Nash had a busy week. He had filmed his song for the Christmas special. When people watched on TV, the specials looked magical. He discovered that there was no magic. Instead, it was a decorated set with cameras and hot lights. Looking festive in a holiday sweater left him as sweaty as he was after a concert.

He sang 'I'll be home for Christmas' even though he wouldn't. The holidays were hard. He wondered what would happen if he went home and shook his brother's hand? He could meet his nieces. Maybe if he hadn't sung about his brother's wife on the radio and to packed arenas.

He smiled his famous smile at the cameras. "I hope everyone can go home for Christmas. Merry Christmas, y'all."

It took multiple takes. When he finished, he ripped the sweater over his head. The star who was headlining the special thanked him.

"I'm a big fan. Someday, I'd love to do a duet."

He smiled. "Have your agent talk to my agent."

He couldn't linger, because they expected him at the recording studio. When he arrived, the background vocalists were in the booth. Clyde was in the control room. Tyler and Cayla were hanging by the crafts table laughing. If he were Rob, he would punch the guy because they were sitting too close.

He grabbed a sandwich and a Coke and sat across from them. He took one bite when Clyde called him in.

"Hey man, what'd I miss?"

"Backups sound good. Tyler's having a grand ol' time with his new best friend."

"I noticed."

"We were discussing the bridge on the cheating song. He's being flipping stubborn."

"Like he can be."

"Yeah, well, Missy record label backed him up. What the hell instrument does she play? Where's her Grammy award?"

"Did you get the track?" He nodded. "Let me listen. "I wrote the darn song." With help from Scarlett.

He slapped on headphones and listened to the drums. "I need more." They had recorded the guitar and bass. He listened over again as he sang the lyrics in his head.

"No, dammit! I didn't write it to sound like a rock song. I'll talk to him."

Bryson, the music producer, said, "No, let me do the dirty work. I'm going to want vocals in twenty."

Nash went to finish his sandwich. He couldn't sing, starving. He sat down to more, laughing.

"Hey, Cayla, how's Rob? I've been too busy to keep up with him."

Tyler glared at him, but Cayla didn't notice. Her face softened. She may be feeding Tyler's ego, but she had feelings for Rob.

"He's good. I guess. I've been so busy. If he stays awake, I see him for a few minutes at night and in the morning, when I wake early enough."

"You sure have been with us a lot. Do you have other artists you need to relate with?"

"None are recording."

If he had spoken, he would have said, you're just getting in the way. Bryson may be dealing with it, but he planned to speak with Wesley.

Recording sessions meant long days. They often started late and went even later. He was dead asleep when his phone rang at seven am.

"Yup."

"Nash."

He would know her voice anywhere. He sat up, suddenly awake. "What's wrong?"

"I need your help."

"Anything. Always."

"It's Law." His spine stiffened. "He's in Chattanooga. He got himself arrested."

"What'd he do?"

"Fight."

Nash had never thrown a fist in his life. He wanted to, a time or two. The two brothers were close, having shared the same womb. They had never fought until they couldn't share the same girl.

"He was probably drunk. I don't have the money and it's so far."

"Darlin', I'll take care of it." He called everyone darlin', but he meant it.

"Thanks. I owe you."

"You don't owe me. Just promise, if you don't feel safe you'll come to me, you and your girls."

"Your momma doesn't know."

"Savannah, I'll take care of it. I'll pay for rehab if he needs it. He's like our daddy."

"You're not?"

"I hardly drink."

It was true. He never drank on the road or at home alone. He might have one at a Haywood party or on a date, like with Scarlett. If he had an addiction, it was for the girl he couldn't have. He should have given her up years ago.

He ended the call and made another. Wesley was always up early.

"Nash, what the hell are you doing up?"

"I need a favor." A part of him wanted to see his brother face to face, but Angel would grab his balls and twist. A drunk twin didn't fit his image. The man they paid to sweep up the mess took control of the situation.

"I'll let you know when it's taken care of."

At two o'clock, Wesley appeared in the recording studio. He glanced at the label rep and the drummer eating together again. He entered the control room and nodded to Nash, who was about to sing the chorus one more time.

Nash said, "I need five."

Clyde, who was in the sound booth next to him, looked between him and Wesley. He hadn't told his best friend about his early morning call. It might explain why he was sluggish all day.

Nash entered the control room with Clyde on his tail. Wesley looked at Bryson. "What's on the schedule?"

"Vocals and maybe some guitar and bass."

"No drums."

"Not today."

"I'm sending him home."

Tyler and Cayla joined them. "What's going on?" Tyler looked at the growing crowd even after the sound engineer stepped out.

Wesley said, "You're done for today. Go home, get some rest. When do you need him again?"

"Not tomorrow."

