It pleases me when you’re a good girl and behave yourself.
Soon.
All my love.
M
Clearly M is a few bricks short of a load.
Focus.
Forget the stupid letters and concentrate.
What do I need to do right now to be taken seriously in this business? I repeat the question softly to myself while I continue shuffling the deck.
When I’m satisfied, I lay out my three cards and turn them over one by one.
Three of Swords.
Ten of Swords.
Justice.
I stare at the cards.
Breathe. Don’t freak out.
There are no “good” or “bad” cards. They represent a spectrum of meaning. At least, that’s what some people say. It’s trendy to try and put a positive spin on the cards that lean negative. But my momma always insists I read the hand I’m dealt the way it’s dealt.
I pick up the booklet that came with the deck and flip through the pages. These all seem related to interpersonal relationships or…I don’t know what.
I was asking a career question.
Maybe the universe doesn’t give a crap about your questions.
Three of Swords—the card depicts three swords piercing a full heart. Representative of unexpected painful events. Heartache, separation, sadness.
Well, I miss Rooster. That’s not a surprise.
I set aside other interpretations that say the card can indicate infidelity and breakups.
Ten of Swords—a man facedown with ten swords in his back.
A sign of an unwelcome surprise in the future. So, I won’t get nominated for a CMA? That’s not exactly a surprise either.
Again, I ignore that it can also indicate a breakup.
Or the obvious interpretation that someone’s going to stab you in the back.
Justice. Okay, this isn’t a bad card. Unless you’re a serial killer or something. Justice can also restore balance and order in some way if you’ve been wronged.
I sweep my gaze over the cards again. Maybe whoever’s going to stab me in the back will get what they deserve? And the painful events can be a learning opportunity?
Dammit, why can’t the universe be a little more direct?
I bite my lip and continue studying the cards. Who would stab me in the back? Except for Trent, I’m not really close to any of the guys in my band. They were hired specifically for this tour. We get along okay but Trent’s closer to them than I am.
Greg hasn’t been my manager for long. I don’t always trust him. Then again, it’s hard for me to trust anyone. Always has been.
Except Rooster. I trust him more than I probably should.
Don’t go there. I asked a career question. This ain’t a love reading.
I jot down the cards and their positions in my notebook to study later.
The jumper card catches my eye and I flip it over.
The Devil.
My heart thuds louder, drowning out all the other noises. Never gotten that one before. It’s not as evil as it seems. But it can indicate addiction, obsession, or negativity of some sort in my life. Sometimes it can hint at self-destruction.
I jot a few notes and close my journal.
Another chill races down my spine and this time it’s got nothing to do with the air-conditioning.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Rooster
The morning of Anya’s interview, the clubhouse seems to be empty. Guess Ice wasn’t lying when he said he had somewhere else to be.
I meet her at the bar. She keeps rocking from side to side on her feet and startles when I approach.
“Easy, it’s just me. You ready to go?”
“Are you sure you don’t mind taking me?” She drops her head, her long wheat-blond hair covering her face. “I just never know what I’m going to encounter. . .”
It’s not on the top of things I’m in the mood to do today but the whole point of me coming down here was to help out. Eventually, Ice needs to pick a brother he trusts to escort his stars but today, I’ll handle it.
“No problem.”
She glances toward the parking lot. “You got an extra helmet?”
“You’re not riding on the back of my bike.” That came out harsher than I intended. I tack on a, “sweetheart,” to soften the rejection. But no fucking way is anyone except Shelby claiming that spot.
Her wide eyes meet mine. Her slick red lips part but no words come out. Guess guys don’t say no to her often.
“Back of my bike’s for my ol’ lady.” Not that I owe her an explanation.
“Oh. Of course. I didn’t realize. I thought.” She blows out a breath and snaps her mouth shut.
“You ready?” I nod to her oversized, long-sleeve shirt and jeans. “We don’t have a lot of