"Nothing changes if nothing changes", a phrase I'd heard from time to time in my life. I'd always thought of that phrase as a tautology like "it is what it is" or "I'll get there when I get there": meaningless. On the night of my 47th birthday, the meaning of that phrase became abundantly clear.
I was a stylist living in Nashville. Not a hair stylist but the kind of stylist who makes celebrities look good. In my case, I worked with Country artists. I was never impressed by the dated look of the sequin jackets or Wranglers so prevalent on the Country stage. I'm more edgy - dare I say - I like a little more "rock and roll" look. You may have noticed that your favorite Country stars look a little cooler and a bit sexier on stage these days. That's all me. I'd been a pretty sought after stylist in Nashville for 15 years. I styled Country icons as well as newcomers for photo shoots, album covers as well as for stage performances. You didn't think they picked out their own clothes did you? I was good at my job and most of the time I enjoyed it. I just felt that my artistic vision for the Country set was getting a little stale.
I had always lived in Franklin - a suburb of Nashville. My 16 year old daughter, Michaela, who was called "Mick" after Mr. Jagger, and I had a nice house in the suburbs. Mick was a Junior at a great high school. Mick's father was long gone and neither of us ever heard from him. But we had a great, albeit kind of boring life. I knew I needed a change. I just didn't know what to change much less how.
On the morning of my 47th birthday, I looked through my calendar to see what the day held. I noticed a meeting I'd planned a few weeks prior. A dinner meeting. Normally, Mick & I would go to dinner with friends on birthdays. I guess I hadn't realized it was my birthday when I accepted this dinner meeting with a new client who had gotten my name from an old college friend. I couldn't cancel. It was unprofessional and would embarrass my friend. So, at 6 pm I headed out to meet up with Mr. Benjamin Edmead.
I arrived at the downtown Nashville restaurant about a minute early - I like to be at least 10 minutes early - but there was a long line at the valet and it was a warm summer Friday in my tourist town home. I glanced across sea of people waiting for a table in the lobby to see if anyone looked as if they were looking for someone. They all seemed to be in conversation or frustrated by the wait so I made my way into the bar that looked over the restaurant tables and the patio beyond them. Still didn't see anyone who looked like they were waiting for someone. I returned to the now available hostess and told her who I was meeting.
"Ah yes," she said in the southern drawl I knew all too well, "you must be Ms. Stonefort".
"Yes, I am", I replied a bit surprised that this new client had been thorough enough to inform the hostess of my name.
"Mr. Edmead and his guests is in the private dining room."
"Guests!?" I thought. I wasn't told I'd be meeting with anyone but him.
The hostess walked ahead of me up a dark stairway with red shag carpet on the walls and stairs. She shined a small flashlight on the stairs so I wouldn't trip. At the top of the stairs was a dark, heavy looking door. The hostess ran a security badge over a box on the wall beside the door. With a click, the door opened and we stepped inside. I was led down a short hallway to a set of double French doors. I could see the evening light falling on the Nashville skyline. We stepped through the French doors where I was greeted by a tall man with long, dark hair pulled neatly back into a ponytail. When I say tall, I mean tall. I am 5'11" in flats and was wearing a heeled shoe. He was at least 3" taller than me.
"Hello, Ms. Stonefort, I'm Ben Edmead" he greeted me with a thick Australian accent.
"Hello. Please call me 'Stoney' everyone does," I replied in the most southern drawl I'd ever heard come out of my mouth.
YOU ARE READING
He Likes His Girls a Little Bit Older
FanfictionI turned to thank Luke for walking me home. Again we were mere inches apart. This guy didn't really adhere to the rules of personal space. Just then, I felt him move even closer. I could feel his warm breath on my lips - his lips just an inch fro...