20 comments/ 65154 views/ 39 favorites I Love You, Good Carlene By: Dinsmore Phil Vassar had a big hit with a song called, "Carlene". It's seems only fitting to expand the story of "good Carlene" with a few changes and twists. As is my habit the characters are larger than life. There is no real nasty sex in this romantic story. Don't read it looking for the stroke material and then bitch because it isn't there. Yes, it is a somewhat formulistic love story...I always seem to slip back to the formula I enjoy. Edited by "Crazysoundguy". "Welcome to Carlene's 'business family'. You are replacing someone who has been with her since day one, one of her best friends. It was time for her to get off the road and start a family. With a full point share of the business and a strong desire to have children, I don't expect her to come out of retirement in the near future. Carlene demands stability in her team. You've probably been poked, prodded and checked out more than a candidate for President. Your credentials are as good as it gets. Carlene likes you---so do I. Always remember rule number one: Carlene is the CEO of this outfit; she doesn't micromanage, she hires people she trusts, gives them clear guidelines and expects them to act with integrity on her behalf. Carlene has more integrity in her little finger than the rest of the industry combined. I hope you have discovered over the last few weeks that she is neither a 'celebrity' nor a 'diva' and she has none of the weird quirkiness of most stars. She is a kind soul with a big heart but she does not suffer fools, nor have any tolerance for people who are unethical or dishonest. This business has made her tough and given her a thick skin. Don't ever mince words with her or tell her what you 'think' she wants to hear. She expects---demands---candor, openness and honesty. She is loyal to those close to her---and expects the same in return. If you're ever not sure of an action---ask. Ask me first and if I'm not sure, I'll tell you to ask Carlene. I never assume---you shouldn't either." "I've gotten to know her a little bit, but, well, what's the 'story' on Carlene?" "Other than being one of the most beautiful women in the world, a perfect size two, with the voice of an angel, an uncanny ability to pick or write the perfect song every time, astounding business acumen, an IQ that's off the charts, more industry awards---to include eighteen Grammy's---than she has room on her mantle for and on the way to becoming a billionaire by the time she is thirty?" "You know what I mean...her personal life...guys...love life...romance..." "She doesn't have either a love life or a personal life...I take that back, she does have a personal life. She is extremely private about it and it involves nothing more exotic than spending time on her farm, far away from everyone in the 'business' alone with her dogs with regular and special time with her family---mom, dad and siblings." "How old is she really?" "She's twenty-eight, as advertised. She graduated from high school at sixteen---skipped twelfth grade and earned her PhD before she was twenty-one---even took ROTC and accepted a commission in the Army Reserves. She started modeling to help with college expenses and ended up on the cover of Vogue and every other magazine. She graduated to TV ads while she was still in grad school. One of the early ads she did called for her to sing; they were going to voice over with a 'professional'. In order to lip sync it, she had to sing the song in the video. The producer discovered that she sang better than the singer they had hired. The rest is history. She wrote all the songs on her first album which went double diamond. She prefers to write all of her own stuff but with the top song writers in the industry offering her their best stuff she'd be a fool to refuse---and Carlene is no fool. She has a vault full of her own songs, every one a potential top ten hit. She's big enough now---hell, she's a frigging icon---that she's going to dramatically cut back on touring just like King George and Shania, not more than one very selective tour every two or three years. She'll slip into the studio a couple of times a year to bang out another multi-platinum album. She has her own label---and produces her own albums. Everyone in the industry wants her to produce for them." "So, she's finally going to have time for a personal life---and a love life?" "Personal life, yes. She's very close to and protective of her family. Love life? I don't know. First, it's not easy being one of the ten most beautiful women in the world, a mega-star and a near billionaire and finding romance. Most guys are completely intimidated by her...her looks...her success...her wealth...her talent. Carlene is not into casual romance. The business types---the moguls---aren't her type. I know for a fact that she isn't interested in dating other performers...particularly the ones that might even approach her level of success. Any guy that marries her is going to be viewed as...who was that loser that pop tart married? You know who I'm talking about. Shania was a different story all together. She and her hubby connected on an artistic and a personal level. He is not remotely intimidated by her beauty, talent and fame---hell, he's been an integral part of it! I honestly hope there is a special someone out there for Carlene; she deserves nothing but the best in life. She has a heart of gold...she truly is, 'good Carlene'. Whoever he is, he's going to have to be someone pretty special, secure in who he is, not put off by fame and wealth or intimidated by her accomplishments or her intellect." "Any prospects on the horizon?" "Not that I know of. I mean, I'm her manager---although Carlene controls every major business move---so I guess I'd know. I think there was a guy, back in college, or was it high school? No, it had to have been college. They were pretty serious in that first adult love way. I don't have any sense that it ended badly; life and careers just got in the way. I'm almost positive they don't stay in touch...but she has his picture in a locket that she never takes off and that has to mean something." "So what's on the agenda for her this morning?" "Right now she's listening to several songs that people are pitching to her. She's not happy with the current album project; she wants it to be a stunner since she's going to take some time off. We've got more than enough stuff on tape to release it, it's just not the package she's looking for. Speak of the devil, here she comes!" "Hey Simon! Good morning guys. So Marie, what kind of dirt is my favorite manager sharing with you? I hope he's helping you get settled in?" "He's been extremely helpful." "I'd like to remind you that I'm your only manager---I was your first manager---and I live only to meet your needs." Turning to Marie, Carlene spoke. "Try not to become quite as much of a sycophant as my first and only manager has become, okay, Marie?" The three business friends laughed in unison. "Yes ma'am." Marie replied, having learned that the barbed banter was an integral part of the very special relationship that Carlene and her inner circle enjoyed. "What's up hon?" Simon inquired. "I just listened to three songs that may well have been the best three songs I've ever heard in my life...certainly far better