She sighed heavily. “You’re a smart guy, Max, but sometimes you’re as aggravating as a rock.”
“And I appreciate you, darlin’, but you are gettin’ on my last nerve.”
“Nothing happenedwith Sadie and Cruz, which I am sure you know deep down. So I don’t get why you’re choosing to be ugly about it. I mean, you of all people should know precisely who Cruz McNeil is... with your dad and everything.”
His anger rose again as he thought about Sadie kissing Cruz in the studio.Ugh.He hated feeling this way.
“Sadie told me what happened at Stagecoach. Cruz was drunk, or high, who knows these days. She’d had a few drinks and started thinking about her gran. Tours are hard and take every last ounce of emotional energy you’ve got. She had a weak moment, and Cruz capitalized on that. He must have been keeping his eye on her,the creep—and followed her. He was not invited, I’ll tell you that much,” Tasha said.
“Wait, what?” Did Sadie want to be with Cruz... or not? He surely hadn’t misinterpreted what had happened in the recording studio this afternoon, regardless of Stagecoach.
“She was trying to keep things friendly with Cruz, which we both know is an important business move, so she put up with him. She shared with him why she was upset, and about her gran, and he took advantage of that. She did nothing wrong, Max.”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” Max said, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. All of a sudden, he knew the truth—which had been right in front of him all along, but he’d been too stubborn and self-absorbed to see it. Sadie wasn’t kissing Cruz back... he had trapped her. She didn’t have feelings for Cruz. Sadie had been treading water so as not to disrupt the ever-important relationship she—they—needed to have with Cruz.
Tasha paused. “Do you get it now, Max?”
“Yes,” Max said, remorse heavy in his voice. “And as we both know, I’m a colossal jerk.”
“As your lifelong friend, who knows you’re notthisguy—the one who flies off the handle about a stupid photo, accusingpeople of things youknowcan’t be true, and then gets plastered to numb it all—let me give you a piece of advice: you need to get your head screwed on right. Or you’re going to ruin both your careers. And even worse, you could lose her forever.”
—
Max tried calling Sadie the second he’d hung up with Tasha, but it went straight to voicemail. He felt sick about what had happened in the recording studio, and hoped she was okay. But he had also just arrived at the Brody estate, and was panic-stricken about whatever emergency was going on there. Max grabbed Patsy and sprinted up the front steps, two at a time. He pushed open the door, afraid of what he was going to find. The memory of seeing his mom in the hospital, frail under the harsh ER lights, ran through his mind. His throat closed and he struggled to get enough air in.
“Becca! Dad! Martha! Where are you?” The house was quiet—too quiet. He ran into the great room, where the Christmas tree stood decorated, and found Holden on the couch, looking perfectly well. His dad had reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, a notebook on his lap. Holden looked over his glasses as Max burst into the room, surprise registering on his face.
“Maxy! What are you doing back here?”
“What’s going on?” Breathless, Max bent over to put hands on his knees after he let Patsy down. The dog trotted to the couch and pawed at Holden’s leg.
“Hey there, girl.” Holden reached down to pick her up.
“Where’s Becca? Her call cut out. Is it the baby?”
Holden set his 2B pencil into his notebook’s spine. “Last time I checked she was perfectly fine. Baby, too. But shouldn’t you be in the studio with Miss Sadie? Areyouokay?”
“Clearly not.” Max ran a hand through his hair. Waiting for his racing heart to slow.
Just then Becca came into the room. “Oh, hey, Max. Aren’t you supposed to be at the studio?”
Max let out a strangled groan. “Yes, Becca. Iamsupposed to be at the studio. But I am here. Trying to reverse my heart attack, because you told me to hurry home!”
Becca gave him a blank look and then slapped a hand to her forehead. “Oh! I was out for a walk and it was pretty windy and the call dropped. Sorry.”
“Becks, goddamn it! You told me tohurry home.”
Becca shrugged. “I guess with the whole wind thing you didn’t hear. Anyway, no, what I said was something like, ‘I don’t know if I can keep Dad from eating all the cinnamon buns, so you’d better hurry home after you finish up with Sadie.’ ”
She held up the plate in her hand. He stared at the gooey icing dripping down the side of the half-eaten pastry.
“You called me about cinnamon buns?”Max’s mouth was agape.
“I have to say, they are almost worth moving back home for.”
Max sat heavily in the chair closest to him, putting a hand to his chest. “Do you have any idea how much I have going on right now? Any idea how many times I almost crashed, trying to get home as fast as possible?”
“Again, sorry, little brother. Good news is there are still a few left,if you hurry.” She took a huge bite of the bun.
