Sadie squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, wishing she could transport herself somewhere else.
But it was no use. She opened her eyes, and she was still where she was—and Cruz McNeil was still standing in front of her, a proprietary look on his face. He often looked at her as if he owned her, which it sometimes felt like he did. And lately, it felt like he was everywhere, taking full advantage of the standing invitation and backstage access he had to every show in town, including this one.
Cruz whistled as he took in her outfit. “Hugo, can we have the room?”
“Cruz, we don’t have a ton of time here,” Sadie said. “Maybe after the show?”
Cruz kept his friendly smile plastered on. “Oh, it’ll just be a minute.”
“No worries,” Hugo said. “We’re done here anyway.” He patted her on the shoulder and paused in front of her, saying in a low voice, “I sewed a rose quartz crystal into the material just above your heart. Love you, babe. You’re a natural.”
“She is indeed,” Cruz said, his tone suggesting he had played some role in this. There had been a time all Sadie had wanted was for Cruz to take a special interest in her. Now she longed to go back to a time when she could have been more careful what she wished for.
When they were alone, she crossed the room to put some distance between them and stood in front of the lit mirror, where she pretended to adjust her mic wire. “What’s up, Cruz?”
“Just wondering if young Brody has gotten back to you yet. Didn’t think that was something that could be asked in front ofanyone else, considering you two are supposed to bemadly in love.” His voice became singsongy when he said that, and Sadie couldn’t help but wince.
“No, no word,” she said, hating the feeling she got when she talked about this with Cruz. She was hurt by Max’s ghosting of her—but they had had an agreement, and that was to tell no one they were only pretending to be a couple. Sadie was not the kind of person who went back on her word—even if it had turned out Max was.
She turned away from the mirror and looked at Cruz. It was time to be direct. Time to end all this. Surely, Cruz would be supportive. He didn’t seem to like Max very much anyway. “What are the chances I could just perform solo at theStarmakerholiday extravaganza? Max doesn’t seem to want to have anything to do with it anyway. I’m sure Amalia and Bobbi could come up with some palatable way to spin it.”
Cruz barked out a staccato, “Ha!” Then he stepped closer to her. “I know you two are faking, but no oneelseknows it. And there isa lotriding on the first public appearance of Saxie in an entire year being on that holiday special. A lot of advertising dollars riding on that, too.”
Sadie knew he was right—and also that, as a producer and an investor, Cruz had a personal interest tied up in theStarmakerspecial doing well. And word on the street was he needed the money, because one lawsuit against Cruz’s Catfish, his now-defunct chain of restaurants, had morphed into many. Apparently, the restaurant’s signature Catfish ’n’ Spaghetti dish had sickened multiple patrons.
“Max isn’t responding to me, Cruz. He doesn’t seem tocare. So if he’s just not coming, I think we need an alternate plan.”
“You’re right,” Cruz said thoughtfully. “We do need an alternate plan. And I think the alternate plan involves you flying out to that cabin of his and dragging that boy back here by the scruff of his neck. Do what you have to do. Bat those pretty baby blues of yours. Use your feminine wiles. If Max truly is Holden Brody’s son, he’ll follow you anywhere if you offer him a little honey.”
“Cruz.”
He held up his hands in supplication. “Sorry, sorry. You’re afakecouple, right, right.” He started to laugh, but stopped when he registered Sadie’s stricken expression. “Oh, princess. I hate to see you looking so down. I’m here for you, you know that, right? We still have all those incredible tracks you laid down earlier this year just waiting in my studio, for when you’re past all this kindergarten playtime stuff with Max and are ready to hang with the grown-ups. I promised you I would make you a star, and I’m going to. But first, you’ve gotta givemesome honey. Write a hit song, and perform that song at the Grand Ole Opry with Max Brody for the Holiday Extravaganza. Record said song at my studio beforehand, so we have it ready to stream the night the show airs. Most wannabe stars would jump at the chance to do any of that.”Wannabe star.She gritted her teeth as he put his finger on her chin and turned her face up toward his. She could smell onions on his breath and she had to force herself not to turn away in disgust. “Once you do this, you’ll be free. I can arrange for you to use my private jet to get to Max, if you’d like.”
“Cruz, I can’t just go and get him.”
Cruz stepped back. “Well, maybe I just can’t release your tracks to you until you do.”
“What?”
Cruz laughed again. “I was just funning with you, sweets. It was just a joke, don’t look so upset.”
Sadie stood still, staring at Cruz, trying to read his expression. He hadn’t been joking—and she knew it. The master tapes for the tracks she had worked so hard to record were in his hands. She couldn’t risk not doing what he was asking her to do.
“Okay, Cruz,” Sadie said. “I’m on it.”
“I know you are, doll. See you out there. Knock ’em dead tonight. Can’t wait for the after-party, should be a barn burner. And let me know if you need my jet.”
But Sadie knew she wasn’t going to the after-party. And there was no way she was going to use Cruz’s jet. When he was gone, she pulled out her cell phone and stared down at it for a moment, wishing Max would choose this moment to finally return her countless calls and texts. But her phone stayed silent, the screen as lonely and empty as her heart.
She texted Amalia.I need to get the address for Max’s cabin. I need to take matters into my own hands.
As she sent the text, there was a tap on her door and Tasha walked in, magnificent in a glittering sea-green mermaid gown and sky-high heels she somehow made walking in look effortless.
“Tasha. You look incredible,” she said.
“I could say the same for you.” Tasha came to stand beside her and they surveyed themselves in the mirror. “You ready todo this thing, Sadie?” Tasha came to Sadie’s dressing room every single night to ask her this question. It always made Sadie feel like she was Tasha’s equal, like they were a real team and she wasn’t just her opening act.
Now she wanted to tell Tasha everything—and ask her for help. But she couldn’t do that. She needed to handle this on her own. So instead, she repeated what she said to Tasha every night. “I was born ready.”
