Page 134 of The Encore’s Crown

Her eyes drift toward Natalia again. She’s heading back to the couch alone now, and some of the tension in me eases. Maybe Julian found another target for the evening. Then I look back at Radhika. She’s studying my face with an uncomfortable amount of perception. I hate how much she can still see.

“I need the bathroom.”

I cross the ballroom, avoiding the couch entirely, and push into the men’s room. I head to the urinals. A man’s voice comes from inside the only occupied stall.

“No, I told you, I have someone on the hook.”

The voice is low, irritated, familiar enough to bother me without immediately placing it.

“I need the stuff now. Where are you?”

A second voice comes through the phone. I can’t make out most of it. The man laughs.

“You disappeared for twenty minutes.”

The voice answers.

“Oh, was it that fat talent scout?”

Another muffled response. The man scoffs.

“She's fucking fat. This is L.A. Anyone wearing a size eight is fat.”

My jaw tightens. He keeps talking.

“If she did the job, who cares, right? You don't have to be hot to suck dick. Did you get what I asked for or not?”

“Excellent. Meet me by the doors.”

The call ends. I stand there staring at the stall. The toilet flushes. I move to the sinks before the door opens, turn on the water, and begin washing my hands.

Julian Mercer steps out. I watch him through the mirror. He adjusts his jacket and checks his reflection, completely unaware of me. Or unconcerned.

At the label, he technically outranks half the people who manage us. He works directly with artists worth more money than some countries. He can bury a new act with one email and make sure a producer’s calls stop being returned. He looks like exactly what he is. Protected.

My eyes stay fixed on him in the mirror. He smooths his hair, washes his hands, then leaves without looking at me once. I follow. Julian crosses the ballroom toward the main doors. I hang back near one of the columns. A younger man in a burgundy jacket appears from the corridor. They exchange a few words. Their hands meet briefly. Something passes between them.

Then Julian turns toward the bar. My pulse begins pounding hard enough to blur the room at the edges. I could stop him now, but he’ll just ditch the shit, deny everything. Bury The Riven Altar in revenge for interrupting his night. If I’m right, I need to know where the drink is going.

I return to Radhika. She’s speaking with Ronan and one of the label’s international executives. I take my place beside her, but every nerve in me stays pointed toward Julian.

Radhika glances at me.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That expression on you has never meant nothing.”

She follows my line of sight. Julian stands at the bar while the bartender prepares two drinks. Radhika looks toward Natalia. Then back at me. Julian picks up both glasses. One is amber whiskey. The other is clear with ice and lime. He starts toward the couch and my body goes cold.

Radhika's still demanding to know what's happening when I set down my glass.

“I’ll be right back.”

I cross the room fast enough that people move without understanding why. Natalia is sitting where I last saw her, checking something on her phone. Julian reaches her first and offers the clear drink.

“Thought you’d abandoned me,” she says.