than anything I've ever written. It's uncanny...they were written for me to sing. One is a duet; I don't recognize the guy's voice but he's amazing. We need to get in touch with this guy and the song writer if he's not the guy singing, now, before he peddles it to Faith, Shania, Reba or someone else. I'd really like to get him in the studio for the duet." "What's his name, or his manager's name? I'll get on it!" "That's just it, there's no manager, no name---nothing but a phone number, hand written in glitter on the CD...strange. Do you mind digging in to this?" "I live to serve." Simon replied. Simon went back to his office and dialed the number; he received an answering machine. "If you called this number it must be pertaining to three songs I wrote for Carlene. Leave your name and number and I'll call you back within ten minutes." Simon left his name and number with no further elaboration. Simon sat back in his chair and contemplated his next move. The phone rang. He answered it. "This is Simon." "Simon, I'm returning your call, my name is...Phil." "Phil, Carlene listened to the songs you submitted and has a passing interest in your work. I'd like to..." "I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Simon. I had hoped she'd actually like them a lot---not simply have a passing interest in them. I wrote them with her in mind but I'm sure Shania can handle them quite admirably or maybe I'll just spread them around. Have a nice day." The phone went dead. Simon contemplated some more and redialed the number. "Look, Phil, I'm sorry if we got off to a bad start. Carlene liked your songs a great deal...she loved them. She'd like to arrange to record them. She'd also like to meet the male singer who..." "So you lied to me Simon?" "I apologize, it was just a negotiating ploy." "I'm the male singer on the duet. If Carlene wants to record the songs, they're hers. There was no real need for you to negotiate, I'm sure your---her---standard song contract will be fine. Let me give you an email address to send the contract to." Simon entered the email address he received; it was obviously a law office. He sent the required documentation. "Carlene is also interested in singing the duet...with you, if it works out." "What's the time frame?" "She needs to get the next album completed by the end of the month." "I'm out of the country at the moment. I'll be back at the end of the week for one week, then back on the road. Any chance we can schedule some studio time next week?" "Carlene will be out of the city at her farm but she has a complete studio there. She doesn't normally like to bring new talent into that venue but let me see what she thinks. Can you hang on for a minute or so?" "Sure." Simon buzzed Carlene to fill her in. "Who is this guy, again?" "I'm not sure, hon, I'll explore that. He's pretty emphatic about the time frame." "Okay, set it up. The songs are all acoustic on the demo and I'm pretty sure I don't want to change that. It's piano and guitar with no overdubbing. Find out if he can get the same pianist and I'm sure I can cover the guitar work or maybe he plays. Arrange transportation and I'll have my board guy standing by...he lives just down the road from me. Assume we need two---maybe three days." "Phil? Simon, how does next Wednesday sound?" Simon knew Carlene liked a couple of days to unwind when she went home. "That'll work." "It's quite a hike up there, so you may want to come in the night before; I can arrange travel and lodging for you. There's a small village with several nice B&Bs within fifteen minutes." "I'll fly in---she does have her own air strip, doesn't she? Do you have the coordinates handy?" "Actually I do, let me pull them up." "I live less than an hour from there, at least at Citation speed; I assume her strip can handle the Citation CJ3? Four thousand feet would be nice." "I've landed there in her G150 several times." "Great! That says over 5,000 feet so that'll work. . I'll take you up on the offer to arrange lodging and transportation to and from the village. What time does she like to get started?" "Eight o'clock too early? Can you bring the same piano player?" "That'll work; I'm an early riser. I am also the piano man." "Phil, just a little background information, if you'd be so kind. I assume this isn't your first song writing experience?" "No, Simon, it's not, but it's not what I do for a living---it's what I do for fun. I've written under several aliases depending on the genre. I write in this specific genre under...well, you're obviously sitting in front of your computer; look these songs up...there all country and I wrote them, some with star collaboration but it's all essentially my work." "Wait a minute! I've seen that name before. Didn't you write that song for King George..." "Several. Look, not unlike Carlene and George, I'm very protective of my privacy and I never mix my day job with my song writing...fair enough?" "Okay, well on the subject of collaboration, Carlene, not unlike Alison, never expects song writing credit for a word change here or there and from her reaction I think she likes your songs just the way they are so there shouldn't be an issue." Whatever Carlene is comfortable with, Simon. By the way, I was fibbing a little myself. If Carlene had not wanted to record the songs I probably wouldn't have let anyone else have them. I wrote them for her...I believe she is the only artist who can do them justice." "Dare I ask what your day job is?" "I buy and sell things; I also travel too damn much, a habit I'm planning to curtail." "Where the heck are you right now?" "In Switzerland about to enjoy breakfast with my second favorite chanteuse and her family. 'Gotta go." It could have been BS but something told Simon that Phil was in fact about to dine with the most successful female country artist in history and her family. He trotted next door to brief Carlene. "So who is this guy, Simon, other than one of the most talented song writers on earth?" "Writing songs is a hobby. He's some kind of business dude. I have no idea what he looks like or how old he is. I guess you'll find that out when his jet crew drops him off in your back yard. He made it clear that he wrote the songs for you---if you want them. I'm pretty sure that right this minute he is having breakfast with a certain Canadian brunette who happens to be your same dress size." "Well, more surprises, Simon. I put the CD on my laptop and there are data files, all the sheet music, multiple arrangements and this...I printed it off." Dear Carlene, These are love songs...real love songs...songs you can feel...touch...hold. I wrote them for you, "good Carlene" because no one in the world delivers a love song the way you do. I hope these songs help you find the true love in your heart that you so richly deserve. Phil "Sweet and not remotely weird...almost touching." "I think I'm going to enjoy working with this guy. I'm going to make a couple of calls and get some more skinny." Carlene called several artists who had recorded songs written by Phil. All had glowing comments. The King himself called back the next day—they were friends and had toured together---to ice the cake. "Carlene, Phil is one of my favorite people in the world. He's almost like a son to me. He's a straight shooter and an astounding musician in his own right. If