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  Sophie shrugged Weston off and came forward so quickly, Victoria really thought she’d hit her. “After everything I’ve done for you? All the sacrifices I’ve made? You’ve always been so ungrateful.”

  “Don’t rewrite history to keep yourself on the cross, Mom. You’ve lived your life the way you’ve wanted, and you’ve never denied yourself anything.” Being the peacemaker was a mantle she was ready to shed, and she’d have to learn to live with whatever came of leaving. “I’m going, and if it makes you feel better, go ahead and blame me. Just think, now there’ll be no more nagging about anything. You’re free to fall off any stage you want.”

  Victoria turned to go but stopped when the phone rang. “Roddy residence,” she answered robotically, unable to help herself.

  “Sonny Liner’s office for Sophie Roddy,” a woman said. “He’d like to invite Ms. Roddy to his home for a meeting. Would she be available around five this afternoon?”

  “Let me check.” She put the caller on hold and relayed the message.

  “See, what did I tell you?” Sophie said, laughing. “Tell him he can go fuck himself.”

  “Ms. Roddy isn’t available this afternoon, but we’ll be in touch.” She hung up and walked out. Whatever came next was up to her mother. The scenic drive back to the city made her go slowly, and she finally stopped at an overlook on the Cumberland River.

  The ripples that outlined the current made her think of her own life, and how she’d had as much chance of carving her own way as a leaf in the fast-moving water. All those afternoons with her grandfather teaching her how to plant a garden, or her grandmother and her homemade cobbler, were like a different lifetime.

  “Time to start living and thinking for yourself.” She spoke the words to the wind and tossed a rock into the river as a reminder that she didn’t want to get sucked back into her mother’s life.

  There was enough money in the bank to give her time to decide her next move. Granted, she’d been her mother’s manager, but she’d only been responsible for the tours and studio time. If she no longer worked for her mother, what would she do? Where could she go? The options and release left her breathless.

  Her drive home helped relax the tension across her shoulders, and finding her best friend, Josette, waiting on the steps leading up to her apartment with a bag of takeout completely brightened her mood. Josette was a bartender at the Whiskey Bent Saloon, and they’d met when Victoria had sat in on the piano with the band one night.

  “You’ve sounded bummed lately, so I’ll trade you a beer for a Prince’s hot chicken sandwich.” Josette held up the bag and shook it.

  “God, I love you. You’re always guessing what I want most in life, and right now it’s that sandwich and you.” They climbed the stairs arm in arm, not in any hurry. “If I had champagne, we’d have that, but beer will have to do.”

  “Are we celebrating something?” Josette got plates and napkins, having been there often enough to know where everything was.

  “I quit my job, and Sophie is headed for retirement. It’ll be up to whoever to break it to her, but thankfully it won’t be me.” She laughed at Josette’s stunned expression.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Don’t lie and tell me you didn’t see or hear about that fucking slow-motion breakdown she had last night. If you didn’t, you’re the only one in Nashville, since we got schooled on social media happenings by the asshole Banu sent.” She took a sip of her beer before taking a huge bite out of her sandwich. “The bitch seemed to take some perverse pleasure in reading us the negative comments on the viral videos.”

  “I did see it, at the bar, actually.” Josette took her own bite, but it seemed more like a way to stop talking than to actually satisfy her hunger.

  “What?” She stared at Josette, and she could swear it made her chew slower. “Come on, tell me. It can’t be any worse than last night.”

  She swallowed and shrugged. “The videos of Sophie showed up on the news last night all right, but they weren’t shot by some yahoo with a phone. It appeared to be the Opry’s feed, complete with close-ups.”

  “That’s probably why Liner wants to meet with her.” She put her sandwich down. Her appetite had disappeared at the news. “You know Sophie is a pain in the ass, but I love her. I can’t help it.”

  “I know, sweetie, but from that close-up they got of her, she looked totally out of it. Maybe if this forces her to get her shit together, she’ll at least be alive.”

  “It was horrific.” Victoria could still see her mother falling off the stage to the floor below, and it made her stomach lurch. “And she acted like we were crazy for making a big deal out of this. She needs to get her shit together, and the first step is sending Weston packing, but she’d let me go first. Hell, she didn’t exactly put up a fight when I told her I was going.” Maybe she wasn’t responsible for Sophie any longer, but she had to call and warn her before she shot her mouth off. The two labels she’d called for her mom that morning didn’t want to have a conversation.

  Josette reached for her hand and peered at her with a mixture of sympathy and pity. “If she was still a gold mine like Colt Kenny, believe me, her label would be on television swearing on their mama’s head it was an allergic reaction to something, but Sophie’s got to know Liner’s not going to pull out all the stops for her. She’s a legend, but a legend with waning sales.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” She didn’t want to get angry at Josette, but no one really had any idea of the extent of the problem. The drugs were killing her mother, and there was nothing slow about it. “Rehab doesn’t work unless she buys in, and the great Sophie Roddy doesn’t think there’s a problem. The problem is everyone else.”

  “I totally get that. Now tell me how you’re doing?”

