Graceless (Grace Notes #2)

Lane grinned and ducked back under the water. They resurfaced halfway down the pool and copied her. The two floated in silence in the cool water as the sun finally began to sink behind the hills. Eventually, Lane started to feel pruney. They pulled themselves out of the pool, the stones still baking hot beneath them, the first orange and purple splashes of sunset marking the sky. They looked down. Cassidy looked like a blonde Ophelia, her long hair loosened from her braid and spread out around her, her dress drifting in the water. Her face looked peaceful for once. Lane padded out, leaving her to her thoughts.

Chapter Five

“Alright kid, you ready for this?” Brynn looked at her as the sleek black luxury car pulled up outside the front door, ready to chauffeur them to the studio first thing that Monday morning.

“Do you people do anything for yourselves?” Cassidy was honestly trying to be nice, but they made it so damn difficult sometimes.

Brynn just snorted.

“Have you ever tried to park downtown?” she said, opening the back door to slide in. “You’re welcome to meet us there if your principles are too strong.”

Cassidy sighed and slid in beside her, avoiding her eyes.

“Morning Burt,” Brynn greeted the driver, a solid-looking Black man in his fifties or so, with an impressive mustache.

“Morning!” he replied.

“This is Cassidy, Savannah’s sister,” she introduced. Was she trying to make a point of how nice she was to talk to the help?

“I can see that.” He met her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile. She made her mouth smile back, but honestly, would everyone please stop comparing her to her sister?

The car rolled down the driveway and out of the gate. Rolling green hills, lush paddocks and the occasional stern looking gated drive were all she saw for miles as they wound their way through the clearly luxurious neighborhood. It was like a small piece of Tennessee was sectioned off just for rich people. She was an interloper – she and everyone else who worked as a driver, a cook or a nanny – briefly allowed entrance, but only in service.

Finally, they hit the outskirts of Nashville and Cassidy’s eyes opened wide as she saw the city properly for only the second time in her life. The first had been a matter of four days ago, when she’d been too stressed, frightened and disorientated to take in much of her surroundings. Now, though, from her cushy seat and tinted window, she was awed. From the towering skyscrapers to the flashy honky-tonks and exotic-looking restaurants, Cassidy wanted to slip out on her plans for the day and just explore. Then she looked down at her plain dress and grubby chucks and wished, just for a moment, that she was different. That she was glamorous and well-dressed like her sister.

Of course, that was what today was all about: a first step in the right direction. Her sister might refuse to help her, but if Brynn would take her out and about, then Cassidy would damn well make the most of it.

They moved through the city to what felt like an almost suburban street, beige office blocks, all vaguely industrial. The car pulled up outside a large, low-set brick building.

“Have a great day, ladies,” Burt told them. He didn’t rush to open the door for them – weren’t drivers supposed to? – so Cassidy pulled it open herself and stepped out onto the pavement.

“Welcome to Music Row,” Brynn announced, spreading her arms wide. She walked up the steps and paused, to let Cassidy follow her through the door. “Maggie!” Brynn greeted the pretty young woman who’d been chatting to the receptionist behind the front desk. On Brynn’s arrival, she’d immediately turned, her warm brown eyes lighting up with happiness. Brynn hugged her tightly, as though they went way back, because of course she did. “Cassidy, this is Maggie Dale; she’d be a great person for you to get to know.” Brynn was enthusiastic, like Cassidy could ever match the earnest glow of either one of these women. “She’s part of my promotion team and can tell you all about getting started in the industry.”

Cassidy muttered an awkward greeting. She didn’t want to be a promoter. She wanted to be where Brynn was: causing a flurry of excitement and action purely by walking in the damn door. While Brynn finished signing them in and catching up, Cassidy turned away to examine the space.

Inside, the building was far slicker than the outside led you to believe. Everything was gleaming, dark, beautiful. And framed upon the walls were the covers of all the albums that had been recorded right here in this building. Cassidy’s jaw dropped. Every country music great was represented. Brynn and Maggie’s voices faded away as Cassidy let herself feel the shiver down her spine at every incredible artist that had walked through the same doors she just had.

“Swiftie?” Brynn asked, noting the album she’d stopped to stare at. Cassidy lifted her chin and knowing she was being mocked, scoffed dismissively.

“No,” she lied.

“You’re missing out.” Brynn shrugged. “That’s a hell of an album.”

Cassidy stared after her as she started down the corridor. She couldn’t work Brynn out. Her sister’s wife was hard to read. She was, Cassidy hated to admit, incredibly cool, with her slouching confidence and easy good looks. She seemed less high maintenance than Savannah and less uptight to boot. Still, Cassidy had been straight up shocked when Brynn had volunteered to take her along where Savannah had refused.

Of course she knew Brynn was also an artist, though not at the stratospheric level her sister was. She’d heard their famous duet a thousand times, the one that had ironically reintroduced Savannah back to the market as a solo artist. Cassidy had always thought it was a weird move, to go from the Savannah and Cole of Twice Struck to Savannah and Brynn of Longing fame, but then again, at least at the time of recording the duet they weren’t a couple. Now, in hindsight, to Cassidy’s eyes, it looked kind of sickening. Still, the song had been the biggest hit of her sister’s career so far and had also launched Brynn Marshall.

Cassidy hadn’t listened to Brynn’s album on principle. Who was she anyway, aside from Savannah’s hot gay trophy wife? It grated even more that while Savannah had refused to use her considerable power to help out her own family member, she’d clearly had no qualms using it to turn her future wife into a star.

Brynn knocked on a large imposing door and entered the room, Cassidy following behind her. Inside was an incredible array of recording and mixing equipment – enough to launch a spaceship – and a large imposing white woman. She was very tall, wearing a stern expression under bright statement glasses, and her head was shaved.

“Greta,” Brynn greeted her warmly, the way she seemed to greet everyone. “This is Cassidy, Savannah’s sister.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Her accent was European. German? She looked somewhere just north of extremely unimpressed by a relative of Savannah’s turning up in the studio and Cassidy steeled herself, trying to figure out how to fight if Greta tried to send her home. “Are we ready to start?” she asked Brynn flatly instead. Brynn nodded.

“We recorded a couple of tracks just before the wedding,” she explained to Cassidy. “Greta wants a redo of the vocals.”

Greta flicked a switch, and Cassidy gasped. A room appeared on the other side of the glass wall in front of the mixing deck. The recording studio itself was dark, opulent and beautiful, lit by huge red fabric lanterns that gave the room a warm, soft glow. Brynn grinned at her awed response.