I almost didn’t want to tell her I had been avoiding his calls, and I told Lia everything. Instead, I sucked it up and admitted the truth. “I haven’t talked to him yet. But you know Eli. He’s old school and thinks any press is good press.”

She rolled her eyes; despite Nate’s trust and kind feelings toward my manager, Lia hated him.

Before she could say anything, I asked what I’d been dying to know. “How pissed is Nate?”

She shrugged, a smile tugging at her lips. “Pissed.”

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being he’s getting ready to fire me from the tour, how pissed is he?”

She scoffed. “Nate’s not going to fire you, silly.”

Something seemed off. The way she glanced away set my nerves on edge. “Lee?” Even I could hear the panic in my voice. “He’s not going to fire me, right?”

To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. He had to practically beg—and definitely call in every favor owed to him—just to get me hired as his opener last summer. We both knew it was my one shot, and we did what we had to do so I could have the career I’d always wanted.

I’d been on cloud nine when country radio started playing my songs, and then amazed when a few singles began climbing up the charts. I’d been lucky enough to get recognition from our peers and was asked to present at the Grammy’s. Nate’s label had been impressed, and didn’t argue when Nate insisted on making this year’s concert a joint headliner.

We all knew that it was in name only, though. This was still Nate’s tour, and Nate was a Kelly—country music royalty. His grandfather was the late, great C.C. Kelly, a founding member of outlaw country. Nate had grown into a legend of his own; men all over the world wanted to be him, millions of women thought they were in love with him, and everyone, it seemed, listened to his music. All it would take was one phone call from him, and I’d be forced to mysteriously come down with a cold and be booted from the tour so I could “recuperate” in peace.

“Mols!” Lia snapped her fingers, pulling me from my thoughts. “Nate isn’t going to fire you. You know he loves you. He’d fire one of the boys before he would let you go. And that will never happen.”

I nodded, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I narrowed my eyes at her. I did know that he loved me as much as I loved him. We were family. But there was definitely something Red wasn’t telling me. “But?”

Lia bit her bottom lip the way she did when avoiding something. I waited. “But”—she wrinkled her nose, forcing out the next words—“he fired Tim.”

My face fell. “He what?” He couldn’t do that. None of this was Tim’s fault; I’d gone out without him, making him stay in the hotel room because I needed a few minutes alone. Plus, Tim was the head of my security, not Nate’s. The only person with enough authority to do that, other than me, was Eli.

Before I could demand answers, my phone rang. Glancing at the screen, I stifled a groan. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right? I took a deep breath, holding my index finger up to Lia so she’d know this conversation wasn’t even close to being over, and brought the phone to my ear.

“I was just thinking about you,” I answered warmly as I stood up and walked toward the small set of windows overlooking a forest.

“Young lady,” came the cool reply.

I rolled my eyes at the Sunday-preacher tone. Obviously, Eli had his manny-panties in a bunch, and I was in for an ear-full.

“I have tried. Lord knows I have. But I have never, and I mean never, had a client that is as reckless and difficult as you. Do you think it’s easy to get a girl that looks like you work in this town?”

I took a deep breath, trying desperately not to tell him to go to hell.

I’d heard all the complaints from him before, and right now, they were the last thing I needed to hear from the man that was supposed to be the one person always on my side. Eli Cahill wasn’t the best manager Nashville had ever seen, but he’d been around since before dirt was invented and knew everyone. Those that didn’t like him at least respected him, which is a great asset to have in this industry. He might’ve been a giant pain in the ass, but he knew what he was doing.

When no one would take me on, Nate sent my demos out to all of his grandfather’s old friends. After more refusals than I care to remember, we got amazing news—Cahill Management was willing to meet with me. However, when Eli took one look at my pierced face, tattoos, purple hair, stomach-showing tank and ripped jeans, his face turned bright red and he shook his head violently.

“Nathaniel, you know I only manage country artists. I don’t know how to market grunge, or heavy metal, or whatever the hell it is she sings.”

Nate laughed, as if it was the funniest thing he’d heard. “Come on, Eli. This is the face behind that voice you told me you loved so much.”

Eli raised a single eyebrow in disbelief. When Nate didn’t back down, he turned his judgmental eyes to me. “You want a chance to work with me?” he asked, annoyance evident in each syllable. He only scowled after I nodded frantically. “Then, go get yourself cleaned up. Once you look like a respectable young lady, we’ll talk.”

Going against every single fiber of my being, I’d done just that. The purple streaks were removed and a new wardrobe had been purchased—one that would ensure my tattoos were covered whenever I was in public. Even though I hadn’t wanted to, I’d removed my double tongue balls, Monroe, spider bites, nose stud, and even took out my eyebrow ring, leaving only single holes in my ears and the piercings that you couldn’t see when I had my clothes on. I smiled and giggled and acted like a good, respectable girl. Eli had been my manager ever since.

Vowing not to get into an argument with him—and to try to make the next few minutes pass as painlessly as possible—I closed my eyes, attempting to focus on the words of wisdom he tried to impart.

“There are six women that get airtime on country radio consistently. Six. You know how many of them had singles on the charts this week?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, even though I listened to the countdown faithfully every Sunday. “Three. And do you know what they all have in common?”

“They’re all blonde, skinny, and perfect little Barbie dolls?” I answered petulantly.

Eli sighed angrily. “No. They play their part. They smile for the cameras and act like proper young women should.”

“The way women should have acted fifty years ago.” I interrupted. “It’s not 1952 anymore, Eli. Proper is boring.”

“Proper sells albums. The majority of people that listen to country music are women. They want to hear songs that make them feel. And they want them to be sung by women they can picture themselves being friends with. They do not want to support, listen to, or care about someone who can’t respect the sanctity of marriage.”

I snorted at that. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Eli snapped, agitation morphing into anger. “I’ve told you repeatedly that your behavior would bite you in the ass. Now look what you’ve done.”

I felt my fist clench as blood rose to my cheeks. “What I’ve done? I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“We both know that Nate isn’t the father, because he would never jeopardize Lia for a girl like you. But all the world will see is that you aren’t in a committed relationship. That baby will constantly be speculated about and will forever be linked to Nate. Have you thought about what that would do to your child? To Nate’s career? And you can kiss your own goodbye.”

My mouth had fallen open halfway through his tirade, but now snapped shut, barely missing my tongue. “Tampons!” I snapped. “It was a box of fucking tampons!” The silence that greeted me would have been comical if I hadn’t been so pissed off; Eli hated hearing about my monthly cycle or my “womanly needs” as he called them.