Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sloane
It’s strange how much of my life has been pulled into someone else’s orbit: the band, the retreat.
Everything I thought was just a temporary distraction has become… more. More than I expected. More than I planned. More than I feel capable of handling.
I sit at the counter of The Coyote Cup, nursing my second cup of coffee. The steam rises in lazy spirals, and the town’s usual hum is quieter today. It’s all happening behind a thick fog. Maybe it’s the season.
The little coffee shop has truly transformed for Christmas.
Evergreen garlands hang across the windows, their deep green contrasting against the soft white twinkle lights that line the walls, casting everything in a warm glow.
Red and gold ornaments dangle from the low-hanging beams, and a large wreath, lush with pine needles and cranberry-colored baubles, is hung above the counter.
There’s a Christmas tree by the door, its branches adorned with mismatched ornaments, some homemade, some store-bought, all brightly reflecting the soft light from a crackling fireplace in the corner.
The whole place feels like the inside of a snow globe, cozy and festive, with a hint of cinnamon and pine.
Unfortunately, my heart isn’t feeling it, ever since that phone call.
I tug the sleeves of my oversized sweater down, glancing out the window as a car rolls by. The twinkling lights of Coyote Glen add to the quiet charm of this small town, but inside my head, it’s a hurricane.
A few weeks ago, the world felt so much clearer.
Wild Reverie was just a band, and I was just their cook. I was their caretaker, their buffer, their food maker. Nothing more. But now? I can’t keep my emotions from getting tangled in the mess. And now everything might be coming to an end.
Who the hell knows what a new manager truly means?
The door chimes, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up just in time to see Ivy and Olivia walk in, their cheeks flushed from the cold.
Ivy’s got that chaotic energy about her. She’s juggling a thousand things but still somehow manages to look like she’s breezing through it. It’s that rare, magical thing about Ivy, she’s always five steps ahead of everyone else and somehow still makes time for everyone who needs her.
Olivia, on the other hand, is all calm. She’s a human anchor, always bringing me back down when I need it most.
“Thank goodness for you two,” I mutter under my breath. I don’t know how I’d survive in this town without them.
They slide into the booth across from me, both of them eyeing me like they’re in full detective mode. They don’t even need to say anything; the unspoken understanding between us is so strong that it practically screams we know you’re not okay.
Which is why I think Ivy has left her circus at home.
“You good?” Ivy asks. She doesn’t even wait for an answer before she dives in. “You’ve been a little quiet lately. All this press stuff is just… a lot, huh?”
I give her a tight smile, her question making my shoulders feel even heavier. “Yeah, it’s been… overwhelming. But I’m fine. Just adjusting.”
Olivia raises an eyebrow. I know her well enough to recognize that look, the one that says, Sloane, I know you’re lying, but I’m not going to call you on it just yet.
“What really happened with those leaks?” Olivia asks. “I heard Ezra’s taking it hard, and I can tell it’s affecting everyone. And I know you’re feeling it too.”
I chew on my lip, glancing down at my hands. The cool ceramic of my coffee mug is a lifeline.
“Well, it’s turned into more,” I admit. “There’s a new manager who wants to work with the band.” I sigh heavily. “To use all this press for good.”
Ivy’s eyes widen slightly, her usual playful demeanor replaced with a sharp intensity. “A new manager? For Wild Reverie?”
I nod slowly, feeling it all settle heavier in my chest. “Yeah. Some new guy. Apparently, he’s been following their rise for years and thinks he can… save them.”
Olivia remains quiet for a moment, her gaze thoughtful as she sips her coffee. I can almost hear the wheels turning behind her calm exterior. She’s always been good at reading between the lines, and right now, she’s reading me loud and clear.
“So,” she finally says. “Where does that leave you?”
I hesitate, the question catching me off guard. For a moment, I stare at my hands, tracing the edge of my mug.
“I don’t know,” I finally admit. “I mean, I don’t think they will need me as a cook on tour.
I’m pretty sure I’m only supposed to work with them while they are in town, so I guess that means…
” I try to offer a blasé one-shouldered shrug, but I don’t think I pull it off well.
“Well, it’s time for me to find something new. Maybe get back to journalism.”
Why does the career I worked so hard for all my life now fill me with dread?
Ivy’s sharp gaze softens as she studies me, and I can see the understanding flicker behind her eyes.
“Sloane, you’ve been through a lot lately,” she says quietly. “You’ve been carrying this weight, all this uncertainty, all while juggling them and you… I’m surprised you’re even still standing. Do you want to go on tour with them?”
Of course I do.
At least… I think I do.
But I’m not going to be anywhere I’m not wanted.
“I don’t want things to end,” I confess.
“Things with me, Roman, Creed, and Ezra, have been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.
And I’m scared that if I go back to being just Sloane Katz, the journalist who got burned out, everything will feel…
empty again. I’m not sure I can go back to that life. ”
Olivia watches me, quiet and contemplative, before speaking up.
“But are you sure that’s the only option?
I mean, you don’t have to decide right now, do you?
Maybe you don’t need to go back to journalism, but you also don’t have to disappear into the background of Wild Reverie’s spotlight.
Maybe there’s another way to fit into the picture, without losing yourself in it. ”
I bite my lip, unsure. “I don’t know, Liv.
I keep thinking about it, but every time I try to picture myself on the road, surrounded by flashing cameras and screaming fans, I get this tight feeling in my chest. I don’t know if I can handle that level of…
attention. Fame. It’s a lot, and I’m not sure I’m cut out for it. ”
Ivy tilts her head, her hair spilling over one shoulder as she studies me. “Okay, but you also can’t stay stuck in emotional purgatory forever. You need a plan. A goal. Something that doesn’t involve brooding over musicians with great jawlines.”
I snort into my coffee, nearly choking. “Wow. Harsh.”
“Accurate,” Olivia says, not missing a beat. She smirks, stirring her drink. “You’ve been living in a rock band soap opera for so long, Sloane. Maybe it’s time you focus on yourself. Reclaim your main character energy. Just in case you don’t go with them.”
I stare at them both, torn between wanting to argue and wanting to crawl under the table. “You make it sound like a boy band has kidnapped me.”
“Oh, please.” Ivy waves a hand. “Maybe you have been a little. But you need to think about yourself. About journalism, about Coyote Glen, about where you want to go next.”
I swallow hard.
Where do I want to go next?
Shit, I have a lot to figure out.