*Ophelia*

I don’t answer any calls from Mac Daddy until I’m in a taxi.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. Where have you been?” he snaps.

“Busy,” I deadpan. “I’m going to Little Rock.”

I’m sure if he were standing before me, I’d watch my manager’s jaw hang down to his feet. I’d thought long and hard about what to do since my last call with Mac Daddy yesterday. I'd been sitting in my hotel room, repeatedly reviewing our ...