he ever decides to quit his day job he could be a star in our business. You'll enjoy working with him and I know he's a huge fan of yours." "Almost like a son to me?" George had said...Carlene was roughly the same age as George's son... Maybe he should have just called her on the phone...no, wait a minute, you don't just call a mega star on the phone....you have to go through underlings... "Hi, my name is Phil and Carlene and I used to be friends, well more than friends...and, well, I got busy getting rich and she got busy getting rich and famous and we've lost touch over the years and I was just wondering if maybe she'd like to get together for coffee or whatever just for old times sake." He wondered what might have happened if they'd stayed together...as a couple...fallen in love...gotten married...had babies...love...had they been in love? Yea, well, sorta, kinda, first adult love...college...she'd stopped to offer assistance one day when his old car had broken down...given him a ride back to his place. They were both country kids but that's where the similarities ended. Different majors...she was going to get her Doctorate...he just wanted to get his MBA and go out and make money. At the time they didn't even like the same music but they clicked...she was easy to talk to...she was so beautiful...out of his league. Had they not met as they had he probably would never have had the nerve to ask her out. Unfettered by the stress and strain of dating and romance, they became friends. Falling into each others arms the first time had been so natural...easy...no stress...no angst. They had made love that first night...neither were terribly experienced...it hadn't mattered. Over the ensuing weeks and months they had done so at every possible opportunity. He graduated. He had things to do with his life....she did too. They'd stay in touch...be friends...maybe more....they were so young. It hadn't happened as they had planned. Life got in the way. Now, ten years later, here he was, rolling the $6 million, single pilot certified biz jet---his $6 million dollar biz jet, or at least his company's and he was 70% of the company----on final approach to Carlene's hideaway. Did he still mean anything to her? Would she be surprised or angry at his subterfuge? He hadn't been dishonest; he simply hadn't shared all of the details with her manager. As he turned the jet around and taxied back to the appointed tie down area, Phil knew in his heart that he would trade all of the success he had enjoyed to have held good Carlene in his arms every day of the last ten years. She had been his first real love; she had captured his heart. He had been a fool to ever let her slip away...maturity and experience had taught him that. His heart was hers to keep forever or hers to let go. He prayed for the former as he closed the hatch and walked toward the expansive farm house. And there she was. After the final concert of a grueling tour, Carlene had flown home to her farm, arriving early on Sunday morning. Her flight crew had dropped her off and departed; there was an ample guest house for their use and they would gladly have remained but she didn't plan to go anywhere for a while. Her mother, who lived half an hour away, stopped by Sunday afternoon; Carlene had slept almost until noon, totally exhausted from too many nights on the road. She dearly loved her mother and they were extremely close. She always felt wonderfully grounded when they were together. She missed her brother and sister, both off at college many miles away. She began rehearsing the songs she would record during the week; she loved them more with each pass. She had once hated country music, or so she thought. There had been a time when she rejected her rural roots and almost got caught up in the big city whirl of a fashion model. Phil had changed that, not the Phil who was coming to record with her but the other Phil...her first true love...the first man who had ever excited her...the man in whose arms she always felt special, safe...loved. Phil had embraced his country upbringing, even taking pride in being a red neck. He had introduced her to country radio, honky-tonks, slide guitars, banjos and fiddles. He had introduced her to the "good stuff", those classic country songs that drive right to the heart, tell a story and wrap the listener in the comfort of their expansive, warm musical arms. The Nashville establishment had not been crazy about her at first; even after recording a diamond album, albeit decidedly pop, she received no invitation to the Opry. Some claimed that her voice couldn't be real, that it was produced in the studio. Traditional country stations wouldn't play her music until their listeners demanded it over and over. She had resisted touring in the beginning; she wanted a body of work---her work—not covers before she went on tour. She had made a few friends in the business, winning them over because not unlike Carlene, those who were truly giants were at heart honest, ethical and genuine. Her first major live performance had been as essentially a minor opening act for a charity concert put together by George, Dolly, Brad, Vince, Reba and other straight shooters in the industry. Her set had been planned for twenty minutes. When she came on stage the applause was less than enthusiastic. Twenty minutes later, no one in the audience of close to a hundred thousand wanted her to leave. Brad invited her back to do a duet which he had not planned to perform; they later recorded it and she won her first Grammy. Virtually every headliner invited her back on stage to perform with them. She went back to the studio and cut her second album and while many of the bass lines and rhythm tracks were stronger than classic country generally dictates, it was unquestionably a country album. Even more important, she had written seven of the tracks exclusively on her own and the other five with collaboration---but they were all her songs and everyone knew it. I Love You, Good Carlene She went to Australia to tour and perfect her stage act. She became more popular outside of the US than she was inside. Returning to her own country she began assembling a concert package. If she sang pop she would have no problem finding a promoter; she was a pop star but not yet a country star. If she sang country, no one seemed interested. George had called and invited her to open for him; it would be a full one hour set. While no one really co-bills with King George, it was as close as anyone gets. "If George likes her, maybe she does have talent...but she couldn't really...she's too beautiful!" Country radio began to play her second album. CMT and GAC invited her on for interviews. She shot her first music videos. America quickly fell in love with good Carlene. She owed so much to George; her natural style of performing was not unlike his...stand up there and sing a great song and sell it from the heart. George played to massive audiences in selected cities. All of Music Row sat on the edge of their seats waiting---and hoping---for her to suck. She didn't; after twenty gigs on the road with George, promoters were calling daily. The most important thing she learned from George: "Do it your way. You have an amazing ability to pick and write great songs---I suck as a writer---I'm a little jealous! You have the