Mason sat in the kitchen the next day and read the paper as she had her first cup of coffee. She’d gone running that morning since Victoria wasn’t waiting as she usually was, and then she’d showered and dressed for the office before anyone else was up. She’d met Belle in the hallway when she was on her way down, and Belle filled her in on what was happening. She’d also reminded her of her promise to work with Victoria.

  She didn’t need any prompting for that, but today it was going to have to wait until she got back from the office and the scheduled meeting with her father and the management team. Not that her dad was going to change his mind after she’d asked for more time to resolve the Sophie matter, but there were some other issues that had to be sorted out and couldn’t be put off any longer.

  “Good morning,” Victoria said when she joined her.

  “Hey, did you sleep okay?” She got up and fixed Victoria’s coffee for her. Victoria appeared so tired that she had an urge to hold her to make them both feel better. That thought made her blink a few times as she tried to figure out where all these out of character feelings were coming from. She wasn’t a bitch, but mushy sentimentality wasn’t her norm.

  “I did, and I feel loads better this morning. Sorry I missed our walk.”

  “No problem, and if you’re hungry give my housekeeper half an hour, and she’ll make you a great breakfast.”

  Victoria looked lost in thought. “Are you going somewhere today?”

  “I’ll only be gone a few hours. I’ve got a couple of meetings I can’t postpone, but I’m coming back this afternoon.” She pointed to the keys. “Feel free to head down to the office and nap or read. Your other option is to go riding. We’ve always got horses in search of riders. Jeb will be happy to set you up and show you our trails.”

  “I’ve never been on a horse in my life.”

  “I thought Sophie was born on a farm?”

  Victoria laughed at that. “She was, but the folklore I’ve been fed all my life is that I was born on the tour bus. My grandparents still owned the farm when I was growing up, but when I spent time with them, there were only chickens, and they didn’t like me riding them. Not one horse to be found.”

  Mason laughed at the image of little Victoria trying to ride a chicken and got her phone out to call Jeb. “We need to remedy that.”

  Victoria shook her head as she joined her at the counter. “No, we don’t.” Victoria put her hand over Mason’s to stop her from making the call. “I’m not cowgirl material.”

  “You never know until you try, and you absolutely need to try. How about we set something up this weekend, when I can go out with you?” She stood and placed her cup in the sink, trying to shake off the tingly feeling of Victoria’s hand over hers. “There are spots on the property that are only accessible by horse, and I’d like to share them with you.”

  “Why?”

  In their business, Mason had met some jaded, guarded, and cynical people, but none as wary as Victoria Roddy. The woman had some serious trust issues, and there had to be a way of working around them. The last three weeks obviously hadn’t made a difference in that regard, though she seemed more relaxed in other ways. “Because I’d like to. That’s the best answer I have. I know you think I’m trying to play you, but I’m not. All I want is to be your friend.”

  “I’m sorry,” Victoria said softly, and she appeared ready to cry. “You’ve been nothing but nice, and I keep giving you shit.”

  “Major shit, but that’s kind of your thing.” Mason winked at her and smiled. “Cut yourself some slack, and go read a book or stare at the water.” She didn’t touch Victoria, thinking it wouldn’t be appreciated, but she really wanted to. “And if you still feel bad, you can make it up to me by getting on a horse that’s not a chicken.”

  Victoria laughed and impatiently swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Okay, and thanks.”

  Mason nodded and grabbed her briefcase, wanting to get to the office early. She had Colt Kenny coming by the ranch later and didn’t want to keep him waiting. The drive went by in a hurry, and when she saw the pile of paperwork on her desk, she wished there’d been more traffic. Her father didn’t mind handing her assignments like sobering Sophie up, but that didn’t mean she got a pass on the rest of her work.

