You guys look cute together!
They arrived at the convention center, and Cary stepped onto the red carpet with Sebastien a few paces behind. Cameras snapped like popcorn as the rock star struck a pose—like he was up for Best New Artist instead of a Lifetime Achievement award. A music journalist had once called him a national treasure, and his band never let him forget it.
When the SDM team found their seats, Cary’s bandmates had already devoured the breadbasket, leaving only a few sad pieces of pumpernickel—everyone’s least favorite. The musicians weren’t about to turn down a three-course meal—saying no to free food violated the American Federation of Musicians’ bylaws.
Cary pulled out the chair next to Tyler, but before he could sit, Sebastien cleared his throat and patted the seat beside him. “Sit here. Next to me.”
Without missing a beat, Cary slid around the table. Tyler kept her expression neutral, pretending not to care. Lara, of course, seized the empty chair beside her boyfriend like it had been reserved for royalty.
Meanwhile, Tommy plopped down beside Tyler, with Kim settling on her other side and Vegas sliding in next to her, so it wasn’t a total disaster.
“Dude, what’s Lara even doing right now?” Kim glared across the table. “She shouldn’t be sitting with the talent.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Tyler said. “Maybe Vegas shouldn’t sit next to you. Sebastien keeps looking over here.”
Kim bit her bottom lip and glanced at Sebastien. “Do you think he’d, like, fire me?”
“On the spot,” Tyler said. “And he’d probably do it with a smile.”
Ever since Vegas came back, Sebastien had been trying to push Kim off the tour. He kept saying she was “money coming out of my pocket,” like having one more tour manager would send him into bankruptcy. But Vegas needed the backup, and Kim was damn good at her job. She knew her shit better than most TMs out there—male or female.
When everyone was finally seated, Cary picked up the bottle of red wine on the table and examined its label.
“Don’t do it,” Tyler warned him, eyeing the bottle in his hand. She’d been to enough industry galas to know exactly why this particular vineyard kept showing up. Every year, the same bottle from Niagara. Every year, the same hangover from hell. They didn’t donate it out of generosity—they just couldn’t sell it.
Cary nodded and put down the bottle. “I’m ordering wine for the table.”
“It’s red or white”—she shrugged—“or nothing.” She picked up her glass. “I’m drinking water.”
Cary flagged down a server and whispered something in his ear. Then, the server promptly returned with six bottles of Mission Hill Oculus. Knowing Cary, it was the most expensive wine on the menu.
Confused, she shook her head. “How did you do that?”
Cary stretched a grin and handed his credit card to the server. “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.”
“Fucking right,” Tommy said, pouring himself a glass instead of waiting to be served like everyone else.
“Let me get this,” Sebastien said, reaching for the breast pocket of his blazer. But Tyler didn’t flinch—she knew his game. He always waitedfor someone else to put a card down before swooping in with his grand gesture. Classic Sebastien: generous only when it didn’t cost him a dime.
“I’ve got it,” Cary said, and Sebastien put his wallet away without protesting.
After the meal—a choice between rubber chicken or slimy mushroom-stuffed peppers—Cary’s bandmates said their goodbyes and left. Tyler envied them. She was ready to go, too, but the gala would last another two hours—maybe three if people kept congratulating themselves.
By nine p.m. she was a goner. With every stupid story Tommy told she edged the butter knife closer to her wrist.Is it sharp enough?Sure the gala was punishment, but this was cruel and unusual. And potentially dangerous.
She held her phone underneath the table and texted Cary.Want to get out of here? Jets are playing. Game just started.
He replied,Please! Be right back. xo
How was she going to ditch her colleagues without being found out?
Cary stood from the table, and Vegas said, “I’ll come with you.”
“Thanks, I’ve got it,” Cary responded.
A few minutes later her phone vibrated. It was a text message from Cary.
Play along.
