Girl With Guitar by Caisey Quinn Page A

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. No use having a breakdown in front of Pauly.
    “You okay, kid?” he asked, bringing her back to the present.
    She nodded.
    “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you, I just…look, Trace is not a bad guy, and typically I stay out of his personal life as much as I possibly can but…” Pauly ran a hand over his face and stared at her for a second. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get involved with him right now,” he began. She opened her mouth to tell the man he was way off, but he held up a hand. “Hear me out.”
    She sat back and waited.
    “If you want to be Kylie Ryans , country music artist who gets taken seriously, it would be…unwise to align yourself with an already established artist in any way other than professionally. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen. Now, if you want to be Kylie Ryans, Trace Corbin’s little sideshow fling, then by all means, party it up.” Pauly leaned back to signal he’d said his piece.
    She didn’t miss the way he’d said her name each time. The first time had been with reverence. The second had been with contempt.
    “You understand what I’m saying?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” she choked out. “Got it.” No way she could go to a party with Trace and not risk losing Pauly’s respect and probably any shot at having him manager her. But watching Trace onstage, she wanted to go. Badly. That, combined with the excitement so clear on Rae’s face, and the thought of letting the girl down when she didn’t show, made it even harder to imagine backing out. Even though she had to.
    K ylie stood naked on the bus. Trace still hadn’t come back on from the bar, even though she was pretty sure his set had ended.
    She stared into her closet. Pajamas. She should put on pajamas and tell Trace she wasn’t feeling so hot and was just going to call it a night.
    But her “I rode the bull at Bud’s” tank top caught her eye and she remembered the perfect fit of those designer jeans from her last show. If she were going to the party, that’s what she would wear. With her perfectly worn in cowgirl boots. And she’d take her hair down and just let it be wild. Maybe she’d dance with Trace a time or two, if it was that kind of party. Not that she was going. She wasn’t. But a girl could fantasize, couldn’t she?
    Lulu would strangle her if she knew Kylie was about to turn down Trace’s invitation. You only get one shot at life, she could practically hear her friend saying. Yeah, but she didn’t want to ruin that life for one night of drunken stupidity. But those jeans and that smile, and he was just so… male . It would probably be worth it.
    No. If this didn’t work out, she had nothing to go back to. Nothing.
    Well…that wasn’t entirely true. Clive had said she would always be welcome back at The Rum Room. Right, ‘cause waiting tables and cleaning hospitality rooms wouldn’t seem like a nightmare compared to this.
    Jammies it is . Just as she grabbed some sweats from the narrow wooden dresser, she heard voices. Trace was back.
    A loud rapping on her door nearly gave her a heart attack.
    “Kylie Lou, you ready?”
    How on earth does he know my middle name? It wasn’t exactly something she went around telling people. It had been her grandfather’s name on her mom’s side. He had passed away a week before she was born.
    “Um, yeah, about the party—”
    “You backing out on me?” The hurt in his voice nearly eviscerated her.
    “No, I was just trying to decide what I should wear.” And if there’s any way I can still manage to have a career after tonight.
    Trace’s laughter made her feel better and worse. “Just throw on whatever. My family won’t care. But we need to get goin’. Getting out of the parking lot is going to be a nightmare.”
    “Um, are we taking the bus?” Kylie wondered out loud as she pulled on her jeans and nearly toppled over.
    “Definitely not.” She heard a muffled laugh from the other side of