  “Sonny wants to talk to you about the Colt Kenny deal before the meeting,” her assistant, Scarlet Devlin, said, “and there’re a few songwriters in the studio today you really need to add to your schedule. You’ve already reviewed some of their work, and they’re here to see if you’re going to use any of their stuff.” Scarlet had her iPad in front of her face, and if she didn’t take a breath, she was going to pass out. “You also got a callback from a slew of daytime and late-night shows about Colt’s appearances.”

  Scarlet had followed her back from LA and was the best assistant she’d ever had. Since they’d both learned some of the ropes together, she trusted Scarlet with almost everything. “You think they’d mind going out to the ranch? I don’t want anything to make me late for Colt, and that way I won’t have to rush them.”

  She smiled at Scarlet’s brief expression of confusion, but she rallied, used to the way Mason would circle back to other topics. “The songwriters are green, so I’m sure they’ll cream their jeans over you acknowledging their existence. They’d talk to you in a bathroom stall if you asked.”

  “Tell me they’re not young enthusiastic boys with hay in their hair.”

  Scarlet laughed and shook her head. “They’re young, really enthusiastic, and there’s definite hay, but they’re all the way female.”

  “Give them the address and have Jeb show them to the office. Colt should be at the ranch by two, which means I have to be back before then with good stuff to report. As for the different talk shows, check the concert schedule against whichever shows want him, coordinate the locations, and book them.” She worked on the pile on her desk and signed a few things. The rest went in her bag for changes. “Let’s hope he’s not a diva on the road.”

  “He’s kind of too pretty to be a cowboy, but Colt’s cool. He’ll do fine.” Scarlet picked up the items she’d approved and went back to the iPad. “How’s your other project going?”

  “We’ve all slept for the last couple of nights, so that’s progress, I guess. Victoria Roddy seems like the harder challenge, believe it or not.” She glanced out at the Nashville skyline and sighed. Being conflicted was new, and Victoria made her feel that in spades. One minute she wanted to pick Victoria up and hold her until the pain subsided, and the next she wanted to fling her into the river from the deck of her home office for being so damn aggravating. The pull between the two things was starting to give her hives.

  “Was Victoria Roddy part of what Sonny wanted?”

  “It’s a package deal whether we wanted it or not. Sophie’s got some major problems, and they’re contagious. If we can help both of them, then there’s a better chance they’ll come out of this with positive results.”

  “Your mother will be happy, then, and she’ll get off my ass,” Sonny said as he came in and sat as Scarlet went to deal with other things. “PCG signed, and your rock group just broke the top ten. Good call on that even if it’s not my cup of coffee.”

  “If you were twelve to fourteen, you’d have their poster in your bedroom, and your mama would be screaming at you to turn the music down.” She smiled when her dad laughed. “Can you do without me today? I have an afternoon session with Colt, and it’s my last chance before he heads out.”

  “Go, Colt’s all yours, but stay in touch with Woody. Sophie’s left enough video out there to supply a full-length movie of all her shit. You need to stay ahead of that if we want to get results out of all of this. Woody put out a press release that she’s getting help, but eventually we’ll have to add to the story before someone does it for us.” Sonny slapped his knees and stood. “You know how much I love a good drama.”

  “You know if she’s sober but still pissed, she’ll sign with someone else.” Her father was a generous guy, but not too quick to forgive if crossed.

  “I’m counting on it, no matter what kind of mood she surfaces with, but your mom will know we gave it our all. That’s the most important thing to keep in mind here.” Sonny pointed to her. “You’re giving it your all, aren’t you, Buckaroo?”

  “You’re the last of the romantics, Sonny,” Scarlet said as she kissed his cheek. “Amelia is a lucky woman.”

  “She is, and I’m giving it my all, Papa. Don’t worry so much, and thanks for letting me skip out.” She grabbed everything she needed, and Scarlet followed her to the elevator. “Did our budding songwriters take you up on our invitation?”

  “They’re already on their way, and I’ll email you if anything else comes up that needs your immediate attention.”

  “Thanks, Scarlet, and call no matter what. I’m not on vacation, so yell whenever you need me.” The doors opened in the parking garage and her truck was close.

