The Firefighter's Refrain

“Ticket?” Sam sat up straighter. “Wait. What?”

“Man. When you take a trip to la-la-land, you really go, don’t ya?” He leaned forward, tapped the tablet again. “I’m trying to cut a deal with you, here, so quit gawking at Finn and pay attention, okay?”

“I wasn’t gawking.” But Mark knew better, so Sam humored him. “What kind of a deal?”

“Let me cut to the chase—while I still have your undivided attention. Eli asked me to buy him out of the business so he can use his share for a new guitar and amp, a mic and gooseneck stand, clothes to wear onstage.”

“And you want me to take his place? As partner?” Sam laughed. “Maybe I need to show you my year-end total.” He shook his head. “I’m a city employee. Trust me, it’s nothing close to that!”

“I know it’s last minute, so I don’t need the whole shebang right now. I can deduct your share out of your weekly paychecks until you’re full in. Or you can skip paychecks altogether and get there sooner.”

Sam had some savings, but between fire department responsibilities, performing and auditioning for producers every chance he got, where would he find the time to comanage a place like The Meetinghouse?

“Business is booming,” he told Mark. “Why not keep the profits all to yourself?”

“Workload, man. Workload. Takes hours to manage the place.”

“Just how many hours do you need from me?”

“That’s up to you.”

“I’d still have time for the Marks Brothers?”

“Absolutely.”

Well, that certainly sweetened the pot. The rumor he’d heard upon arriving in Nashville had proved true: agents, producers and other career makers often paid surprise visits to The Meetinghouse. Maybe if he was in the club more often, one of them would make his career dreams come true.

“If help is all you need,” Sam pointed out, “I can do that without the whole partnership thing.”

“You know the old saying, in for a penny, in for a pound?”

Sam got it: Mark believed he’d work harder if he had more to lose.

“But why me? Torry already knows the business.”

“True, but with the movie roles he’s been getting, he wants the freedom to come and go as he pleases.”

“He said no?”

“He said no.”

Sam chuckled. “Not sure I like being second choice.”

“Does that mean you’re in?”

Finn stepped up to the table. “Do yourself a favor,” she said, refilling their glasses, “and say no.”

“Why?”

One perfectly arched eyebrow rose. “Because it sounds like a pipe dream, and nothing good ever comes of Nashville dreams.”

Finn turned to leave, pausing just long enough to add, “The sandwiches are on the house.”

Sam watched until she disappeared into the kitchen, then looked at Mark.

“What was that was all about?”

Mark picked up a sweet potato fry. “Y’got me by the feet, but don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. You probably broke ten bucks worth of dishes.” He took a bite. “So? What do you say? Can I count on you?”

Sam glanced toward the serving counter, where Finn was engaged in an animated conversation with the cook. She shot a glance over one shoulder and locked gazes with him. He’d read somewhere that according to Indian legend, when a man and wolf locked eyes, their spirits merged. In that mind-numbing, heart-pounding instant, he understood how that might be possible.

Somehow, he found the strength to look away.

“I thought you were picking up the tab...partner.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_87617fc5-72fd-5db9-934f-d4337772a9df)

FINN REFILLED MARK’S coffee mug. “How long have you known that guy you brought in here the other night?”

“Which guy?”

She could tell by the teasing look on his face that he knew exactly which guy.

“The firefighter you were in here with the other day.”

“You mean Sam?” He grinned. “Guess you haven’t heard that curiosity kills that cat, huh?”

“Then, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a cat.” She winked. “So what’s his story?”

“Story?”

Finn held the coffeepot over his lap, and Mark laughed.

“Okay, all right, I’ll talk...if you sit down.”

Sliding into the booth across from him, Finn placed the coffeepot on a napkin.

“Sam came to Nashville for the same reason as most of us did,” Mark explained. “And when he couldn’t find a label to sign him or a band to hire him, he parlayed his volunteer firefighter skills into a full-time job.”

Part-time musicians, in her opinion, were more determined—maybe even desperate—to become full-time entertainers.

“Don’t include me in your motley ‘most of us’ group. I was brought here—against my will, I might add—by parents who didn’t give a fig about anyone or anything but a recording contract.” Finn glanced across the way, where her younger sister was laughing and chatting with Rowdy. “Not even Ciara.”

“But you made the best of a bad situation...”

True enough. Especially considering the aftereffects of Ciara’s head injury—the one she’d sustained in the accident that had nearly killed the entire Leary family. If not for the firefighters, on their way back to the station after a call...

Finn pictured Mark’s friend in head-to-toe gear and wanted to know how he’d hurt his leg. Instead, she asked, “Is he any good?”