her lips in a way that is purely intentional for me to see. CeeCee is Trevor’s female sidekick, reporting mostly on the gossip in the music industry. While Trevor has an exceptional reputation, word on the street is that CeeCee has no remorse trading air play for a roll in the sheets when she sets her sights on a musician she’s interested in. Even worse is that she’s supposed to be “happily” married.

  “I was born and raised in Austin, Texas and have been living in Nashville for four years now,” I answer, not even acknowledging her last comment. My insides burn with annoyance. I might be forced to be cordial and polite, but it pisses me off when women play games. And there is no way in hell I’d ever give her any reason to think I’m interested in her advances.

  Mental Note: Stay very far away from CeeCee Walker.

  “So, Texas is where that sexy drawl comes from. I must report to the ladies listening that Gavin looks just as good as he sounds! Like a tall glass of sweet tea on a hot summer’s day.”

  I smile coldly at her while shifting uncomfortably in my seat. I’m fortunate to be the son of two very good-looking parents, but talking about my looks is always my least favorite subject. I take care of myself by working out daily, and I know how blessed I am to be talented and handsome, but sometimes being both is a double-edged sword.

  Don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining about it. It just makes me have to work that much harder at my craft. I’m not always taken seriously and have been accused more than once that my voice is autotuned in the studio and that the only reason I’ve been this successful is because of my looks. People who’ve worked with me know that isn’t true, but some assholes like to say otherwise.

  I give zero fucks about what is reported about me by the media, and I won’t even acknowledge those lowlifes who just want to ride on my coattails. I’m more than happy to prove them wrong by inviting them into the studio with me. Looks fade, but my music is going to last a lifetime, and that’s all I care about.

  The haters can go fuck themselves.

  “While you might be new to us as a singer, you’re no stranger to the music business. You’ve actually been writing and producing songs for other artists for a while now. Tell us how you broke into the industry, Gavin, as it’s not an easy task,” Trevor interjects, giving CeeCee a look that is screaming at her to behave.

  “That’s right, Trevor. It sure isn’t an easy industry to get into, much less recognized. For the one song that makes it, thousands of others will never see the light of day. A lot of this business is who you know and timing. My brother and I had our own band back in Austin, where we got discovered—”

  “Oh my gosh, there’s another one of you?” CeeCee screeches out in excitement, causing Trevor to throw his hands up in exasperation. I again choose to ignore her and focus my attention on answering his question.

  “Unfortunately, nothing came to fruition from our former record deal, but one of our songs was discovered by an artist, who asked us to come to Nashville to help them record it. My brother had some personal issues that forced him to stay back in Austin, so I came out here by myself and just got lucky meeting the right people at the right time. I’ve proven myself as a songwriter and have been fortunate to experience success with some talented artists.”

  “One of those songs sat at the number one spot on the country radio charts for weeks. Congratulations on that! What was it like writing ‘Thief of Your Heart’ with Tori Langston?” I nod at Trevor’s question and plaster a smile on my face, trying to hide my aggravation at his mentioning my ex-girlfriend. His question is legitimate, and it’s only natural that he would ask. After all, that hit song I wrote for her did help take my career to the next level and has been playing non-stop on the radio.

  “Thanks, Trevor. It’s very exciting and humbling to have had that song at number one and now have ‘User’ in the number two spot on the charts. Tori was great, her voice perfect for the vision of the song.” I keep my answer brief, hoping they move the conversation on to a different subject, bec
ause Tori Langston is the last person I want to continue talking about.

  “Rumor has it, Gavin, that you wrote ’User’ in response to Tori breaking up with you. Can you tell us if she really was the inspiration behind it?” CeeCee smiles snidely, knowing full well that my publicist told them no personal questions about my former relationship with Tori. Clearly, she doesn’t give two shits what they told her and is hoping that putting me publicly on the spot like this will warrant her the answer she’s craving to hear. I don’t care if CeeCee Walker can help my career with airplay; I will never talk about my private life, nor would I ever badmouth my ex.