  “What about Victoria Roddy?”

  “What about her?” She dropped her bag in the back seat and faced Scarlet.

  “Remember that broken things are best fixed with love and patience.” She tilted her head. “It may not be a vacation, but you’ll have your hands full trying to help her. Love and patience, don’t forget either.”

  She laughed before waving Scarlet back into the building. “That’s a good lyric, Scarlet, but Miss Roddy would rather chew her fingers off than accept any kind of love or patience from me.”

  “I’ll remember you said that.”

  “You do that, and I won’t say I told you so when the Roddy girls are Justin Sullivan’s problem over at Brookline. Unlike you, both of them are dying to get away from me.”

  “Okay,” Scarlet said, finally closing the iPad and smiling at her as if she had a secret she wasn’t going to share.

  “Okay what?” She was too forceful in her tone, but the aggravation came from the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about Victoria, and she didn’t need that kind of complication in her life. Not to mention how angry Victoria always seemed. After a while she’d get tired of being unloaded on with both barrels for no reason other than she was the one standing there. “I’m not interested in anything except helping Victoria and Sophie, and I’m only doing my job, so stop making stuff up in your head. I can tell you are.”

  “Good to hear it,” Scarlet said, patting her on the hand like she was mollifying an upset three-year-old. “And I’m not doing any such thing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Good, and I’m fine.” She could handle being around an attractive woman, especially one who wanted so little to do with her. Eye candy wasn’t an issue unless you had a sweet tooth.

  * * *

  Victoria was about to take a sip of tea when she heard footsteps on the porch of the river house. She’d started a book, a romance of all things, and she’d needed a break after a few hours of reading, but the door opening meant she wasn’t alone any longer. Having Mason back was worth putting the book down, though.

  A teenager who was very distinctly not Mason walked in. “Oh,” he said, dropping his guitar case. “Sorry, I thought you were Mason, since the key was gone from the kitchen.”

  She shared his disappointment in Mason’s absence, but when Mason left for work this morning she’d been reminded what all this was about. The rehab and getting her mom sober were a part of Mason’s job and nothing more. She couldn’t expect Mason to be there as her shoulder to cry on, every time she felt like breaking down. Which was a lot, right now.

  “She left for the office, and I have no idea when she’ll be back.” She moved away from the kitchen trying to decide if she should go back to the house, or home to her apartment. The apartment suddenly seemed like the best option. “Were you supposed to meet her?”

  “We have a standing date every week.”

  “Uh-huh.” She stared at him and doubted he was even shaving yet. “Aren’t you a little young for her?” Instead of leaving like she thought she should, she chose to sit at the piano bench.

  “Mason is more like my buddy than a love interest.” The kid had a great laugh and he picked a chair close to her. “I mean, seriously, have you seen her? She’d put me in some kind of death grip if I tried to make a pass at her.”

  “I’ll give you that, which makes me curious about your standing date.”

  “She pays for music lessons for the types of music she wants me to learn, and I come play with her so she can monitor my progress.” He tapped on the guitar case and smiled. “Once I’m good enough, she’ll give me what I want.”

  “Which is?” The cover to the piano creaked as she opened it.

  “To make a living on this baby and never make another doughnut in my life.” He bent and opened the guitar case and took the instrument out. For a kid who made doughnuts he owned an uncommonly beautiful five thousand dollar Gibson acoustic guitar. “Unless it’s a cinnamon twist for Mason or cranberry scones for Miss Amelia. Those I don’t mind making.”

  “What are you learning to play?” She put her hands on the piano and thought about all those dreams she’d had when she was this kid’s age. Granted, she’d never dreamed or imagined herself being the next big thing, but the dreams had been taken from her anyway, no matter how small they’d been.

  “At the moment I’ve graduated from classical stuff to flamenco. Today was about malagueñas. You know, that Spanish stuff.”

  “How did that go?” She smiled at his eye rolling.

