“What’s wrong with Rhett that would keep you away from him? That doesn’t exactly instill confidence in me to go after him.”
“Don’t worry! There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s actually quite perfect. He does have a tendency to be closed off, but I think you could get through to him. I haven’t been very successful in the whole four years he’s been here, but you seem to have some sort of effect on him. Besides, Rhett is like a brother to me at this point.”
I purse my lips as I consider her response. “Do you think that’s all he needs? Someone who can open him up?”
“Yes, he’s needed that from the moment he stepped foot in Roots. He just has a lot of things lurking in the shadows, but I think you might know a thing or two about that.” She pins me with a meaningful look. “Yet, look how you’re already thriving here! I think you could help him.”
I want to. I open my mouth to tell her that, but the lights on the stage come on, and everyone in the crowd begins to cheer. There are whistles and howls. I’ve never felt so much energy in one place.
Callie’s eyes light up, and she grabs my hand to drag me off my bar stool. The band comes out first and starts playing a lively tune while the two beautiful brunettes saunter out on stage in tiny denim shorts, cowgirl boots, and almost identical lacey cream tops. The taller one grabs the mic first and sings the opening line.
Immediately, Callie starts wiggling around to the beat. I’m impressed by her ability to time her movements to the tune of the music. She looks hot. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I’m tone-deaf because whenever I try to move to music like that, I look like a fish out of water.
I sip my drink and let the sweet tang of the whiskey coat my tongue, quickly warming my insides and making me feel tingly with just a sip. It’s been way too long since I’ve had alcohol. I’m going to take it nice and easy tonight.
The second sister steps forward and belts out a rich, growly note that coats my arms in chills. Damn, she’s good.
Leaning into Callie’s ear, I ask, “Did you go to school with them too?”
“Who haven’t I gone to school with in this town?”
“I was thinking the same thing, but I wasn’t going to say it out loud.”
Shrugging, she says, “It’s okay. I don’t take offense to it. Most people who have stayed in Roots after high school have come to embrace how small the town is. I’m proud to live here.”
“San Francisco is better, but this place isn’t half bad.”
The smile on her face is immediately wiped clean. “Olivia, I haven’t been to San Francisco, but I canstilltell you it doesn’t compare to Roots. No big city like that could ever compare to Roots. This is the place people come to make ahome.”
“Some people like the big cities.”
“Do you?”
I shrug. “I thought I did.”
She doesn’t say anything in response. She just nods quietly, but as soon as the next song starts, she begins jumping up and down and whooping.
I take another sip of my Old Fashioned and then cheer with her. I might as well make the most of tonight.
* * *
I’m on my second drink now, and as the next song begins, Callie turns to me. “Please tell me you know Shania Twain’s music.”
I wince. “I’m more of a Taylor Swift girl.”
She tilts her head from side to side as if she’s weighing the merit of my answer. “Shania Twain is kind of like the Taylor Swift of country music… except not. She was my idol growing up. I guess we have some work to do while you’re here.”
“Sounds good.” I laugh easily. The warmth of the whiskey is already coursing through my veins. “How about we start with the name of this song?”
“Oh dear, you have so much to learn. This is ‘Any Man of Mine,’ which is just one of the many anthems of all women everywhere that Shania sings.” She grabs my hand and tugs me toward the lines of people that are forming on the dance floor in front of the stage. “Follow my lead.” She begins to tap her boots on the hardwood floors, still holding her drink casually in one hand.
My focus lasers in on Callie’s feet as she continues to tap the toes of her boots on the floor.Okay, this isn’t bad. Maybe this is the one kind of dancing I can actually do.Then she starts moving backward, and I scramble to keep up with the perfectly timed steps, which is difficult when I don’t know the tune of the songat all!Callie bumps into me as she does some sort of grapevine with her feet. She laughs lightly. “We are going to do the same thing in the other direction,” she instructs, but she’s already moving that way.
The second she finishes her other grapevine, she does a weird step where her hips seem to just follow her flinging feet until we are facing another wall. She repeats the toe-tapping, and I follow along, the movement already feeling slightly familiar. This time, I match maybe half of her steps as she steps backward, and I manage to avoid slamming into anyone during the grapevine. I wouldn’t say my feet are weaving perfectly as I step from side to side, but I at least know when to move right and when to move left.
The chaotic spinning step comes again, and I stumble over my own feet, blushing a little as everyone else seems to perform the dance flawlessly. “It takes a while to pick up the box step. Don’t worry about it,” Callie says. “I’ve been doing this since I was eight years old. My sister used to drag my family out to lessons every Wednesday night, so I’m a professional at teaching it now if you want me to show you how to do it later.”
We complete the third sequence, and I’m smiling now because I’m starting to get the dance with the exception of the stupid box step, but then I catch a glimpse of a smirking Rhett leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed. I meet his gaze for the tiniest second before I stumble over myself and try to scramble back in line with everyone else.