  Even though our break-up was kept quiet, everyone in the industry knows this song is about her. If people followed the timeline of our relationship to our break-up and then the release of the song, it’s a no-brainer. But my private life has always been a do-not-even-go-there subject, and I refuse to capitalize off even mentioning her name. What makes it worse is that Tori’s father is the owner of the label who signed me. The same label Tori is signed with.

  Avoiding her question, I lean into the mic before me. “I think everyone can relate to the lyrics, whether they’ve been used by a friend, family member, co-worker, or even a lover. It’s their own interpretation of that specific relationship and how it made them feel that causes the song to speak to them. We’ve all been used for something before, haven’t we, CeeCee?” I give her a cheeky wink, my eyes daring her to continue questioning me. I can play this mind fuck game all day long if I have to and will thoroughly enjoy it. CeeCee Walker thinks I need her, but she has no idea who she’s dealing with.

  While the asshole part of me was hoping she would continue, I’m happy to see the look of resignation settle into her eyes and her lips tighten in disappointment. “Yes, we most certainly all have,” she responds back. “Now that you’re signed with Charisma Records, will you be hitting the road?”

  “Eventually, yes. I would love to start with some of the bigger summer festivals and then hit the smaller venues during the fall. For now, we have one more single to release before the album comes out.”

  “I think I speak for me and everyone else when I say we are looking forward to hearing the rest of the album, Gavin. Thank you so much for stopping by this morning. Let’s send you off by playing another song you wrote. This is ‘My Town’ by Scotty Wilkins.”

  I hold my breath, waiting for the lights of the On Air sign to go off, and once they do, I immediately take off my headphones and stand up, ready for this interview to be over with. Before I can even say thank you, the door swiftly opens and an intern comes in, asking if I can take a photo with Trevor and CeeCee for their social media pages. I oblige and turn toward Trevor once the picture is snapped and thank him for having me on his show. I slowly start inching my way to the door while saying my goodbyes, hoping to get out of here as quickly as I possibly can without coming across as being rude.

  CeeCee Walker dashes those hopes by blocking the door, forcing me to stop and talk to her.

  “It was so nice meeting you today, Gavin.” Her eyes take their sweet ol’ time traveling up and down my body as if I’m a piece of meat she’s picking out at the butcher’s shop. “I already volunteered myself to cover your record release party. Here’s my card; think of me if you ever want someone to accompany you to some of these industry events.” She hands me her card and catches me off guard by planting a kiss dangerously close to the side of my lips.

  “Thanks, but I already have my plus-one covered,” I politely tell her with a small smile and a curt nod. Suddenly, a large banging noise comes from the glass, startling CeeCee and moving her attention away from me.

  “We’ve got to go. Get out of his way!” Sosie yells at her through the glass, and I have to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.

  Fuck, now I gotta give Sosie a bonus for being her bitchy self today.

  “Thanks again!” I dip my chin at CeeCee and slip out of the room into the crowded hallway. Shit, so much for getting out of here quickly, I think as a crowd of ladies circles around me. My fans are the reason my songs are sitting pretty on the charts, so even though I want to take off, I make time for them by signing autographs and taking photos before finally heading to our car.

  “Please tell me the rest of the interviews we have lined up for today aren’t going to be as torturous as that one?” I sigh as soon as the doors to the car are closed.

  “CeeCee Walker is the only barracuda on the agenda for today,” Rachel, my A&R rep from the label, informs me and Sosie with a smirk, causing us to laugh at her accurate description of CeeCee. “The rest of today should be smooth sailing.”

  “Thanks for saving me back there, Sos.” I ruffle the top of her hair like I used to do when we were kids, prompting her to slap my hand away while giving me a dirty look. She pinches my bicep hard in retaliation before rummaging through her purse for a brush to fix her hair.

  With a deep breath, I remind myself that this is my time right now. I’ve hustled and worked hard to be in the position I’m now in, and I’ll enjoy every damn minute of it. No one is going to ruin this opportunity for me. I clap my hands and rub them together, refusing to let a leech like CeeCee Walker put me in a bad mood. “Let’s have fun and get this show on the road!” I exclaim as the car drives us to our next interview.