  “I’m nauseous from the roller coaster my mom’s life is, but fate is conspiring against me to keep me from leaving.” Leaving was the only option to keep sane, but a lifetime of guilt if her mother died wasn’t worth the gamble. If something happened, and it was going to happen, and she wasn’t there, it would be totally on her. No one would ever convince her otherwise, no matter how rational their argument. She was in this train wreck to the end.

  Josette laughed and hugged her. “If that’s your opening, then it’s downhill from here. Keep repeating the words tough love, and let your mom find her way. If you don’t, all you’re going to do is make yourself sick.”

  They talked and finished lunch, enjoying their time to catch up. Josette left after getting her to swear they’d get together soon, and she promised to keep an eye out for anyone needing a piano player.

  She took a nap with the television on HGTV, not wanting to see any coverage of what had happened to her mother. Being there in person had been bad enough. It was the incessant buzzing of her phone that finally woke her to the dark apartment. She’d slept way longer than she’d imagined, and the caller quit then started up again.

  “Victoria?”

  She squinted, trying to read the clock on the microwave. It was almost nine, which meant she’d be up all night after her four-hour nap. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Weston.” He sounded out of breath and anxious, and neither was good. “It’s Sophie. You’d better come.”

  “Where is she?” She scrubbed her face with her hand, hoping it would make her more alert. “Where is she, Weston?” She spoke slowly and with the kind of authority that would hopefully cut through whatever high he was on.

  “She’s on the bed and moaning, but I can’t wake her up. You need to come.”

  “I’m on my way. You need to tell me what she took, and don’t fucking lie.” She grabbed her keys and wallet before taking the stairs so fast she thought she might trip and fall. “Put whatever it was on the nightstand.”

  “Okay, but we don’t have prescriptions for none of this shit.”

  “That’s never stopped either of you before.” The call disconnected and she wondered if it was from the dead zone or if Weston was p
lanning to run so none of this would come back on him. She dialed 911 and told them what she could, and to break in if that’s what it took. There was no way she’d let her mom die. Not like this.

  The ambulance was outside when she got there, and she ran up to the master bedroom, praying she wasn’t too late. “Is she breathing?”

  An EMT sitting on the bed holding a pill bottle nodded. “She is, but a few more minutes, and we’d have been too late. You know how many of these she took?”

  He handed her the bottle, and her heart twisted at the fact it was empty. Her mother couldn’t have been that stupid, but Weston had taken advantage of her ignorance, and there was no going back. “Where’s the guy she was with? Did he let you in?” The need to sit was overwhelming at the sight of her mother’s still body on the bed. Her worst fear had taken less than a day to come true, and she wanted to scream from the frustration of her own weakness, of her mother’s stupidity, and with the whole damn situation.

  The thought of this being the rest of her life made her close her eyes. It depressed her, but this wasn’t the time to dwell. No matter what she wanted, it would always have to wait until she dealt with her mother’s problems.

  “There was no one here and the front door was wide open, so we came in. We’re going to have to transport,” the EMT said as that precise order came over his radio. “You can follow us.”

  She walked down with them, holding her mom’s hand until they reached the stairs. Sophie was her only family, and if she died, none of what she left behind would matter. Victoria would be alone. Her hands shook on the steering wheel. Her mother had never looked so close to death before, and Victoria’s emotions were a storm of chaos. Anger, frustration, despair, fear…they crashed into one another, melding and choking her.

  It took the doctor an hour before he came out and told her Sophie was stable after they’d pumped her stomach and given her something to counteract the drugs in her system. “I hope she realizes how very close she was to this turning out differently. Your mother needs help, and she needs it now.”

  “I’ve tried, believe me, but she doesn’t think there’s a problem. Even when she nearly dies.” The waiting area was packed, but she was utterly alone. Her grandparents were gone, and her father had run the minute Sophie told him she was pregnant. At least, that was Sophie’s story when Victoria had been old enough to ask.

  “Hopefully, between the two of us, we can convince her otherwise.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You can go on back if you want.”

  She followed him and took a deep breath before going in. “Hello, Mom.”

  “Do you want something?” Sophie asked in a voice so raspy Victoria barely understood her. “What are you doing here? I thought you were done. So, what?”

  “You almost died, that’s what. I could’ve lost you, and you don’t seem to care.” She hardly ever cried, but she couldn’t help let the tears fall. “Wake up before it’s too late.”

  “I swear, you’re like a broken record. Where’s Weston?” Sophie was acting like she was waking up from a nap and was ready to go out for drinks and dinner.

  “He called me, then he took off. He’s a prince of a guy.” She sat and Sophie followed her with her eyes. “He was nice enough to leave the front door open for the EMTs.”

  “Why do you care?” Sophie slurred her words as if the high hadn’t worn away yet.

  “I’m here because I love you.” She wiped at her face, trying to stop crying. Her mother probably thought those were empty words, but she felt the truth of them to her core. Love was the one thing she couldn’t let go of, but it also bound her to see this out no matter the outcome. Eventually, she’d have to examine the truth of why she couldn’t let go and look at the damage it was doing to her own soul. “But we need to talk about the future.” That Sophie stared at her without a word encouraged her. “And we can have a good future if you listen for once.”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t understand anything.”

