I straightened, readjusted my tie, and took in a steeling breath. “Let’s go make you a star, Emily Ramsey.”
“As long as you don’t let me fall when I get there.”
“If you do, I will be there to catch you,” I murmured.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I began to lead her down the aisle.
I played it as I always did, a straitlaced businessman. There wasn’t a chance anyone would recognize me as Royce Reed.
Too many years gone.
A quick name change and who I was in the past no longer seemed to count.
If anyone did find my face familiar, they would pin me as a Mylton Records exec.
Still, I was on edge, not knowing when that rat bastard Cory was going to make his appearance, but I was certain he was already there. Pompous fuck parading as a star when he was nothing but a hack who’d stepped in to steal the limelight. On top of that, I was waiting for my stepfather to show his greedy face.
That piece of shit nothing but an insult to this injury. Salt in a bitter, putrefying wound.
“Emily Ramsey?” A photog called Emily’s name, and she jumped, like she was shocked that in the midst of the flood of famous faces he knew her name.
Gathering herself, she pinned on her gorgeous smile and moved that way. I stepped away so he could photograph her, the man hitting her with a slew of clicks and flashes as she approached.
Seemed fitting considering the girl could be working a runway.
“You look gorgeous tonight. Are you excited for your first live telecasted performance?” he asked from behind the rope.
“Definitely,” she answered. “It’s a dream come true.”
“And who are you with tonight?” Brow arched, he glanced at me.
I shifted on my feet, anxious as I looked her way. She stretched her hand out for me, and I moved to her side. I angled my head, answering for her, “I’m with the record label who got lucky enough to discover the true talent of Carolina George before someone else had the chance to snatch them up.”
Emily flinched at the description.
It was a dick move.
I knew it.
But the last thing we needed when this all went down tonight was for the media to be looking deeper into it. Fodder for a frenzy.
Digging for dirt.
If they dug deep enough, they were going to find bodies buried all over the place.
Enough fuel to set the tabloids on fire.
Make no mistake.
This house was going up in flames.
But I was a firm believer acts of arson should be kept discrete.
Still, I wound my arm around her waist.
Possessively.
Could almost feel her breathe a sigh of relief.
Fuck. I wished I could go back, tell her before we’d stepped out tonight. Confess it. But everything had lined up exactly as it was supposed to.
I had to see it through.
Finally, we made it all the way to the theater doors where the guests made their way in. Right inside, the rest of the band was waiting, accepting flutes of champagne, toasting each other again.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out.
Pete.
Thank fuck.
I’d been waiting all day for his call. Pins and fucking needles that were knitting me into a cluster of anxiety.
I leaned into Emily’s ear. “I have to take this.”
Curiosity filled her expression, but then she nodded, not pushing it. I dropped a kiss to her temple since I couldn’t seem to walk away without doing it.
I paced into a secluded corner, voices and music loud, so I was lifting my voice when I answered, “Pete.”
“Royce, man. We are a go. With Fitzgerald putting a wrench in things and demanding he be in Nashville to see through the signing, we had to scramble to get everything set in place to go down there rather than here. But it’s done. His plane is in route . . . he’s going straight to Reuben Carmichael’s house where the meeting is set rather than going to the awards. Everyone will be ready and in place for when you get there.”
A lump lodged itself in my throat. My sister’s face flashed. Anna’s right behind it. “You got the two girls to testify?”
“Statements are signed. And Carolina George’s manager rolled. Took a bit, but it’s done.”
Relief blistered through my body.
Singeing.
Scorching.
Vindication taunting me. So close I could taste the victory on my tongue. Feel the destruction of it vibrating through my fingertips.
“Where are you?” I looked around, attention jumping faces as I searched for the only ones that I cared about.
“On my way to the airport. Flight is in an hour. Don’t worry, brother, I wouldn’t miss this for all the money in that piece of shit’s offshore bank accounts.”
“We can’t fuck this up.”
“There’s no way for it to get fucked, man. It’s done. Alarms are already sounding. This is it.”