voice of an angel. You connect with every single person in the audience...don't let anyone change you." It had taken some time to find the right promoter and concert producer, people who would trust her instincts and let her be good Carlene. It was unheard of for anyone as new as she was---and a female to boot---to headline her own tour. She initially had trouble booking appropriate opening acts. Her invitation to perform at the Opry finally came. Some advised her to shun them as they had shunned her. Instead she went with her gut and accepted graciously. By the time she arrived in Nashville, her second album, her country album, had gone platinum, yet it quickly became apparent that she had been booked to fill in time between two female icons and legends. As fortune would have it, she made her second and third real friends in the industry, two of the leading ladies of country music going back decades. The first one, a backwoods girl who had long since been inducted into the country Music Hall of Fame invited her to perform during her set and told the Opry audience that she was pretty sure Carlene would be every bit as big as she had become. She brought the auditorium to their feet during her set. She performed two songs with the other grand lady of country music. The three of them came back together for an impromptu encore which was shown on CMT as a special presentation. By the time the three of them came off stage everyone back stage wanted to shake her hand and congratulate her. Begrudgingly, Nashville was beginning to accept her. Country radio added five songs from her second album to their play lists. Record company presidents courted her and wanted to sign her to their labels. She put together the best concert musicians in the industry and found a promoter she could live with. When her tour dates were announced, they were sold out within the first few hours; in some cases second dates in the same city were added. Two of the most respected artists in country music agreed to do a full opening act for her; both could have headlined on their own but neither wanted the hassle of putting together their own tour package or enduring a full tour schedule. People loved her country music and they cried during her plaintive love songs; they also went nuts when she injected a couple of ass-kicking rock numbers that shook the house. They were in awe when she sang her encore virtually without accompaniment, for her voice truly was the voice of an angel. As they say, the rest is history and all of the doubters slinked back into their little holes. The country album won every award for Album of the Year. She won all of the "new artist" awards in her industry. She won three Grammy's. She was nominated for a dozen industry awards and won most of them. Two of her videos won top honors on both country networks. She did late night TV and morning shows. She was on Larry King and Sixty Minutes. Within a year, the doubters were back; she was a one trick pony. No one could follow up that level of quality in their next album. The first country album ultimately went double diamond. Carlene went back to the studio. When her recording contract ended she kicked off her own recording label. She solidified her inner circle. She produced her second country album herself. In spite of her success, the naysayers came back out of their holes. They were wrong again. In four short years she had become one of the top three or four stars in any music genre with huge cross over appeal and was universally respected and liked by those that mattered in the industry. And now, almost on the anniversary of her seventh year in the music industry and after putting the finishing touches on what would be her last album for at least two years she would drop out. There would be no interviews, no tours and probably very limited studio time---if at all. She had more money than she could ever spend. She had signed good artists to her new label. She had good people around her to keep the business on an even keel. What she did not have was a life; it was well past time to get one. She just wasn't exactly sure how to start. The answer would come from a completely unexpected source. She had heard the business jet make its downwind pass and the "in the blind" UNICOM call and sauntered out to greet the man who would be her next collaborator. In the distance she could see a man in pressed Wranglers tying down the sleek airplane. She was more than a little startled when he went back inside the cabin, exited carrying a guitar sans case and began walking toward her. Apparently he had flown in alone...owns the damn thing and flies it himself, alone? That's impressive. Nice walk..."good carriage" as daddy used to say...strong shoulders...blond...oh my God...no...it couldn't possibly be...he hasn't changed a lick...she was expecting a song writer named Phil...she knew this man...his name was also Phil. He was the last man in the world she expected to see this morning---or ever again---but she knew in her heart that he was the only man in the world she wanted to see. He had something that belonged to her...he had a big piece of her heart...if not all of it. She prayed silently that he had come back not to return that sizable chunk of her heart but to let her know...tell her...that it had been more than a college romance...that she mattered...that he loved her...oh, baby, don't say anything other than those three words...that's all I need to hear. Phil stopped ten feet in front of Carlene, smiled and stared at her wordlessly. God she was so beautiful...that nothing to hide sun dress...no makeup...obviously shocked to see him standing in front of her. Well, here goes, he thought to himself, as he slipped the guitar strap over his head and began to sing a song that he had written for Carlene...not for her to sing...to sing to her...a song that only he should sing to her. After a few seconds of intro he quickly got down to the meat of the song...simple words really..."I love you good Carlene". Tears were streaming down Carlene's face long before he finished his musical ode to her...she was laughing and crying at the same time. He put the guitar down on the ground, all five thousands dollars worth of it. He spoke. "Think it'll sell?" "I'd sure as hell buy it." "Did you like the hook?" "Oh yea...loved it." "Am I too late?" "No, I think you're right on time...perfect timing, I'd say." "What do we do now?" "You need to kiss me, hug me and tell me again and again and again..." "That'll work." Phil said, doing exactly as she had indicated. In the magic first moments as the two former lovers embraced and their lips met the future became crystal clear for both of them. It was right; it was as it should be. They walked back to the house hand in hand. "I always figured you'd moved on with your life...married someone...that I was just...you never called..." "It's not easy getting through on the phone to a superstar. Plus, not unlike you I haven't made much time in the last decade for personal life issues...affairs of the heart." "How did you get the CD to me? Simon has no recollection of putting it in the stack...it just appeared." "Your new publicist, Marie, is not only an unrepentant and incorrigible romantic but a very dear friend who once worked for me. She slipped it into the stack; don't be too angry