  “Then make me.”

  After a long silent moment filled only with the beeping of the machines around them, Sophie started talking. Victoria didn’t think what she was saying made much sense, but all the insecurities and experiences she’d never shared with anyone were clearly what had driven her to numb her life with drugs and whiskey.

  “Jesus.” Victoria held her mom’s hand as Sophie cried softly, looking like an old woman who’d lost everything, and nothing like the country superstar the world knew.

  This was going to take so much more than rehab, but she wasn’t giving up. “We’ll get through this together, and I’ll be right beside you, but you’ll have to do the work.” They were words she’d said before, but she couldn’t deny the flicker of hope that this time, things would be different.

  * * *

  The original house built on Mason’s property was a dilapidated mess when she’d purchased the land, but she’d made numerous trips home during the renovation of the old house, as well as the construction of the new house up the hill. She loved the house she’d constructed to her specifications, but she also spent a lot of time in the old place that was now a one-room guesthouse, though she used it more as a studio and office. It was nice for those days she didn’t want to go into the city. And it wasn’t all that far from her parents’ place, which was a bonus.

  Her job would always revolve around the business part of Banu, but she’d taken her father’s advice to her soul. Sonny Liner wanted to find talent and introduce it to the world, but it always had to be about the music. You had to believe in music as well as the people.

  She was reviewing contracts with Sophie Roddy’s greatest hits playing in the background, and she had to stop every so often to listen to the true beauty of Sophie’s voice as well as the depth of her lyrics. Sophie probably hadn’t written the lyrics, but it had to be someone close to her. It wasn’t a stranger, since Sophie had to put too much heart in the songs.

  “You should listen to your own stuff sometime,” she said to an empty room. Sophie Roddy had a gift, and it’d be a lasting one to her fans. The sad part was Mason truly believed Sophie had so much more to give.

  Her cell ringing made her turn the music down and answer. “Something wrong?” She and her father had spent the day together, and Sonny wasn’t a fan of the phone.

  “You’re such a pessimist.”

  She made one final note in the margin of the contract before leaving it for her assistant to deal with. “Sorry, were you in the mood for a sensitive chat?”

  “Kid, you know everything about me, and you know how nuts I am about you, so that’s a no on the sensitive chat.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I need you to come back. I want you to handle something for me, and while I promise I won’t interfere, we need to talk about it before you start.”

  “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

  She put her boots back on and walked up the hill in the dark to the main house and her truck, not wanting to keep him waiting and wondering what he had in mind. Her father had brought her back from California earlier than they’d planned, and she hadn’t questioned it. Now she wondered if she should’ve. Maybe he was sick or something and had waited to talk about it.

  Woody’s car was there, and it made her want to turn toward home again. Anything that required PR on Saturday night wasn’t going to be fun. “Did you guys want to keep up the party?” She found everyone in the kitchen and took the time to kiss her mom’s cheek.

  “Shit like this does make me want to drink, Buckaroo, but it ain’t from no sense of fun,” Sonny said with a long sigh. “Come on, let’s get comfortable.”

  They headed to the big den, and she took the seat next to the sofa. “Something happen? I only left an hour ago.”

  “It’s Sophie Roddy,” Woody said.

  “What about her?” Mason had called more than once and gotten no answer until the woman basically gave her the don’t call us—we’ll call you li
ne. “If she’s smart, she’s at home coming to grips with her new reality.”

  “What reality is that?” Amelia asked appearing curious.

  “She’s a legend who fell off the stage at the Grand Ole Opry,” she said with exaggerated slowness. “And she fell off that stage, of all places, because she was drunk, high, or both. Once the laughter dies down, the pity will kick in, and it’ll be just as bad. Believe me, the first oh, bless her heart she gets will be it.” What she was saying was true. People like Sophie were legends for a reason, but their downfall was often of their own making.

  “You think she’s done, then?” Amelia asked. Her father and Woody stayed quiet.

  “Mom, you, Dad, and Mr. Woody know way more about these kinds of things than me, and have more experience with how to handle them, but I think, eventually, folks like Sophie become a bucket-list checkmark.”

  Sonny laughed at that, and Amelia slapped him in the stomach. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “She’s in the same league with Cash, Haggard, and Nelson, but unlike them, she stagnated. Her music has become secondary to her lifestyle of booze and drugs, and instead of staying relevant, she’s become the type of artist people put on their bucket lists, so they can say they saw her before she killed herself.” She could tell that wasn’t what her mom wanted to hear, but it was the truth. “People are going to want to go to anything she’s involved in, if only to see if she takes a flying leap off the stage.”

  “She’s not worth fighting for, then?”

  “If she gives a damn, then yes. If she wants to keep boozing, then no. Trying to help someone who doesn’t want to change anything is like beating your head against the wall and not expecting to have a massive headache.”

  Amelia nodded and so did Sonny.

  “She’s in the hospital recovering from what sounds like another overdose, and it’s going to take the media and the tabloids about a second to figure out that’s what’s happened.”

  Mason stared at Woody, not believing what he was saying. It was like Sophie wanted to fast-track her demise and not just her music career. “Already? Is she okay?”