Page 58 of Pretend To Be Mine

I watched Adrian’s jaw tighten, saw his shoulders tense. He was trying to address everyone at once, but they kept interrupting each other, talking over him, pulling him in seventeen different directions.

He was about three seconds from losing it. I could see it in the way his fingers gripped his iPad, in the muscle twitching in his jaw. These people were all doing their jobs, all trying to make sure tomorrow went perfectly. But they were also overwhelming him, and nobody seemed to realize it.

Well. Nobody except me.

I knew he could handle the chaos. He’d been doing it all day, but I couldn’t just stand there and watch him be accosted. They were acting like he wasn’t a human being. It was rude. Thoughtless.

I stood back and waited, expecting him to whistle and scream.

But he didn’t. He stood there, doing his best to answer questions.

And getting more flustered by the second.

I had to do something. And I knew exactly what to do.

I was going to surprise him.

19

ADRIAN

The voices blurred together into an overwhelming cacophony of demands, each person talking over the others, all of them waiting for me to solve their problems. Problems I’d already addressed. Questions I’d already answered. Details I’d already approved.

They weren’t listening. They were just panicking and using me as their outlet.

I could feel my control slipping. The pressure was building behind my eyes. A stagehand appeared at my elbow, asking about decorative vases and where should they go, should there be more, should they be moved. I was approximately three seconds from telling him exactly where he could shove those vases. Hell, I would eagerly shove those vases up his ass myself.

Then Elizabeth’s hand closed around my arm.

“Adrian.” Her voice cut through the noise with surprising authority. “I need you. Emergency. Right now.”

I looked at her, trying to process the sudden shift. The last thing I needed was another fucking emergency. They were killing me. I was used to the general chaos before a show. It was just part of the process.

But fuck me. They were going to drive me batshit crazy.

“Elizabeth,” I said in a low growl. “I’m a little busy right now.”

“It can’t wait.” She tugged on my arm, already pulling me away from the crowd. “Please. It’s urgent.”

Part of me knew I should stay and address all the concerns. I wanted to be the leader everyone needed me to be. But a larger part of me recognized an escape route when it appeared, and Elizabeth was offering me exactly that.

“Everyone, hold your questions,” I said, already moving. “I’ll be back in ten minutes and we’ll address everything then. Make a list. My fiancée needs me.”

Protests started immediately, but Elizabeth was already navigating us through the backstage area with surprising determination for someone who was new to this world. She wove between racks of clothing, ducked under a scaffolding pole, and headed for a door marked roof access.

“Elizabeth, where are we⁠—”

“Trust me,” she said, pushing the door open.

We climbed the stairs. With every step, I felt some of the tension ease from my shoulders. The noise from below faded, replaced by the echo of our footsteps. By the time we emerged onto the roof, I could actually think clearly again.

The night air hit me immediately, cool and refreshing after the stuffy heat of the venue. The city spread out around us. Lights twinkled in every direction. I could hear the sounds of traffic creating white noise. Above us, stars struggled to compete with the light pollution, but a few determined ones shone through.

A breeze caught my hair, dried the sweat that had been gathering at my temples. I took a deep breath, then another.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked, turning to Elizabeth. “Are you okay?”

She was leaning against the roof’s edge barrier, a satisfied smile on her face. “The emergency was if you didn’t take a break, you were going to fire everyone and call the whole thing off. Or be hauled to jail for assault.”