with her." "Not much chance of that." "Carlene, I just have a few things to say about young fools who are too dense to recognize the real deal when they see it. Look, I know we were too young...we both had plans...lives to get on with. You need to know that a day hasn't gone by in the past ten years when I didn't think about you. First true love...first adult love...too good to be true...but it was true, wasn't it? We were in love and I've been in love with you all these years. I had no idea how you would react..." "Hush, baby, hush. No apologies needed. We parted as friends...it was a mutual thing...there were never any bad times. We just had things to do, places to go, people to see. You are the only man who ever, ever, ever slipped inside my heart and took a major piece with him! I never dreamed you'd come back to me but right this minute I'm the happiest little girl in the world that you did! Look, this is going to be my last album for a while...I'm going to take some serious time off and..." "Same here." "What do you do, actually?" "It's called arbitrage. I basically buy and sell currency on the world markets and hopefully sell it for more than I paid for it. I also buy and sell other assets, even businesses. I've had a very good run; I've stayed on top longer, by far, than anyone could have expected. I have a few more weeks of jet setting and then I'm cashing out or at least letting go of the day to day stuff. There are some people that desperately want me to head up a major international charitable operation and I'm considering it." "Are you telling me that 'Mr. Businessman' sees value in the not-for-profit sector?" "Oh, please! We can compare tax returns and I'm pretty sure I give away more than you do---and not just for the write off. I just like to have control of it so that I'm damn sure it gets to the people that need it as opposed to being skimmed off by bureaucrats." "So exactly how successful are you? My daddy wouldn't want me getting serious about a lazy guy without a job or a future. Or are you one of those guys that thinks his woman should leave the house and bring back a pay check?" "I'm sort of one of those traditional, 'barefoot and pregnant' kind of guys." "Don't be talking to me about no pregnancy unless you've got plans to make me an honest woman." "Well, I need to ask your daddy...and then we need to pick out rings...but yea, if you'll have me, good Carlene, I was sort of hoping we might get hitched. And in answer to your question, I'm pretty sure I can bring home enough so that you don't have to work---unless you want to, of course. Oh, hell Carlene, I didn't write those songs or show up here today with anything other than honorable intentions....tell you I love you and no other woman...ask you to marry me..." "Hold on cowboy! I'm not playing hard to get but I've developed a cautious streak in this damn business. At this very second I love the sound of the woo you're pitching. It's been ten years...we've got a lot of getting reacquainted to do. I intend to marry one man, only one. It would be kind of special if that one man was the first man who ever took my heart...ever made love to me...you. I want to scream, 'yes, yes, yes' at the top of my lungs. Work with me here; you're in love with a vision...eighteen year old Carlene...I'm not that little girl anymore. I fell in love with that irreverent red neck---and you're obviously not that boy anymore. Plus, we've got work to do. I'd like us to spend as much time together as is humanly possible. I've got one more major concert performance---a charity thing---an album to get out and then, hopefully by the end of the month, I'll be ready to kick back. How about you?" "I'll have my business affairs wrapped up by then...and then I'm yours, if you'll have me." "Well with the entrance you just made and the big piece of my heart you stole back in college, your chances are easily better than fifty-fifty. Phil, you were always the most honest straight shooter I've ever known...if I'm not who you remember...who you want me to be...need me to be...the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with...I have to know...this is who I am now...so..." "That'll work hon. I'm not planning on marrying more than one girl in my life and when I hear you sing on the radio I'm pretty damn sure you're the little girl I fell in love with way back when...but you could have become an evil witch, I suppose...let fame go to your head." "I'm still good Carlene, Phil; a little older and wiser and certainly tougher. This business builds thick skins. I cried a lot when the establishment refused to accept me...I hated reading stupid reviews in Rolling Stone...they depressed me. But I had my family and good people around me. I am still that good hearted, kind soul you fell in love with but I'm a lot more guarded and protective...and I'm a pretty sharp business person in my own right." "Let me say without hesitation that you've surpassed everyone's expectations. And while you were always the most beautiful girl I'd ever known, time has been very good to you." "Ooh, la, la, what a silver tongued devil you've become! Oh, Phil I was so sure you didn't remember me...think about me..." "We've both come a long way since college, Carlene. I thought about you often...more so every day." "Well, I see that my sound guy has arrived." Carlene said noting the pick up truck pulling up to the barn next to the main house. "Do you want to freshen up?" "Let's get to work!" "Where exactly do you live, anyway?" "I own a farm, not unlike this one, one state up about three hundred miles from here." "Isn't that near where you grew up?" "Within thirty miles; my folks still live up there, also on a farm but I convinced dad to retire a few years back---I had to buy his farm to get him to quit! He drove a pretty hard bargain." "Well, welcome to Carlene's very private studio. After listening to the demos a number of times I noted that you used a real piano, a grand if I'm not mistaken, so I procured one for our session together." "Who all is going to be here?" "You, me and Ralph, my sound guy who is semi-retired but he has helped me produce every album. He has his own mantle full of awards. I'd like to tape this straight with no dubbing. I do know how to play the guitar and I've rehearsed the music you sent on the CD and I think I can do it justice. You, me, Ralph, a six string, a grand piano and your amazingly beautiful words and music." "Don't forget...the voice of an angel." Phil said softly. "Your angel, I hope." "You've got that right." Phil and Ralph introduced each other; Ralph could not miss the chemistry between the two of them. He was as protective as if Carlene had been his own daughter. Carlene noticed it immediately. "Ralph, Phil is a very old and dear friend...not unlike you except that, well, we were once very much in love, think we might still be, and after we get done with this album, we're going to spend some time together and figure out if we should spend the rest of our lives together." The edge was off; Ralph sat down to listen through the three demos while Carlene and Phil caught up on the past ten years. By the time he got through the third song, his eyes were decidedly moist. "Good stuff, kid...Jesus! Damned good stuff! It was made for you to sing, hon...written for you. Let's run through