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Six-thirty. Ariella was set to go on stage at six-forty-five. She’d do a fifteen-minute set, then hightail her ass home and be ready to leave with Bastian at seven-thirty. Seven-forty-five at the latest.
She could do it. She had everything handled.
You’re not gonna make it back in time.
Finn’s text message made her roll her eyes. He underestimated her abilities. It was only a ten-minute cab ride home. She’d already sacrificed a great stage time at eight-thirty to make tonight happen, she wasn’t about to bail. By the time the night ended, she’d probably find herself shackled to Chad. She deserved a few minutes of joy before being sacrificed to the lion.
Don’t worry. I’ll be there. Just keep my dad busy until I do.
Finn was the only one of her father’s men she considered a friend. She could count on him to keep her father from sending out a search party if she was a few minutes late.
“Ariella, right?” Stanley, the stage manager for the night, popped up from behind one of the backstage curtains.
“Yep, that’s me.” She shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’m next, right?”
He looked down at his clipboard. “We had to make a change. You’re going on at seven-thirty.”
“Seven-thirty?” Panic gripped her. “No, I switched times with the Grey Pearls.” She pointed at his clipboard. The duo had been more than happy to grab a better stage time when she’d gone to them with the suggestion.
Stanley clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Yeah, I see that, but we had to move some stuff. Either you have seven thirty or no time tonight.” He brought his firm-set eyes up to hers.
She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. A seven-thirty set meant she was getting a full half hour. Quickly she did the math in her head. Done by eight, grab a cab, rush home - after paying the driver to ignore traffic laws- sneak into the house and up to her room to change out of her jeans and tank top and into the dress she had laid out on her bed, ignore Bastian’s lecture about timing, and arrive at the Faulkins’ house by nine, maybe nine-thirty the latest.
“What’s the verdict?” Stanley asked, impatience underlining the question.
“Fine. Yeah, that’s fine.” Her father would bluster, and she’d apologize. A small price to pay.
“Great.” He flashed a smile, then made a few marks on his schedule as he walked away.
Ariella left the wings of the stage and headed to the back room, where she could stash her guitar in a locker.
Gonna be a little later than I thought. Please keep him calm.
She stared at her phone after the text shot off to Finn.
I’ll try. Bastian’s gonna be looking for you soon
.
Shit.
I’ll handle him. Just keep my father from freaking out.
Bastian had no idea how to have any fun. He was all about rules and regulations. If he said she needed to be ready by seven-thirty, he would expect her to be ready on time.
I’ll do what I can. Good luck!
She smiled at the text. Finn was a good friend. He understood her desire to be more than just a bargaining chip for her father to increase his business profits. As much as she knew her father did love her, she also knew he loved what she could bring him with a potential marriage.
Hey, Bastian. I’m running a little late. I’ll be home and ready ASAP. Promise.
She threw on a smiley face emoji but then deleted it. He’d probably think she was being sarcastic. He always thought the worst of her.
Where are you? I’ll come get you. You can’t be late tonight.
She shut her phone off. Plausible deniability. She couldn’t be accused of ignoring his texts if she couldn’t see them in the first place.