  Chapter Two

  ALY

  I VAGUELY HEAR the mumbling sound of what appears to be someone’s voice as I slowly start to wake up. The soothing voice starts off in almost a whisper, but gains volume, recognition starting to alert my senses. The low, smooth male voice proceeds to get louder and louder until it reaches a crescendo into the opening chorus. I smile as Bono from U2 tells me it’s a beautiful day and I shouldn’t let it get away.

  You’re right, Bono! I won’t!

  Every morning, I choose to wake up to this song—one of my all-time favorites—hoping it sets the tone for my day to be beautiful, to be exciting. To be memorable.

  My smile widens as I open my eyes to see the sunlight creeping in through my curtains, telling me it’s going to be another gorgeous day here in Nashville. I throw the covers off me, put my slippers on, and start my morning routine of getting ready for work. After I take care of business in the bathroom and shower, I head to the kitchen to make coffee.

  While the coffee brews, I fill my cat’s bowl up with his breakfast before making my own. I pour myself a bowl of cereal, grab my cup of joe, and sit down to start eating. As usual, I stare off into space while my mind thinks of all the things I need to accomplish today. Apollo jumping on the table startles me out of my trance, and even though I should yell at him to get down, I instead scratch behind his fluffy ears where his sweet spot is.

  “We’re going to rock this day, aren’t we, Apollo?”

  Yup, I’m that girl. That girl who’s the optimist, the romanticist with a bohemian, hippie flair and Goody Two-shoes way of life. I’m that girl who thinks the glass is always half full and am grateful for every day I get to wake up and live another day. One might call my exuberance for life annoying, but in a world where life can become dark and depressing in the blink of an eye, I call my positivity “survival.” My happiness and love for life makes people roll their eyes, but honestly, I’m beyond the point where I care what other people think. If they want to live their life with doubt, stress, and anxiety, then so be it. I choose to be this way, and let me make it perfectly clear, I’m damn happy to be that girl.

  When I’m done eating breakfast, I load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher before heading back to my room to brush my teeth and finish getting ready for work. Once my hair is done and makeup is complete, I grab my purse and car keys and head out the door. The beautiful morning sky makes me wish I could walk to work, but because my hours are unpredictable, it’s safer for me to drive, even if I only live a couple miles away. I live in the same house my parents did when they went to college - a rental property my grandparents bought as an investment located between where Belmont and Vanderbilt
Universities are.

  When my parents took it over, they completely gutted and updated it with modern fixtures with the intention of selling it to make some money. Because of the exclusive area it was in, they decided to keep it instead of selling it. My sister, Valerie, and her best friend, Emma, lived in it during their college years, and then I moved in when it was my time to start college. I was hoping Valerie was going to continue living here when I moved in, but because she’s four years older than me and needed quietness while she worked and studied to become a certified CPA and auditor, she decided to move into her own condo close by. My best friend, Willow, was living with me up until we graduated and then moved out to be closer to her new job.

  I make the quick drive to my office and pull into the parking lot. I still can’t believe I’m actually working in the music industry. I’ve always known I wanted some sort of career in the music world. Music has always spoken to my soul, starting out when I was a little girl and my mother would play classical music for me to fall asleep to. I studied piano and violin but grew more interested in the business and gossip side of the industry when I was in high school. Just driving up and down Music Row excited me, knowing how much history was behind those walls of the famous music houses.

  I immersed myself into researching what I needed to do to start my path into the industry. I applied and got accepted into Belmont University and studied in their music business program. I busted my butt in school, knowing if I really wanted this, I was going to have to stand out amongst all the other students who had the same dream as I did. Fortunately, I found a cute, boutique-style record label called Big Little Music to intern at during my senior year. Nashville is known for country music, but all genres of music are produced and recorded here. Big Little Music started off with indie rock artists, but it now has a full catalog of music and represents some of the biggest names in the industry. Proving to my bosses I’m a hard, loyal worker paid off, and I was offered an assistant’s position in the A&R department as soon as I graduated. It’s been three months since graduation, and most of my college classmates still don’t have a job, so I know how truly blessed I am.