the first number, set some levels and run some tape." The sound level run through of the first song would have been good enough to keep. It was as if Phil had studied every nuance of Carlene's voice and written a song which perfectly showcased her amazing talent. In fact he had. Ralph hit the record button; the second take was perfect. They did one more just in case and as perfect as the first one had been, the final one was beyond belief. There was a good reason. It happened between the first and second take after the sound check. Carlene sat a few feet away from Phil who was at the piano hanging on her every note and she knew. She was singing a tender, plaintive love song...her forte...her signature piece of music. As she gazed into his deep blue eyes, she knew she had just done something she had never done before. She had just sung a beautiful love song to the man who would hold her in his arms until her dying day...she was sure of it. She had thought of him when singing similar songs but this was different...more personal...more authentic. She didn't have to try to sell it; it was what every legendary country song from Hank and Patsy to George and Tammy had to be...completely real and believable. He had written it just for her and she had just sung it for him and only him. She was in his arms. Ralph was hooting ecstatically. They had just made music and personal history. The second song was more up-tempo, playful, even sexy in spite of the sparse accompaniment but it was still unmistakably her kind of song, more a jazzy torch song. It was far more a teasing, "I'm going to take you home tonight and fuck your brains out" kind of song than the first tender love song. It took them a few aborted attempts to get in the right mood. They decided to can the six-string and try it with just the piano. Carlene jammed her cute little butt tightly against Phil and put her hand on his thigh. "How did you come up with this song? I love it! It's steamy, sultry...teasing...but everyone knows what she's got in mind." "I thought about the first time you and I...you made the first move, if you remember. I was petrified that I'd do something stupid and chase you off...we were giggling...playful...you were playing peek-a-boo...teasing and tantalizing me in those outrageous harem pants you had bought just for the occasion." "I still have them...but you're the only man who has ever seen them." "Ooo, la, la!" And with the vision of Phil's strong hand finding every special place on her body that first time so many year earlier, Carlene made an easy decision. You ain't staying at a B&B tonight, cowboy, your boots are going under my bed. By the second take, all three knew they had another winner. Carlene felt the moistness between her legs; the song had turned her on...she loved singing it...couldn't wait to do it on stage...knew what she would be doing with Phil a few hours later. After listening to the playbacks, they took a short break before going to the next number. Ralph laughed that he might just get out on the lake and do some fishing by early afternoon if things continued at the pace they were on. As they set up for the third and final song, the duet, they decided that Carlene would play the six-string to accompany his vocals and he would play the piano when she sang. This song was a little more complicated as they worked to bring the transitions together. They experimented with singing backup for each other, depending on Ralph to get the levels right. This would be a very different effort for Carlene; Phil's voice would be heard first even though she was the mega star. For the final verse they would sing a pure duet...to each other, for this was the ultimate love duet, reminiscent of the great ones that legends like Conway and Loretta, Garth and Trisha or George and Tammy had done. I Love You, Good Carlene "Hon, I know you're the producer here, but when you come in the first time, I want the audience to gasp at the pure beauty of your voice...I really believe it needs to be a more assertive entrance. I want people to listen and go, 'oh, my God, it's Carlene!' Take possession of the song; I'll just shut up and play. It's got to be like, 'gee, there's some girl singing back up with that guy who I never heard of...can't quite place who it is—oh my, God, it's Carlene!" It worked better than any could have anticipated. "You really have a gift for this stuff, Phil." Carlene said softly. "It's pretty easy when you're the one singing the words. Let's try to nail down the final section, the real duet. Remember George and Tammy in, 'We're Going to Hold On' or Conway and Loretta in 'Louisiana Woman Mississippi Man'. They were able to sing inches away from each other, powerful singers but in perfect balance, neither voice dominating the other...equals in the moment...as all true lovers must always be." "Okay, don't record this, Ralph. Let's do one of those songs...the Tammy and George number. I've always wanted to do that song with someone special. It's always been one of my favorites and I know it by heart." "Same here." Phil replied, rolling into the piano intro. Ralph ignored Carlene and rolled the tape anyway. A few minutes later he was hooting and hollering again. "Mother of God! Wow! Carlene, I ran the tape...I'm going to play it back...listen...it's really solid!" "Well, it needs a fiddle." Phil commented. "That we can dub!" Ralph exclaimed. "Are you serious, Ralph?" "Put it on the album, baby girl. Make it the lucky thirteenth hidden track. It is that good." They put all of the pieces of the final song in place and went for a take, ultimately deciding to sing the final verse a cappella. They did three takes. By the end of the third take Phil and Carlene were back in each others arms. No one who would ever hear the recording would have the slightest doubt that the two people singing together were hopelessly in love with each other. They broke for an early lunch which Carlene, the mega star had prepared in advance. She was a damned fine cook. "Pretty as a picture, the voice of an angel and she can cook! What more could you ask for, Phil?" Ralph quipped. "You don't have to sell me Ralph, I've been smitten by this woman for a very long time." Carlene got serious. "Guys, we've got the other songs done for this album, I brought the masters back with me. The artwork's done, we need to update the liner notes and figure out which songs go where. Ralph, do you mind postponing that fishing trip for a few hours? Let's do this thing and get it back to town. I need to be done with it." "Hell babe, I thought it was going to take three days...we're well ahead of my fishing schedule. Let's do it!" Carlene and Phil fiddled with the liner notes while Ralph listened through the entire collection and made notes as to the order of the play list. A couple of hours later, Carlene had emailed the liner note changes back to Simon and the three of them sat down to peruse Ralph's recommendations. "First, I think you should just dump several of these songs---not that they're bad, they're not, they just don't fit the theme I'm seeing and there isn't room for all of them anyway. Other than the hidden track, the duet has to be the last song---it ties everything together. Look, I put this together differently than I normally would. This album is a story...each song is a chapter. It's