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“That means she’ll already be there,” Mia said at last, playing diplomat and not translating his exact words.
The last bit of Nate’s patience was draining away. “Don’t let her bully you.”
“But it’s Mia,” Ivy stated, as if that would convince Nate to change his mind.
He nodded.
Mia finally found her own voice. “I’d love to go.”
She spoke softly, but her eyes glowed. In moments like these she was more beautiful than her twin.
“But I need her backstage. I’m performing and presenting.”
“You’ll have Yvonne to help with your changes and makeup,” Mia said. Now that she’d accepted his invitation, she appeared unwilling to back down. It was a nice change from the way she normally catered to her sister’s every whim.
“She doesn’t own anything that she can wear to an award show,” Ivy said to Nate. Clearly, she wasn’t giving up.
As a featured artist, Ivy would have her choice of gowns sent over by designers eager for the publicity. Mia didn’t have that sort of celebrity and Nate doubted she had the pull to arrange her own red carpet gown.
“I have a stylist in LA who can hook you up,” Nate signed. “I’ll give her a call.” He sighed. “Send her a email.”
“That would be great,” Mia breathed, without bothering to translate.
Her reverent expression left Nate wondering how often anything good came her way. It spurred him to work even harder to make the entire event something Mia would want more of. She’d spent far too much time being invisible, not thinking she deserved her moment in the sun. Getting her used to being treated like a celebrity was a step forward in his plan to wrestle her away from her sister.
“I’ll make the arrangements. Don’t let her talk you out of going with me.”
“I won’t.” And then to Ivy she said, “We’d better head out if you want to make your massage appointment.” And as her sister stormed away down the hall, Mia gave Nate one last glance and signed, “Thank you.”
* * *
Mia carried the cup of Throat Coat tea into Ivy’s bedroom. Their father had rented a five-bedroom house with a pool in a gated community for the month Ivy would be recording at Ugly Trout. It had been a week since meeting with Nate at the studio and whatever progress her sister was making with Melody’s songs was negated by the fact that when Ivy wasn’t at the studio, she was either out shopping or partying with her friends Skylar and Riley, who’d shown up from LA.
The appearance of those two raised Mia’s concern. The party girls, whose only source of income was their sketchy modeling careers and fashion blog, weren’t good for Ivy, who was far too prone to be distracted from what she’d come to Las Vegas to do. Mia had convinced their father to chase them out of the house early that morning so Ivy could work on the songs Nate wanted her to record, but from the pile of high-end shopping bags on the floor at the foot of Ivy’s bed, he hadn’t persuaded them to leave town.
The fact that her sister wasn’t trying on her latest purchases or even admiring what she’d bought told Mia something was wrong. The curtains were drawn over the sliding glass door that led out to the pool. It took a second for Mia to spot her twin. Ivy had pressed herself into a corner of the room, her knees tucked against her chest like a small child trying to make herself invisible. Tears streamed down her face and Mia’s heart crashed to her toes.
“What’s the matter?” She set the teacup on the bureau and went to sit before her sister. “I brought you some tea. Why don’t you try to drink some.”
Ivy stared right through her. “I can’t do it. Nothing feels right. They’re all expecting me to do something amazing and none of it is me.” Ivy blinked and her eyes gained focus. She met Mia’s gaze. “When we were on tour, I heard the songs Melody was working on and they sounded so wonderful. I want wonderful, but it’s not happening.”
“That’s not true. I’ve been there, listening to you record. Everything you do is wonderful,” Mia assured her sister, speaking from the heart. So often lately when she complimented Ivy it was because her sister expected the praise. But when Ivy was like this, when her demons crowded in, it was easy for Mia to give her twin every bit of support she had in her.
“Dad’s expecting me to go platinum with this album, so it has to be perfect.”
Mia had always thought having their father manage Ivy’s career added extra pressure for her to succeed. In the same vein, if it hadn’t been Daddy calling the shots, Ivy’s image might be different. Mia was pretty sure her twin never would’ve had plastic surgery at seventeen and probably wouldn’t have become addicted to the painkillers that almost killed her.
“Don’t worry about Dad or Mom or what anyone else thinks.”
No matter how well Ivy did, she always wanted to do better. And when she wasn’t recognized, which was what had happened with this year’s American Music Award nominations, things went downhill fast.
Since mid-October, when the nominations were announced and Ivy’s name hadn’t appeared anywhere, Mia had been scrambling harder than ever to keep her sister happy. As ambitious as she was beautiful and talented, Ivy had grown positively obsessed with making her next album grittier, sexier, more over-the-top than anything she’d done so far.
Mia thought her sister was on the wrong track. It was why Ivy and Nate were butting heads. If Ivy wanted to be taken seriously as an artist, she needed to become more authentic rather than a caricature of the personality she’d become.
“Make music that’s in your heart,” Mia continued. “Let it speak to who you are.”
Ivy’s lips curved into a sad smile. “What if I don’t know who that is?”
