“What exactly are you talking about?” she said.
“We think Max needs to propose,” Bobbi answered.
“What?!” Max exploded.
For her part, Sadie was unable to utter a single word—or to quite catch her breath.
“Hear us out,” Amalia said. “And wipe those horrified expressions off your faces. You don’t have to actually get married!” She laughed so hard her eyes teared up. “But what we need is for the public tothinkyou’re getting married. We need them to get completely invested in your upcoming wedding. The dress! The venue! The wedding party! The rumored musical guests! You’ll be on the covers of all the tabs every damn week. Bobbi and I did some calculations, and if you win both ‘fan favorite’ segments of theStarmakercompetition, you win the whole damn thing. Guaranteed. And you’re a shoo-in for that.”
“But,” Bobbi said, her voice now dead serious. “Once the show ends, there will be nothing new for the news cycle. I mean, you’ll have a few weeks, maybe a month if you’re lucky, of people still being interested. Max, you always get press, but it’s not for the reasons you want. It’s never about your music, and if we can keep attention on you two, we can get your music more attention, too. But you have to give them something new to chew on. Get engaged.”
“But,” Max sputtered.
Bobbi talked over him. “The night you win the show, you cement your place in people’s hearts when Max, overcome by his emotions, drops down to one knee and asks for Sadie’s hand in front of an audience of millions. Then, following a one-year engagement, just after you return toStarmakerto sing your song on the holiday extravaganza, you’ll break up in dazzling, public fashion.”
“Absolutely not,” Max said.
Sadie was silent, though. She gazed down at the picnic table, where in the flickering lantern light she could see that someone had carved “Raf + Suze 4-ever and ever.” Who knew where these two people were now? Still together? Probably not. All it took was one look at what had happened with Sadie’s parents, or her grandparents, to understand that true love was just a fantasy.
Going all in on faking it, however, could potentially have its career benefits. Sadie turned to Max slowly.
“Why not? If we’re just pretending, what does it matter?”
“Are you serious, Sadie?” His expression was intense—maybe even scared. “You would actually want to pretend to be... engaged to be married?”
The way he said “engaged to be married” made it sound quite serious indeed. And, Sadie had to admit, it made her heart skip a beat and her body do something that could technically be referred to as a swooning, if anyone had noticed. But no one did. And that was the point. The chemistry between Sadie and Max had nothing to do with the real world. It only existed in the musical world—and this was a world in which Max and Sadie both wanted to make a lasting name for themselves.
“They’re right,” Sadie said, leveling her eyes at Max. “This is a sure shot at our mutual goals. It means all this”—she waved her hand, attempting to be as blasé about it as Amalia had been—“will be worth something. It won’t just be a one-and-done moment, forgotten about as soon as someone more interesting comes along.”
Max just stared at her, long and hard, as if seeing her for the first time—and not especially liking what he saw. She could seehim gritting his teeth, and there it was: that familiar way his jaw got very tense.
“Max, you understand fame,” Bobbi said, and Max began to look annoyed. Hedidunderstand. He wasfamous. He wanted more, though. Max wanted his own kind of notoriety—Sadie knew that by now. And he didn’t need her to get it. Not as much as she needed him.
Bobbi gave Max a pointed look before continuing. “There are flashes in the pan, and then there are those chosen ones who become beloved, outside of any advantages they might have. You will get where you want to be—but only if you do what we say. Trust me.”
Max did trust Bobbi, Sadie knew this. But he was still extremely skeptical. “Do we have to getengaged?” he said. “Can’t we just pretend to be together until that final performance next Christmas, and then break up? Won’t that be enough for everyone?”
“It won’t,” Amalia said. “People will get bored. But if there’s one thing people never get bored of, it’s a royal wedding. And, Max,youare Nashville royalty. And, Sadie, you are Cinderella—” Now it was Sadie’s turn to grit her teeth. “We just need to take you one step further.Thisis the step. The step that will help make all your dreams come true. And all you have to do...”
“Is propose,” Bobbi concluded, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Max sighed as if someone had suggested that all he had to do to achieve his goal was agree to pluck out every single hair on his head with tweezers. Sadie glowered at him, hating how hopeful she felt, how squarely her dreams rested in his hands.
“Fine,” he finally said.
Sadie swallowed her surprise. She echoed her own, “Fine,” then extended her hand so they could shake on it. She looked into his eyes as they continued to hold onto each other’s hands—and again she had that sensation of falling. It passed, though. This was a business agreement, nothing more. “We have a deal, then,” Sadie said, releasing his hand.
Amalia and Bobbi lifted their paper cups, full of champagne, and proposed a toast. But Max just shook his head. “I’m not a real champagne drinker. See you tomorrow, Sadie. Dinner is at seven, but Holden likes a long cocktail hour, so come early.”
He looked solemn when he said this, and despite her frustration with him, Sadie also felt a pang of something. He was clearly dreading dinner with his dad—when, meanwhile, Sadie would have given anything to be going home and having dinner with her gran and mom. They always ate early—turkeyandham, mashed potatoesandroasted—and went for a long walk to look at Christmas lights. Then a few friends and family members stopped by for an open house, which was never really planned but somehow always happened, and out came the cheese board and old-fashioneds. Elsie and Sadie would sit at the piano together, playing their favorite holiday songs. Sadie had the sense Max’s mom had given him the kind of safe harbor she felt she had when she went home. Now all he had was Holden.
As Sadie watched Max walk away she decided something. If she was going to be a part of his life for one full year, maybe she could at least find a way to help him not look so miserable all the time—because a man who was supposed to be crazy in love and engaged to be married was supposed to lookhappy.
Sadie had an idea. Finding the perfect Christmas gift. It would be a good test for pretending to be engaged to him. If she could nail the perfect gift for Max Brody, if she could actually make him smile, she knew she would also be able to make everyone in the world believe, for one full year, that she was madly in love with him. That she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life by his side.
“Amalia, could you please take me to Opry Mills?” It was a massive shopping center that would probably be a zoo on Christmas Eve—but Sadie knew what she had to do. “I need to find the perfect gift.”
9