  “I need more practice, but it was kind of fun. Why I need to know how to play that to get in a band, I don’t understand, but Mason said it’s not my job to understand, and to shut up about it. There’s something she’s planning, so I come to lessons every week here, and I don’t complain—much.”

  There probably was some plan in place for him, and her instinct was to trust Mason that it was a good one. “Want to play for me? I’d love to hear what you learned today.”

  “Yeah, there’s some spots I need to work on.” He took the guitar and music out and got himself ready.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Wilbur Corsot, sorry, I should’ve said. Are you who Mason wanted me to meet?”

  “I’m Victoria, and I don’t think so. Go ahead and start, Wilbur, and remember to keep your shoulders straight and feel the music.”

  Wilbur stared at the sheet he’d placed on the stand and took a deep breath before he closed his eyes. If he’d already memorized the music, she was impressed. She watched him as he worked through the intricate opening to the music that was needed for the passion that was flamenco. The genre was one of her favorites, and she turned to the keys and accompanied him. Wilbur was enough of a professional not to stop, and the kid was good, really good.

  “Man, you’re great,” Wilbur said, resting his arm on the neck of his guitar when they were done.

  “Thank you, and back at you, Wilbur. You play beautifully.” She took a sip of her cooling tea, really enjoying Wilbur’s company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat with someone who wanted nothing at all from her. “How’d you meet Mason?”

  “I was playing on the street close to where Banu is, and she told me I really sucked. I mean really, really sucked.” He laughed as if the insult was a badge of honor.

  “That does sound like Mason. Not that I know her that well.”

  “Sounds like you do, and she was totally right—I sucked big-time.” He laughed again and very carefully placed the guitar on an empty stand. “She took me to dinner and promised to trade me this guitar for mine, but it came with some stipulations.” He pointed at the Gibson and treated it like a treasure he couldn’t believe was his.

  “You didn’t sell your soul for a gold guitar like in that Charlie Daniels song, did you?” She played a few bars of “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.”

  “Nothing like that, unless guitar lessons to learn music I’m never going to play anywhere but in here means I made a soul-sucking deal.”

  Mason had given a street kid with passion a guitar and lessons, and she got nothing in return. Was that truly who she was? “What’s your favorite non-Mason-approved song you like to play?”

  “‘Born to Be Wild,’ I guess.” He glanced at the guitar as if he wanted to play for her.

  “Classic,” she said, playing a little of that too. “Good choice, Wilbur, but which one is more technically difficult? They both should be played with passion, but one develops your craft more than the other.”

  “Want to try the flamenco again? With my luck Mason will play it perfectly, and there’ll be six more months of lessons and doughnut making. That wouldn’t totally suck, but I’m ready to start making a living.”

  “Sure, and don’t be afraid to be bold and play big. You understand?”

  “Mason says that all the time, so I totally get it. Thanks for playing with me.”

  She counted them off, then concentrated on the keys, wanting to give Wilbur a good experience. The addition of another guitar made her lift her head, and she figured it would be Mason, but instead she found a smiling Colt Kenny. That the biggest country star around played a perfect flamenco standard didn’t surprise her as much as that he was there at all. Guys like Colt didn’t make house calls, no matter how good their record label contract was.

  “Jesus,” Wilbur said when he opened his eyes and got the same shock she had. “You’re Colt Kenny.”

  Colt laughed at the phrase he must’ve heard often. “That’s what my mama keeps telling me, so I hope that’s true, and Mason finally delivered on some great backup talent for our little work sessions. You guys sound awesome.”

  “We were just practicing, but I’d love to play with you,” Wilbur said. “You need another guitar on your tour? I’m totally available.”

  “You’ll have to talk to my manager about that. She keeps telling me she’s the boss, so I try not to contradict her.” Colt shook Wilbur’s hand before taking hers. “And you are?”

  “Victoria.” She took his hand, and he held hers longer than necessary. She wasn’t about to say her last name. Anonymity was nice for a change.