Cruz gazed at her intensely for a moment, but then smiled. “Well, we can’t get any further on an empty stomach, now can we?” He lowered his arms and leaned in. “How about lunch? Sound good?” He hit the intercom button.
“Hey, doll, can you order some vittles for us?”
“Sure, boss, the usual?” Yasmin asked.
“Thanks, make it two, please. And add in a bottle of Sancerre.”
He turned off the intercom and hit play on the music Sadie had been listening to before. “Christmas Love Train” filled the room—and Sadie tried not to cringe.
Cruz seemed delighted with it, nodding his head along to the music. “A song like that gets me right into the Christmas spirit,” he said. “And a song like that is also the kind of song that allows a stellar voice like yours to shine.” He turned down the volume and stood to pace the room as he spoke. “I can make you a star. You know I can. It’s the whole reason I got involved withStarmaker: to find the next big thing. And the next big thing isyou, doll. Not Max Brody. Not even Johnny King. Sadie Hunter, all on her own. My next label headliner. Isn’t that what you want?”
Sadie tried to keep her voice casual and calm, even though the panicked sensations she’d been having were growing stronger by the minute. “To be the next big thing is what everyonein Nashville wants,” she said as noncommittally as possible.I’m just not sure you’re the right producer for my songs, and I have to get my tapes back.
There was a tap on the door. Lunch had arrived. Yasmin, still in her jaunty Santa hat, set it up on a small folding table and the room filled with the scent of fried food: battered catfish and French fries. “Come on, dig in, lady first,” Cruz said, dishing her up a big paper plate when she didn’t make a move toward the oily food, and pouring her a glass of wine, too. “It’s not as good as Cruz’s Catfish, which I very much hope will be up and running again soon, but it’s a close second.”
Sadie put the wineglass on the table and fished her water bottle out of her bag instead, as Cruz dug in to his heaping helping of fried catfish. Eventually, she put her nearly untouched plate down on the table and checked her phone, but there was still no response from Max.
Cruz refilled his wine and looked pointedly at her untouched cup. “You sure you don’t want any?”
She shook her head. “If I have wine now, I’ll need a nap soon enough.”
“Well,” Cruz said, taking a slug of wine. “This place isfullof couches. I might just snuggle up beside you.”
Sadie knew she could no longer ignore how uncomfortable Cruz was making her feel. But when she opened her mouth to say something to him the words dried up in her throat. What exactly was she going to call him on? He would say he had only been joking, and that she was being too sensitive.
“Anyway,” Sadie said. “We should get back to it.”
“Right. That’s my girl. You’re goddamn relentless.” Hetipped his glass toward her. “You’re the real deal, Sadie Hunter. Now, come here, sit close, I want to show you this new technique with the mic I think will give your voice more depth. Make it sound sorta like you just got out of bed, you know?”
Reluctantly, even though every technique Cruz suggested seemed to make her voice sound hollow, she pulled her chair over a few feet closer, but he grabbed the arm of it and pulled it right up against his. “Don’t be shy,” he said, and she smelled the wine he had been drinking on his breath. “A lot of people out there think we’re an item now, and you’re used to playing, aren’t you? It’s okay to sit close.” He winked and she looked away. But he grabbed her hand and put it on the mic. “Okay, so you hold the mic like this, and tilt your head like that”—he now had his hand on her jaw; his fingers felt greasy. “And then, I press this button like so, and you start singing.”
She sang a few bars of the Christmas train song, but the position of her head was too awkward. She had to stop eventually and rub at a crick in her neck. Cruz jumped up and stood behind her. “Here, let me take care of that for you,” he said, his hands on her shoulders.
She moved her chair forward, away from his touch, but Cruz followed with his hands. “Really, Cruz. I’m fine. I just don’t think that technique worked for me, that’s all.” She tried to pull away again, but his grip was firm.
“I’m just trying to find ways to get the most out of you. Wait, I have an idea.” He stopped rubbing her shoulders and came around in front of her. He leaned down, and the catfish and wine on his breath was almost too much to bear. How had she ever admired this man, thought he could ever be a part of her path to success? “What if we tried to channel some of thatsame passion you and Max have? Surely it isn’t just him. You can turn it on with anyone, can’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
The next thing she knew, Cruz’s fishy, oily lips were on hers. She struggled to move herself back, but he was a lot bigger than her, and he was holding her tight.
“Cruz!” Her voice was muffled because his lips were pressed so hard against hers.
He pulled away then, but only by millimeters, holding her to him with his other arm. “Come on,” he said. “You can’t deny we’ve been vibing all day. This is just a natural progression of our professional relationship and is going to bring out the best in your voice.”
“Get your hands off of me, Cruz!”Sadie pushed him away so hard he nearly fell over. As she did, she thought she saw movement out in the hallway, but no one entered the room.
“Hey!” he said, collecting himself. “What is your problem, doll? We’re making beautiful music. That is all we’re doing. This is just how it’s done. If you were anything other than an amateur, you’d know that.”
“No,” Sadie said, standing up. “I am not an amateur, I’m a professional. You are not. And we are not making beautiful music, by the way. We’re making lackluster music, andyouare making me uncomfortable. You’ve crossed a line, and I’m not going to take it anymore. I don’thaveto take it anymore. I have a contract to record a song with Max, forStarmaker, and that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t need you, Cruz.”
He laughed as if she’d just delivered a punch line to a hilarious joke. But then his expression morphed into an ugly sneer. “In this town,everyoneneeds me,” he said. “Andcongratulations, you’re finished. You’ve just made the second biggest mistake of your life—the first one was ever getting involved in a fake relationship with Max Brody in the first place.”
“Screw you, Cruz.”
“Screw you, Sadie Hunter. You and your master tapes, which belong to me.”
As she gathered her things and got the hell out of there, all she could think was that if this was what getting ahead in the music industry looked like, it was time to find a new dream.
