Page 64 of Real Sexy
Regardless, she was fucking pissed.
“She killed that Carrie song.I’d love to hear her sing something else, though,” Holly says.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“Next up, we’ve got the White Horse’s own Ripley Fischer!”the announcer calls, and Ripley climbs onto the stage with a guitar in hand and wearing her White Horse tank and tight black jeans with tall black boots.
Fuck.She looks gorgeous.
Behind us, the crowd yells, and Holly and Tana both cheer.
Ripley walks straight to the mic and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone.She doesn’t introduce herself or speak to the crowd before she puts the guitar strap over her shoulder and starts with a few chords.
“I didn’t know she played,” Holly whispers.
“Me either,” I reply, even though it burns to admit it.
Within a few moments, it’s clear what she’s playing, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
Maren Morris’s “My Church.”Unlike the video I saw of Ripley belting out Carrie Underwood, this one embraces her husky voice as she adds subtle power behind it.The line about finding redemption when she gets in her car has to be a subtle jab at me for stealing the Javelin, and I laugh.
This woman.She’s everything.
By the chorus, she’s got everyone in the bar on their feet, singing along.There’s magic in her voice, and when Holly grabs my arm and squeezes, I know she hears it too.
When Ripley whispersthank youinto the microphone and leaves the stage, Holly is out of her seat before I am.“That’s it.I want her.She’s the new sound I’ve been dying to hear.”
“Then you’ll have her,” Karas replies.I’m pretty sure Holly could have said she wanted the international space station, and he’d agree to get it for her.“We’ll get the contracts drafted and schedule a meeting in the office.Also, the nanny just texted that Rose is fussy, so I’d like to get home.”
I never thought I’d see the day that arrogant asshole Karas let his schedule be dictated by a baby, but damned if it doesn’t make me like him better.
Lines of concern bracket Holly’s eyes.“She is?Why didn’t you say something?”
Karas looks at his wife and tucks a lock of wavy hair behind her ear.“Because this is important to you.”
Tana rolls her eyes.“Damn, you two are so sweet, you’re gonna make me puke.Mick and I are staying.I’ll let you know if I hear any more gems, babe.”
I don’t stick around to watch Holly and Tana say their good-byes because I’m already off in search of Ripley.
I catch sight of Hope behind the bar, and she must know exactly what I’m after because she points me in the direction of the employee break room.
Shoving open the door, I find Ripley putting the guitar in a case.I wait to speak until she turns around, but any words I intend to say are erased when I see the tears tracking down her face.
“Sugar, what’s wrong?”
Ripley’s head jerks up as though she just realized I’m standing here.
When she swipes her hands over her cheeks, trying to hide the evidence, I cross the room and pull her into my arms.
“You killed it.Why are you crying?”
With a snuffle, Ripley composes herself.“I always wanted to play onstage with my mama’s guitar, but Pop smashed it when I was thirteen and finally worked up the courage to ask for lessons.He told me there was no way in hell he was going to let me parade myself on a stage like a stripper begging for dollar bills.”
I could kill that old man.Straight up kill him.
“I’m so sorry.I wish I could get it back for you.”
“He’s going to be so pissed when he finds out I’m playing and singing, and I’m not gonna care this time.I’m done letting him control my life.He ran Mama into the ground.Chased her into another man’s arms.That was onhim.He did that.I’m not letting him run me down anymore.I’m done.”