your story, Carlene...your's and Phil's. We start with the broken heart, the missed love, the lost love, the new, or rediscovered love, the exploration, the 'I'm going to bed you down' number, then the solo love song and finally the duet. What do you think?" "I think you're a frigging genius Ralph!" "I'll second that." Phil chimed in. "Okay, let's email 'em the play order and then...it's later than I thought." "We can fly it back to the city first thing in the morning, Carlene. I did bring my ride." "You don't mind?" "Oh hell, girl, you don't think I'm going to let you get very far away from me, do you? It's only a couple of hours; we can be back here before dark if you like." After Ralph left and as evening approached, Carlene and Phil sat together in the swing on her front porch and got caught up on the previous decade. Their easy patter was very reminiscent of their conversations so many years before. It was so very comfortable and relaxed for both of them...as if it had been yesterday. They cooked dinner together in Carlene's well appointed kitchen, much as they had done back in college in the small apartment which they had shared. Any doubts that either had that they belonged together faded quickly. Soon it was time for bed. It was in that first night together in over ten years that the deal was sealed. Carlene had enjoyed few relationships during that interval. Not only was she extremely discreet but she simply was not a girl who found comfort in casual romantic trysts. As Shania had sung, "If you're not in it for love, I'm outa' here". As the two lovers enjoyed their morning coffee out on the porch, Carlene chuckled to herself as another Shania lyric came to mind..."You've got the moves, but have you got the touch?" There was no question...Phil still had the touch...at least as far as her body was concerned. "What time do you want to hit the road, babe, not than I'm rushing you." Carlene's business side kicked in. "Damn, Phil, flying back to the city is the last thing I want to do right this minute but the sooner we do the sooner we get home. Thank you..." "Pardon me?" "Thank you for making me feel like that special little girl you met back when we were both so damn young...I haven't felt that way in too long..." "I love you." "Yea, I'm pretty damn sure you do, cowboy, I'm pretty sure you do. I'm different back in the city...different because I have to be...but I don't want to be different for you...I love you so much...God don't let me screw this up!" "Shower time?" "It's a very big shower...I often wash the pups in it but I certainly wouldn't mind sharing it with you this morning." Carlene said with a devilish grin. They made love under the warm stream in Carlene's massive shower until the hot water ran out. It was playful, urgent and delightfully nasty. "So how'd you happen to learn to fly this beast?" Carlene inquired as they turned on the end of her air strip and prepared for take-off. Phil paused in his pre-takeoff check to respond. "Not unlike you I also took ROTC...I had a full scholarship from the Air Force. Fortunately we were between wars when I graduated and they really didn't want me on active duty unless I'd agree to eight years and to accept pilot training. They did pique my interest with a summer flight program---I got my private license. I joined a flying club. I bought my first plane, a single engine prop job...my first Cessna...when I was just getting started in business and was not remotely international. I started out essentially in the energy industry and spent a lot of time visiting remote oil, gas and coal exploration sites, most of which were miles from a commercial airport. I lost the engine one night in the hills of West Virginia coming back from a coal mine and had to land in a WalMart parking lot. I quickly traded up to a twin engine model, then a turbo prop and finally a turbofan...another Cessna. I normally have a flight crew so that I can work, or in this particular aircraft a paid pilot. I guess I've put over 5,000 hours into my log book over the last ten years." "So I'm in good hands this morning? I'm not sure my insurance carrier would be excited about me flying without a Commercial, Airline Transport rated crew." Carlene quipped. "By the way, mine's bigger than yours....I have a G150." "Who says I only have one?" Phil shot back. Pardon me?" "I fly international a lot in my business. My G550 is the longest range biz jet in the industry---almost 7,000 miles---but it's not certified for single pilot operations and it would be a tight fit on your runway. It makes a great flying office, and can accommodate a bunch of friends but it's a big bastard. It's also a bit faster than this Cessna, but this particular Cessna---the CJ3---while only having a range of less than 2,000 miles---is single pilot certified and very easy to fly alone. It's also under six million as opposed to...what, damned near fifty million? And, just for the record, I am Airline Transport Rated. Let's do it." Less than an hour later, the sleek jet and its special passengers touched down at a private air park less than a mile from Carlene's headquarters in the city. Simon and Marie walked over to greet them. Marie was beaming; she knew. Simon was slightly confused. Carlene gave Marie a huge hug that said not only that all was forgiven but, "thank you". Simon became even more confused. As Simon settled behind the wheel of the modest passenger van, Carlene brought him up to speed. From then on all Simon could do was grin. His "little girl's" personal life was taking a decidedly wonderful turn. By early afternoon the work was done. All involved agreed that the album was ready to go and that Ralph's play order was sheer genius. A couple of selected cuts would be put on line and transmitted to radio station managers within seventy-two hours. The three new songs, the ones Phil had written, would be held back. They would be introduced at the final concert in a little over two weeks. The CD would be on the record shelves and iTunes the day following the charity concert for an audience of over 100,000. Carlene and Phil flew back to her farm later in the afternoon. They had three days together; then Phil would be gone for most of the remaining two weeks prior to the concert. Carlene would be equally busy promoting the concert and the upcoming album. They would reconnect two days before the concert. "You are going to sing the duet with me." "Carlene, I'm not really a stage performer..." "I'm not singing that duet with anyone else. Nor am I going to sing the other two---the first time in public---without you to sing them to. Are you worried about stage fright?" "A little." "You have stockholders, don't you?" "Some very annoying ones." "Well, think of it as a really big stockholders meeting with stockholders who paid money to come to the meeting, are there to have a good time and are disposed to like what we do on stage. I'll have a grand piano for you. We do it just like we recorded it...very simple staging. The final verse a capella...just you and me up there...and then you kiss me, we thank them and say good night." "And how are you going to introduce me?" "I'm working on that." The weekend was far too short. On Friday evening they joined Carlene's parents for dinner. As Carlene and her mother chatted in the kitchen, Phil and Carlene's