I turn to leave, but as I do, she adds, “I hope you’ve figured out how to not be a world-class jerk in front ofourfans in a couple hours.”
Infuriating.
This woman is unbelievablyinfuriating.
Chapter 15
Rachel
Youknowthatthrummingbeneath your chest that feels like your heart has grown wings? And I’m not talking about Faith Hill’s lyrical version where she wants her heart to fly to the man that she loves…I’m talking about the anxiety kind. The kind where every single insecurity you’ve ever felt in your life is telling you to get the heck out of Dodge.
The message from KillerPlotTwist is still giving me the creeps.
I’m about to step out onto a stage whereone thousand peoplewill be staring at me.
Then Evan comes in and dares to say that I am not taking this seriously and that I can’t write. Which obviouslyI can. He just doesn’t like what I write.
And my irritation with him made me pick out my most frilly dress I brought. There are frills upon frills. So many frills that it would rival any dress a fifteen-year-old girl would wear for their quinceanera. It is a beautiful orange, the kind of orange that bursts forth from the earth when the sun dips just low enough to set fire to the horizon. It doesn’t exactly flatter my natural coloring. It would look best if my pale skin was tanned and my red hair wasn’t red, but the fact that nothing went together perfectly made me admire the outfit even more.
At least, when I picked it out with my goal to frustrate Evan…
But now, I’m not so sure, because again, one thousand peoplewill be looking at me, finally putting a person to the username BarrettBeyondTheBadge.
I see his disgust immediately when I enter backstage.
“Nowthatis a dress!” Melanie says, and she looks both intrigued and satisfied, as if she wouldn’t have chosen it, but she knew I would.
I let my eyes linger a little longer on Evan before shifting my gaze to Melanie.
“You don’t think it’s a little much?” Evan’s words are low, and most delightful of all, bothered.
His suit is well tailored and tight, as if it had been stitched around him for the perfect fit. His white shirt underneath is starch and most definitely pressed.
“Opposite of you, she’ll look amazing. I heard you both had a pleasant evening last night for dinner,” Melanie replies nonchalantly, not aware of the conversation Evan and I just had two hours prior.
I force a fake, tight smile on my face. “Yes, last night was amiable enough.” I want to add,but it is only because we were obviously too preoccupied with our hunger to remember that we hate each other.
“Good. We don’t need any repeat of our practice forum, especially in front of a crowd this large,” Melanie rambles on. “Have you seen the crowd, Evan? It’s at least three times as big as the audience for the last book release. Once news spread of you touring with BarrettBeyondTheBadge, we had to offer up more tickets. We’ve sold out at every stop and have a waitlist. We’ve never had this kind of turnout. Rachel just might be your good luck charm.”
I can’t help it. I close the gap between Evan and me, making sure to pull up the hem of my dress so he can see that I’m barefoot. He seemed repulsed by that fact the night before. I watch him roll his eyes.
“Did you hear that, Evan? I’m like your little four-leaf clover,” I say.
“More like poison ivy,” he replies smoothly and quietly so Melanie doesn’t hear him, as if he had that insult tucked in his pocket for a while. “And it’s unsanitary to walk around with no shoes on.”
“It’s called grounding, Evan,” I say.
“I believe grounding is when you connect to the earth, not these stained mahogany floors.” He keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets and stands more rigid than a statue made of cold concrete.
“Ten minutes, you two!” Melanie shouts. “Let’s make sure this goes well.”
It’s not a suggestion. It’s a demand.
Melanie’s outfit is perfectly posh. Her nails are long and painted a burgundy that matches her pantsuit. A lacy black camisole peeks out from her suit jacket. Her brown hair is shoulder length, perfectly clipped at the ends. Her hands are adorned with all her shiny baubles in varying gemstones—lapis, emerald, diamond, and is that turquoise?
It isn’t a stone I often see worn by New Yorkers. They consider turquoise the cheap diamond of the west, best worn by theShoulda Been a Cowboytypes.
In other words, everyone back in Oklahoma adores turquoise.
