Chapter 41
RIO
Lunch arrives. Silver platters containing the kind of upscale, artisanal sandwiches you find in high-end boardrooms.
I watch as the catering staff wheels in the cart, the sandwiches cut into perfect triangles, sprouts sticking out, fancy cheese with exotic names.
Curiously, I spot cans of bright yellow Quench soft drinks poking up in ice buckets. Why’s our former Las Vegas sponsor popping in? Will we be photographed drinking it or something?
My stomach growls, but I’m too nervous to eat much. I grab a sandwich anyway and take a bite.
“Hope you boys won’t mind, this is a ‘working lunch,’” says Derek Ward. “I want each of you to give me your version of the next five years. Starting with Keith.”
I almost wince when Ward calls on Keith first. Big mistake. Keith starts rambling about some beachfront property he wants to buy for his parents in Tampa.
He’s not bombing exactly, but Jesus, could he be any more basic?
Ward calls on me next. I straighten up in my chair, ready to impress.
My mind races to organize all my big ideas—international tours, chart-topping albums, all that.
I’m about to talk about our crossover potential when my phone vibrates loudly against the polished conference table.
Prince Michael’s eyebrows crash together, his lips press into a thin line.
He doesn’t say a word, but the message is crystal clear: shut your fucking phone off now.
I glance over at Steven. He’s giving me this look that says I’m about to blow everything we’ve worked for..
“Excuse me,” I say.
I glance down. My finger’s already on the mute button—until I see Maddie’s name lighting up the screen.
Maddie.
I haven’t heard a peep from her since that night I caught her sneaking out of Joseph’s hotel room. The night that turned into tabloid headlines that nearly ruined my life.
She wouldn’t call now unless something was seriously wrong.
I shove my chair back.
“Gentlemen,” I say, trying to sound professional while my mind’s racing a million miles an hour, “I have to take this call. It’s urgent.”
I don’t wait for permission. I just bolt for the door, feeling their stares burning into my back.
Prince Michael’s probably enraged enough to strangle me now. And Steven’s gonna kill me later. But I can’t think about that. All I can think is: Maddie’s calling me. After everything that happened, Maddie’s calling me.
I duck into a corner of the reception area and press the phone to my ear.
“Maddie, what is it?”
“Rio.” Her voice is thick, like she’s been crying. “Sorry to disturb you. Steven said something about the band being at a big meeting. But this is an emergency.”
She takes a shaky breath. “It’s Snorty. He collapsed this morning. He can’t breathe right and he’s making these horrible choking sounds.”
“What can I do?”
“We’re at Washington Park Pet Animal Emergency Facility. The vet says he needs surgery right away. But it’s six thousand dollars, Rio. We don’t have that kind of money. I didn’t know who else to call.”
I open my mouth to ask the question, then close it again. She doesn’t deserve that kind of snark.
Or… maybe she does, given all she put me through.
“Why don’t you ask your rich fiancé?”
“Joseph?” She emits a hollow laugh. “He’s not my fiancé. When are you going to believe me? Can you come, Rio? I’ll explain everything.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I take a deep breath and head back into the boardroom. My hands shake.
This is career suicide. I’m about to blow off the biggest meeting of our lives for a dog. Maddie’s dog.
The same Maddie who nearly destroyed everything I’d worked for.
The double doors feel heavier than before as I push through them.
Everyone freezes mid-conversation. Keith’s mouth hangs open. Steven’s eyes narrow to slits. Prince Michael’s face turns that dangerous shade of red I’ve seen only twice before.
Derek Ward just raises one eyebrow.
“Guys, Mr. Ward,” I say with as much fortitude and confidence I can muster. “I’m sorry. I received an emergency call and I must leave. Prince Michael can speak for me. We’re all one team.”
I don’t wait for their verbal responses. I bolt out of there, through the lobby, past the receptionist who’s watching me like I’ve lost my mind.
Outside, I see Prince Michael’s stretch limo idling at the curb. But the traffic looks bumper-to-bumper.
I spot the green subway entrance on the corner and make a split-second decision. I haven’t ridden the subway in forever, but I race down the grimy stairs two at a time, hoping I’ll arrive on time.