dad moved out to the front porch. Phil and Carlene's parents had met a few times many years earlier. Both parents were surprised but very pleased that Phil and Carlene had found each other again. "She's always glittered like Hollywood, Phil, but when she looks at you she lights up like a Christmas tree....and vice versa..." "I want to ask her to marry me, sir...formally...if you have no objections." "You make her smile...you always did...I've never seen her happier." "We're going to be apart for the next two weeks; I plan to give her a ring as soon as I get back...before the concert." "That'll work." Saturday they flew up to Phil's farm and spent the evening with his parents at their farm. They had met Carlene many years before and had fallen in love with her. They were ecstatic and surprised that the couple had reunited. Phil's mom quickly got past being star struck as the two women became fast friends. "She always was the one, wasn't she son?" Phil's dad intoned. "No other woman ever came close, dad. I plan to spend the rest of my life with her." And while they spent every spare moment during the painfully short weekend in each others arms making love they spent a lot of time just grinning and gazing into each others eyes. "It's real, isn't it baby...you're stuck with me?" Carlene whispered late Sunday evening. "Which makes me the luckiest man on earth. I love you good Carlene..." Monday morning was painful for both of them. Phil flew Carlene back to the city to Simon's waiting arms and departed to tie up the final loose ends of his global interests. Carlene moved into full work mode preparing the world for her final concert and album. They spoke often on the phone; the busy schedule both had made the time pass very quickly. The buzz surrounding a new album from a major star was sweeping the industry. Add to that the fact that this was to be Carlene's last album for an unknown period of time and the excitement was almost over the top. The songs released to the online downloading sites set records for most downloads in the first twenty four hours. The radio station managers did their jobs and the first two songs on the yet-to-be released album debuted at the top of the Billboard country chart. They shot a quicky video for CMT and GAC and both networks had it at number one by the end of the second week just days before the concert. The concert would be one of the biggest events since Garth played Central Park. The top artists in the industry would be there but everyone knew that it was essentially Carlene's show and no one objected. Phil flew in late Friday to reunite with the special girl who now owned every corner of his heart. "Did you get everything taken care of, cowboy?" Carlene said, as she rested her head on Phil's shoulder during the drive from the airport back to her hotel. "I'm done; all the loose ends are tied off...you?" "Well, almost. In between rehearsals we're going to try to shoot another video, Sunday night is the concert...and then...we both get to get a life...you and me...together. That's pretty damn exciting." Carlene paused. "Are you sure you're okay with the grown up Carlene?" "Baby, I love the Carlene that's sitting next to me just fine...how about you?" "I think you'll do, cowboy, I think you'll do." It was a hectic couple of days but it all came together before Sunday evening. With less than an hour to go before going on stage, Carlene sat in her dressing room alone as she always did, "getting her game face on". There was a knock at the door and Phil was there. He took her in his arms and they stood silently holding on to each other for dear life. "One more essential piece of business, hon, before you go out there." Down on one knee with the biggest diamond Carlene had ever seen, Phil asked her to be his wife. And of course she said yes. Music fans always want to hear the hits, the previously recorded songs but any concert event is also very much about promoting the new album. Carlene planned to do twenty songs without intermission, mixing the established hits with the new material and then come back for the three song encore...spotlighted with Phil and the grand piano. The response of the crowd to the new material exceeded everyone's expectations. The following day, even the Rolling Stone critic would be gracious and admit that once again, Carlene had surpassed everybody's expectations and quite possibly delivered an album that would not only outsell her others but become a landmark in country music. Not a single reviewer or fan had missed the glimmer on the third finger of her left hand and whispers abounded between songs. She finished the twentieth song and left the stage. Phil's arms were there to hold her. "Are you ready for this, cowboy?" "As ready as I'll ever be." Carlene returned to the stage to the thunderous applause of over 100,000 fans. A scrim had been dropped so all that was visible was Carlene and a grand piano with her favorite six string sitting on top of it. "Folks, thanks for coming out tonight! It means a lot to me and even more to the people who so desperately need our help. I want to introduce you to a very special friend of mine...he wrote the three songs we're going to end with...and he's agreed to help me out with them. Ladies and gentlemen, I listen to a lot of songs...songs I've written...songs others have written for me...but these three songs are without question the best I've ever had the privilege of singing for you." And with that, Carlene invited Phil on stage and introduced him. He took his place at the piano and she assumed control of her guitar and took her place a few feet away from the piano. In the clear, pure, perfect voice that had made her a superstar, the angel sang that special love song to the only person in the world that mattered at that moment...the man who had written it just for her...the man who loved her...had always loved her...the man she would love forever. No one who heard or saw the incredible performance had any doubt who she was singing it to....her man. Tender, gut wrenching, sweet and authentic, the performance brought the house down and no one was prouder than the man sitting at the piano. In the same pure voice, she delivered the tease song sitting as close to Phil on the piano as was humanly possible. There wasn't a guy in the place that didn't know that Phil, whoever the heck he was, was one damn lucky cowboy. Again, the audience went nuts. Then came the final duet and there wasn't a dry eye---male or female---in sight. As the final verse started and the two special lovers stood close, singing only a few inches away from each other with no accompaniment, Phil and Carlene set a new and lofty standard for musicians who would follow. Even the best artist just can't fake that kind of song; if it's not real it doesn't work. This was real...real love...love you could wrap your arms around. Her ardent fans would miss her but they also loved her and cared for her. She had brought them all so much joy, happiness and love...and now she had found the happiness, joy and love that she so desperately needed and so richly deserved. They cried not because they would miss her but because they were happy for her. Each in his or her own way prayed for the couple's happiness...prayed that it would endure...that it would be a love without end. And it was.