Tyler shrugged but didn't leave. "I came to have a private word with Nash. Can we grab a booth?"

"Take ten everyone."

Cayla said, "I've got some work to do."

Wesley waited until they were in the soundproof booth. "Is she around all the time?"

"Has been. We'll see if she shows up when he's not around. How'd it go?"

"Jesus, he looks just like you. He wasn't happy you were behind my visit. Whatcha do to him?"

"Wrote songs about his wife."

"Right. What I could gather he started a fight in a bar because 'Almost Heaven' was playing and he wanted it off. Someone pointed out he looked like you, a fatter version, and he threw the first punch."

"So, what's next?"

"Angel knows since the fight was about an Almost Heaven song. Someone will pick up on the Kirkland name and tie it up into one ugly package. We might need to get ahead of it."

"Did you mention rehab?"

"The lawyer you're paying for will handle it."

He nodded. "Just stay on it. I'm more worried about the problems here. Did Bryson talk to you?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna have a one-on-one with Tyler."

The man looked like he should have ulcers. He earned every penny they paid him. On Saturday, Wesley summoned Nash and Clyde to a meeting with Angel, right before they were to wrap up the last song.

When they met in Angel's office, Wesley said, "The shit's hitting the fan."

Clyde said, "Tyler doesn't want to redo the drums. He's wasting time and money."

Wes said, "BVH Records has a code of conduct which has been broken because of Ms. Haywood's conflict of interest. Whatever her relationship is with Tyler, she acted inappropriately siding with him."

Clyde said, "Whatever his relationship is! He's bragging about touching her. Wes, I thought you talked to him."

"He wouldn't admit anything to me."

Nash felt tension tighten his muscles. "What does Beau Haywood say?"

"A lot of profanities. He wants to protect his girl, but Bryson is one of the best producers in town. Either you get a new producer or we sever ties with Tyler."

Nash and Clyde looked at each other. Clyde spoke first. "Can we get rid of him?"

Wesley smiled. "You hired me for a reason. There's a buyout clause in the band agreement. Plus, he'd continue to get his share of royalties from anything he recorded. You two are the band. Legally, he's not equal."

"He never has pulled equal weight." Clyde frowned. "Nash pulls the most."

"No man, you write some and sing lead, too."

"Yeah, but since my kids..."

Angel interrupted them. "There could be backlash either way. If you diss Haywood's daughter, you could be looking for a new label. No telling how he'll react. If you dump Tyler, fans will react. It won't be more than a footnote if you keep recording like you have.

Clyde said, "The new songs sound great. Nash's collaboration with Scarlett worked."

Wesley added, "The beach song is climbing the charts."

Nash said, "What do we do?"

Angel said, "The timing's bad. Your brother is in the supermarket rags. Some headlines say it's you. I've been on it with a statement ready to go. I've bombarded social media with recent pictures of you in studio and filming the Christmas special."

"What am I missing?" Clyde looked at Nash with a frown.

"My brother got arrested in a bar fight. Wes bailed him out and took care of it for me."

Angel cleared her throat. "Anyone on Instagram knows..." She swiped on her phone and held it up for the others to see. "... Knows this is not Nash."

Nash took her iPhone for a closer look. His brother looked like crap. He was out of shape and looked at least thirty. Like so many tabloid covers, the picture was grainy.

"My brother will probably sell his story. Everyone will know I wrote songs about his wife."

Angel waved her hand. "I can spin your broken heart so every female below the Mason-Dixon is shedding tears for you."

"What a PR nightmare." Clyde groaned. "What are we going to do about our drummer problem?"

Nash felt overwhelmed. Too much was happening at once. Fame was a lot harder than he ever imagined. He thought money could solve all problems. It didn't, but it bought Wesley to deal with their issues. He wished they could let him decide about Tyler.

"I think it's one-sided. Cayla has a boyfriend. Do I have a conflict of interest because I'm friends with him?"

Clyde said, "Rob's cool, but I feel sorry for the dude. Even if she's humoring Ty, I wouldn't be happy if the SOB touched my wife."

Angel said, "If she's like her old man, she could be feeding her ego. He's a pig, and she's not doing any favors for women trying to make it in this town professionally, if she's allowing Tyler to perve on her.

Clyde said, "Aren't those young girls in Beau's mansion a conflict of interest."

Wesley said, "None are signed. Rumor is he strings them along."

Nash ran his hand through his hair. "Can we tell him not to touch her and her to stay out of creative discussions?"

Wesley sighed. "I can talk to him. I'll tell him if he doesn't leave her alone, he may find himself a freelancer."

Nash pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could use a drink and y'all saw the reason I don't drink on Angel's phone."

Clyde clapped him on the back. "We're due in the booth. We'll sing and you'll feel better. You should feel proud our third album might be our best one."

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