Chapter 26
MADDIE
Ifollow Rio and that woman to his dressing room. But the door slams in my face with a sharp crack that makes me flinch.
Then the lock clicks into place.
I stand with my hand half-raised to knock, not even sure what I would say.
"Maddie!" Prince Michael's voice booms down the hallway. I turn to see him charging toward me like an enraged bull with Antoine trailing behind him.
Snorty yips in fright. Then he falls into a wheezing cough.
I quickly calm him and put him in his carrier before rising to address Rio's handlers.
"I'd like you to explain yourself, please." Prince Michael says, speaking through gritted teeth.
"Explain what?" My stomach drops. Whatever this is, it's bad.
Prince Michael shoves his phone in my face so hard I jump back.
The screen shows a photo that makes my gut twist. In it, Joseph's hand's grabbing my ass, his lips pressed against mine. The headline above it screams that I'm cheating on Rio with my ex-fiancé.
"You get paid big bucks to pretend to be Rio's fake girlfriend," Prince Michael spits, "and you fly in your ex-fiancé to join the pre-nuptial fun?"
No," I choke out, my voice barely audible. My throat feels like it's closing up. "It's not like that. I'll explain everything.”
My voice shaking as I try to keep it together. I tell them about seeing Joseph in the lobby, how he chased me outside.
"He's supposedly here for some financial conference this afternoon."
"Prince Michael's face turns an even deeper shade of red.
"And why did he squeeze your ass?" he demands, each word sharp as a knife.
I shrug, feeling my shoulders tense up.
"Who knows. Probably to twist the knife. To humiliate me even more after what he did."
"Which was what exactly?" Antoine asks.
I take a deep breath. "He didn’t show up at church on our wedding day.”
Antoine's voice carries a note of horror mixed with pity. “Left you at the altar?”
The memory floods back. I can still feel the scratchy lace of my dress collar. The weight of my veil.
The painful pinch of those stupid heels as I stood there waiting.
And waiting. My mom's worried glances. The whispers starting in the back pews.
"Everyone was there," I say, my voice hollow. "My whole family. College friends. Work associates. I stood there for almost a quarter hour before I found his text."
My throat tightens. "He just wrote he couldn't go through with it."
"Left at the altar," says Antoine. "This is strong imagery. We must make use of it."
"What do you mean?"
"You're already booked for the Braxton show at seven tonight, right before the cocktail party. All we need to do is make Braxton understand what really went down with Joseph. And all of America will be on your side."
"Sounds good."
"Now the story I pitched Braxton was a 'Cinderella gets engaged to her rockstar prince' puff piece. By now, Braxton must have read that tabloid story. She'll call you on it, asking you to explain yourself immediately."
"And what do I say?"
"You'll have to tell it all, Maddie," says Antoine, his voice more serious than I've ever heard it.
"And really have that cathartic moment when you explain how utterly crushed and humiliated you were when Joseph left you at the altar—"
"But I can't!"
The words burst from me, desperate and raw.
"Everyone watching will think how pathetic I must be to have a man stand me up like that. They'll see me as damaged goods. The pitiable girl not fit to marry. No one can know that."
"They must." Prince Michael's voice cuts through the room.
"Antoine's right. It will create instant sympathy. It shows the public you were wounded, vulnerable. Joseph took advantage of that vulnerability."
Silence descends, thick and suffocating. A clock ticks somewhere, marking each second of my forthcoming public execution on the Braxton show.
Then Prince Michael speaks. "It's the only way to protect Rio. And your brother. The entire band. Everything we've built together."
I have hours to kill before the Braxton interview, so I go to my suite and take a nap, hugging Snorty's warm body against mine.
Then I wake up to prepare for the evening ahead. I apply cosmetics quickly, wishing Antoine was here to help advise me.
Even though what happened this morning wasn’t my fault, I feel like I disappointed Antoine.
Disappointed everyone.
Snooty comes up to me, with Rio’s bandana in his teeth.
“Thanks for remembering, Snorty,” I say, trying not to dwell on the tears welling up in my eyes.
Man and dog have formed a close relationship in the last several hours. And now …
“Here you go, Snorts,” I say, tying the bow with extra care and making it flair at the end, like Rio tried to teach me. “You look quite dashing! Now the interview awaits.”
"We're live in five minutes!" someone shouts as I try to settle my nerves before the Braxton interview.
The conference room adjacent to the rehearsal theater has been transformed into a media command center.
Thick black cables snake across the patterned carpet as Antoine and Prince Michael give me last minute media tips
"Remember," Antoine says, looking into my eyes. "You do not fight the host. You vibe with her."
"Maddie, this is Braxton," Prince Michael says a moment later, practically shoving me toward a woman who looks more like a gladiator than a talk show host.
And Braxton is an , towering over me in a sleek all-black getup. She shakes my hand with a grip that could crush walnuts. No smile. All business.
"Have you been on television before?" she asks.
"No."
"Well, it is easy. Just answer my questions in a brief, coherent way. And you will be fine," she says, eyes flicking to Snorty with disdain. "See that the creature behaves."
See that you behave, I say in my mind.
Snorty, sensing the insult, tilts his chin and lets out a defiant harrumph.
I sit in the designated chair, smoothing the fabric of my dress over my knees for the tenth time. My hands shake.
Just a few hours ago, Rio looked at me with eyes so cold they burned. He thinks I betrayed him.
The whole world thinks I betrayed him. And Joseph W. King, of all people.
This interview is my only chance to fix it.
"And we are live in five, four, three..." the cameraman calls.
The red light blinks on.
"Hello from Las Vegas," Braxton says to the camera. Her transformation is instant—the cold gladiator melts into a warm, inviting best friend.
"We are sitting here with the lovely fiancée of Rio Wilder. Maddie, welcome. Let’s get down to it. How did you and Rio meet?"
I paste a smile on my face, just as Antoine rehearsed. "Well, I’ve known Rio since I was a little kid. He was my brother’s best friend. But we didn't really connect until recently."
"And is it true love?" she asks, leaning in.
"Of course," I say.
"But if it is true love," Braxton says, her tone dropping to an insidious, conspiratorial whisper, "why did cameras catch you kissing your ex-fiancée earlier this morning?"
The technician behind her flashes the image on the monitor of me and Joseph locked in an embrace.
I take a deep breath and remember Antoine's words. Use the pain.
"My ex is a troubled man," I begin.
"We had set a date for our wedding. The day arrived and all my family and friends were in church, ready to see us walk down the aisle. But..."
I stutter the words, exactly as Antoine coached.
But then I look turn to see Joseph’s arms around me in the tabloid photo. And the old humiliation rises up, making the stutter real.
"Joseph failed to show up," I say, my voice trembling. "He left me standing at the altar. Alone."
I bury my fingers in Snorty’s fur for strength.
"We had no contact until this morning. He saw me in the shopping area. He followed after me, saying he read about my engagement to Rio. Then he just grabbed me. Out of the blue."
"Why do you think he did that?" Braxton asks.
"I suspect Joseph’s ego couldn't handle seeing me happy with someone else," I say, my voice gaining strength. "He didn't grab me because he loves me. He grabbed me to ruin me."
Braxton pauses. Then she shakes her head at the camera. "What a jerk."
And with those three words, I know I have won. America is on my side.