Neon Dreams: Loving Dallas Part 16

"He can manage, Kim. That's what he does for a living," the man on the other side of the table says. "That's Kim Le. I'm Ricky Ray."

I nod at Kim and then reach across a switchboard and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you both. Thank you for having me today."

"Thanks for joining us. We'll just chat. Forget the listeners. Let's just shoot the bull like old friends. Sound good?"

"Yes, sir."

"First rule of shooting the bull, no 'sirs.' "

I nod, feeling like a complete jacka.s.s. "Got it."

A tall blond woman with angular features steps into the small room. "We're on in five, Ricky," she tells him.

"Let's do this," he says, putting in earbuds like the ones I was given.

I press mine into my ears and they fill with the sound of someone counting down. "On in five" apparently means five seconds in radio time.

"We're back with Ricky Ray, Kim Le, and up-and-coming country music sensation Dallas Walker," Ricky says in a completely different voice than the one he used to greet me. "Thanks for joining us, Dallas."

The chorus of "Better to Burn" plays briefly.

"Thanks for having me," I say into the silver microphone attached to a long metal arm in front of me.

"So you're from here in town I hear."

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes, si-uh, yes. I am. From Amarillo actually."

Austin originally, but I don't feel the need to clarify because it would open a door to my past I have no intention of walking through on the radio.

"You had a band there, didn't you?"

I s.h.i.+ft in my seat and it rolls slightly backward. I stop myself before I answer with "yes, sir." "Yeah. My sister and a buddy of mine played around for a while."

"Just played around?" Ricky glances down at several sheets of paper laid out before him. "It says here you took third place in last year's state fair sound-off and that your band, Leaving Amarillo, recently played in Austin MusicFest."

Swallowing hard, I nod even though I know I'm supposed to verbalize my answers.

"Austin was a good time. I met my manager there. If I hadn't, I probably wouldn't be sitting here right now."

It's a lame-a.s.s attempt at redirecting, but it's all I got.

"Well, thank goodness for Austin." Kim breaks in, possibly because she's the closest to me and can likely see how twitchy I'm becoming. "Touring with Jase Wade must be amazing. Has that been a life-changing experience?"

I grin at her, thankful for the change in topic. "It has been. Jase is an impressive performer and I've learned a lot being on this tour. It's an awesome opportunity and I'm grateful to get to be a part of it." Most of that is true at least.

"You already have quite a large fan base-much larger than most new artists," Ricky says, eyeing me as if wondering how I tricked people into listening to my music. "Do you attribute that to your time with your band? Have Leaving Amarillo fans followed you over into your solo career?"

I shrug. "You know, it's hard to say. I mean I hope so. It'd be great if they did since it's pretty much the same sound."

Ricky smirks as if I'm full of s.h.i.+t.

"Well, not exactly the same. You had a fiddle player in Leaving Amarillo, right?"

Son of a b.i.t.c.h. Why this guy wants to talk about the band so much is beyond me. But like a dog with a bone, he doesn't seem to want to let go.

"We did. My sister is a very talented violinist and fiddle player. She's been playing since we were kids."

"She didn't want to come along on the tour?"

More like the label wouldn't have ever allowed her to.

Guilt seeps into my pours, thick like lead that weighs me down. I take a deep breath before answering in order to maintain my composure. "We had a loss in the family. She had other priorities to handle when this opportunity presented itself."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kim says, earning herself another grin.

Ricky doesn't offer his condolences. "So you're out on the road, right after a devastating loss in your family, without your band. That takes dedication."

I'm a big boy. I can listen between the lines. What he really wants to say is that I must be some special brand of selfish a.s.shole to leave my grieving sister and my band behind.

I can't even argue with him so I just nod. "I think dedication is important when it comes to making it in the music business. The window of opportunity is fairly small, so I had to jump when it opened."

"Definitely," Kim says, chiming in to agree with me.

"And your band didn't want to jump with you?"

I grip my knee tightly under the table to keep myself and my temper under control. Telling Ricky Ray to f.u.c.k off on national radio would probably not go over well.

"It had a lot to do with timing. Both my sister and my drummer had other obligations they needed to see to at the time."

Kim's voice is more curious and less accusatory when she inquires about Leaving Amarillo. "Do you think y'all might ever get back together? Or is Dallas Walker a lone road warrior from here on out?"

Good question. "I wish I knew the answer to that." I focus on the mic in front of me. "Right now I'm just taking it one day a time."

"One show at a time," she corrects playfully.

"Exactly."

"We posted about your visit to the studio today," Ricky breaks in. "On our Facebook page. The most frequent comments we're seeing are from local listeners wondering why you left your band to go it alone when it seemed like the natural next step would be for Leaving Amarillo to be on this tour instead of Dallas Walker. What would you say to those critics?"

It's none of your f.u.c.king business.

Sweat forms on my neck and drips into the collar of my s.h.i.+rt. I shove my s.h.i.+rtsleeves upward on my forearms and take a fortifying breath. "Well, honestly, all I can say is sometimes things don't work out how you expect them to. Sometimes life gets in the way and you don't get exactly what you want. But I am really and truly blessed to be on this tour and I don't take anything for granted. I'm grateful for all of the fans and the listeners and people who've never even heard of me who will hopefully give me a chance."

"There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Dallas Walker." Ricky is back to using his announcer voice. "We're going to break for some music, including Dallas's. .h.i.t single, 'Better to Burn,' then we'll be back to take your questions."

Once Ricky takes his earphones out, I do the same. I don't want to sit around and take questions. I want to get the h.e.l.l out of here before anyone else asks about Dixie and Gavin. Those questions aren't mine to answer anyway.

"Do I have time to get some air?"

