Max was about to berate his sister again for scaring him half to death when he heard a voice in the hallway.
He twisted in his chair to see his manager walking into the great room, barefoot and with a large red purse over her shoulder.
“Bobbi, honey, you know you don’t have to take your shoes off in this house.” Holden gave her a kiss on the cheek. “But it’s nice to see you, darlin’.”
“You, too, Holden.” Bobbi smiled warmly at Max’s father. “And you know my father would have had my hide if I wore shoes in the house. Old habits.” She shrugged, then hugged Becca. But when she turned to Max she did not have the same warm expression for him. She looked like she had a burr in her saddle, as Holden would say.
“This sure as heck does not look like a recording studio, where you assured me you would be today.”
“Yeah, so about that...” Max stood, but Bobbi interrupted him.
“Look here, Max. I am busier than a moth in a mitten, so I don’t have time for your bullshit.” Bobbi pointed a finger at Max, and he looked to Becca and his dad, who both suddenly seemed occupied by other things.
“I have a meeting to get back to, so let me be clear. You signed a contract. And this is not only about you now, you hear me? I’ve known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper, and I know you are not the sort to walk away when the going gets real tough. That is not the Brody way.”
But wasn’t it precisely the Brody way? He had been walkingaway when the going got tough for the better part of the past twelve months. Max tried again to explain what had happened at the studio, but Bobbi was having none of it.
“I have two things to discuss with you, Max. One, take a minute and get yourself sorted before you come back to the studio—you can deal with the personal stuff later, but right now your focus needs to be on the work. Cruz is rumbling about Johnny King being ready to go if the two of you can’t figure this out.” Bobbi raised her eyebrows. “And none of us want to see Johnny King onstage at the Grand Ole Opry, do we?”
Max pressed his lips together, knowing what it would mean if that happened—that he had failed everyone. Along with everything else, he didn’t want to be responsible for voiding Sadie’s contract along with his own.
“Good. We’re on the same page, then,” Bobbie said. “After tomorrow night’s performance you are done withStarmakerand I promise you, we’ll figure out what’s next for Max Brody, alright? Secondly, Sadie fired Cruz. I just talked with Amalia.”
Max’s mouth fell open.
“Apparently Mr. McNeil felt he was entitled to more than a great song from Sadie, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Is she okay?” He started to pace, clenching and unclenching his fists. “That goddamn snake. If I ever see him again, I’m gonna knock out his teeth and then—”
“Max, take a breath,” Bobbi started, putting a hand on his arm. “There will be time to deal with all that later, but right now the only job you have—the only thing you have to do—is get that song finished with Sadie.”
Max took a deep breath in through his nose, remembering Landon’s advice. He then let it out slowly and nodded.
—
After Bobbi left, Max went back to pacing—trying to pull it together like he said he would, without much luck.
“Maxy, stop. I’m sure Sadie is fine—”
“I left her there, Becks. I left her. I thought she was kissing him back! I’m a damn, damn fool. I wouldn’t be surprised if she never speaks to me again.”
Becks let him pace a few moments longer before she asked, “How did it not occur to you that maybe Cruz was being predatory?”
“Did I mention I’m a damn fool?” Max sighed, hating himself. “I know his reputation, Becks, obviously. But with that photo, then seeing them like that, well, the pieces fit together.”
“Look, it’s not entirely your fault. There are some things you don’t know about Cruz, and I should have told you this years ago.” Becca held Max’s gaze. “Remember when Dad fired him, in the middle of his Whiskey and Pearls Tour?”
“Yeah.” Max glanced at Holden, who couldn’t look him in the eye.
“Do you knowwhyDad fired him?”
Max shrugged.
“He fired Cruz because he caught him feeding me shots and getting a little too close. I was sixteen. I thought I was so mature, and, I’ll admit it, I liked his attention. At first.” Becca gave a sad smile.
“But then Cruz tried to kiss me, and I didn’t know what to do. Dad walked in, and, well, let’s just say Cruz was lucky to get out of there in one piece.”
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing this?” Max’s hands curled into fists of rage.