Kim gives me a sympathetic look. "Not really. But we're almost done here. A few minutes of questions and you're free."

Ricky laughs like I've asked something amusing.

"Spotlight gettin' too bright for you already, Walker? Better buck up, son. It's only going to get hotter from here."

After this live interview I have several more via phone. He's right. It will only get more intense.

The blonde from before taps on the gla.s.s and points at Ricky as soon as he steps back into the booth. She counts down from five on her right hand, then nods.

"And we're back with Dallas Walker," Ricky announces suddenly. "Dallas, we checked out fan feedback and we have another tough question for you."

"Oh good," I say, doing my best to sound like I'm playing it cool instead of letting the dread I feel deepen my tone.

Kim laughs but there is sympathy in her smile this time. "So this question comes primarily from the ladies, but a few fellas wanted to know as well."

I hold my breath and keep my expression blank while I wait.

Kim tilts her head to the side. "We're all dying to know, is there a special girl out there? Someone you're missing while you're out on the road?"

Robyn's face flashes behind my eyes. I can't help but wonder if she's listening. Mandy's warnings about encroaching on Jase's territory come to mind as well and it p.i.s.ses me off that I even have the thought.

We said we were keeping it casual. Surely Robyn will understand. Even if we were heavily involved I'm not the type to go announcing it on national radio. She knows this. She knows me. She was the one who specified that we keep this to ourselves for the sake of both of our jobs. But it still feels like a lie.

Rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans I chuckle lightly. "Nah. Not really. Right now I'm just focusing on the music."

"Well there you have it, ladies. And, er, gentlemen," Ricky says with a hearty laugh. "Dallas Walker is a single man."

"I bet that makes a lot of women happy to hear tonight," Kim says.

Maybe.

It probably didn't bring joy to one woman in particular, though. I pull my phone out of my pocket as soon as I exit the building, hoping against hope that she's home.

26 Robyn.

WHEN THE TOUR HEADS TO TEXAS, I'M GRATEFUL FOR THE TIME to sleep in my own bed. The schedule has been grueling and nights with Dallas haven't included a lot of actual sleep. Not that I'm complaining.

As much as I want to crash for the entire weekend, the first thing I do when I arrive home is have lunch and go shopping with my mom. I fill her in about Dallas being on the tour and she sort of half-yells at me for not calling her with this news sooner.

Sitting across from me at our favorite Tex-Mex place, she adjusts the vibrant pink scarf covering her head and gapes at me. "Are you sure you're okay with this? Working with him after everything?"

I don't bother filling her in on the details of our little arrangement.

"I'm fine. It's been surprisingly okay." Better than okay, really, but this is my mom here. Plus she doesn't know why we broke up and I have no plans of ever telling her.

I was always closer with my dad, but after he pa.s.sed away, my mom and I definitely bonded. When she got sick, I couldn't stand the thought of losing another person I loved so I became dedicated to making sure I did everything in my power to keep her healthy.

The older I get, the more I realize how much she and I have in common. We're both control freaks with slight OCD tendencies who obsess about plans and lists and agendas. Funny, when I was younger, those things drove me half-crazy about her. Now I get it, though, the need for control in a world of chaos. You have to take it where you can get it.

Once I've convinced her I can handle the tour, she moves on from Dallas and peppers me with questions about Jase Wade. I knew she was a fan, but sheesh. When she asks if he's seeing anyone, I'm almost nervous for him since I got her backstage pa.s.ses for the show tomorrow night. Maybe I should have them bulk up Wade's security. Dixie will be there, too, though Dallas texted and said Gavin wouldn't be able to make it. It's odd to me that he can't come to his best friend's show, but Gavin Garrison has never been the predictable type.

After a long afternoon with my mom, one that ended with us hearing Dallas on the radio telling the world that he's a single man, I'm thankful when I get home to a note from Katie saying she's staying with a friend and not to wait up.

I've just decided to run myself a hot bubble bath when my phone buzzes in my purse. I retrieve it, smiling when I see Dallas on the screen.

"Hey, you," I say. "Enjoying being home in the great state of Texas?"

"It could be worse, I guess." He doesn't sound like himself. He sounds like someone ran over his dog, or maybe even him.

"You okay?"

"Can I come by? It doesn't have to be for . . . you know. I just want to see you."

"Look at you being all sweet. I kind of like this side of you. Maybe we should come home more often."

"That so?"

"Come on over, Lark. I was just about to take a bubble bath but I guess I can wait. Care to join me?"

"You? Naked? In a tub full of bubbles?"

"Yes, sir."

Dallas is quiet for a second. "Well, I guess if you're going to twist my arm . . ."

I'm still laughing when we hang up.

I open the door in nothing but my robe and Dallas smiles despite the sadness in his eyes.

"Hey," I say, ushering him inside. "What's up with you? I thought you'd be happy to be home, or close to home at least."

"I had radio interviews today. One with Ricky Ray and several with a few local stations," he tells me, taking off his dark brown jacket and hanging it in the corner on one of my bar stools. "Want to know what question they all wanted an answer to?"

I nod. I heard most of the one with Ricky Ray but I still have no idea what has him looking so beat down.

" 'What happened to Leaving Amarillo, Dallas? Why'd you leave your band, Dallas? Did you get too big for them, Dallas? Were they holding you back, Dallas?' "

His tone has turned from mocking to angry by the end of his diatribe.

"That's more than one question," I note quietly.

"Same general idea." He pauses to shake his head. "Basically around here I'm the j.e.r.k.-.o.f.f. that broke up a beloved local band to go be a fame wh.o.r.e. So to answer your question, no, I'm not all that thrilled to be home."

"They don't know the whole story." I don't even think I know the whole story, for that matter.