“That’s ironic, coming from you.” The woman who hasn’t supported my profession a day in her life. But she knows it would be career suicide if I left the stadium right now. She has the upper hand, and she’s using it to her advantage, but I’ll be damned if I don’t bring attention to the fact that her sole purpose for pointing it out is to have more time with Quinn.
With zero inflection in her tone, she says, “Twenty-thousand people.”
Yes, I’m aware of the number of fans who paid to hear me sing tonight. Does she think I don’t know that?
No matter how much I want to go, unless it’s an emergency I’m contractually obligated to stay. I may be the only parent Quinn has left, but that’s exactly why Ineedthis job.
“There’s no bleeding or signs of concussion. We’re just getting her checked out to be safe. She’ll be fine,” she reassures me.
I scrub a hand down my face. I wish this woman wasn’t always right. Even more than that, I wish I wasn’t backed into a corner with no other option.
“I’ll text you a picture of the card,” I tell her. “Keep me updated.”
I don’t know why I added that last part—it won’t matter. Once I leave this room, there will be no checking my messages for at least three hours.
She hangs up before I can say anything else and suddenly, I feel it. The thrumming of opening chords that signals my stage entrance. My five minutes are up.
A knot the size of a grapefruit tightens in my stomach.
There’s no more counting. No more silence.
I’m out of time, and I’ve never been this unprepared before.
I ditch my phone and jacket on the god-awful green velvet sofa across the room. Despite my distaste for the woman, Quinn is in capable hands with Caroline until I’m done here. I press my palms into the countertop in front of me, challenging my own reflection in the mirror. My cowboy hat tips forward, just enough to cover my forehead but not hide the glow around my dark irises.
In a blunt exhale, I remind myself of the one fact I choose tonever lose sight of: “You’re RhettfuckingDawson. That’s all they need to know.”
I blow through my dressing door, leaving it gaping open. A dimly lit hall leads to a flight of stairs where Rex, a member of the sound crew, is waiting for me. He holds out a pair of IEMs in his hand. I loop the cables over my ears one at a time and wedge the custom-molded monitors into place, effectively sealing out the noise around me. He secures a cable clip to my undershirt and pins the wire against my body.
Todd is waiting next. I duck my head, and he fits my guitar strap across my shoulder.
When we finally make eye contact, his voice blares through the ear monitor. “Everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be,” is the last thing I say to him before I take the stage, greeting an arena full of fans with a fake smile and a wave as they scream my name.
2
EVERETT
Six weeks later…
From record deal sound to hometown bound, Rhett Dawson’s life crashed like?—
I crumple the article and press the tip of a lighter against the edge. Orange embers lick at the metaphor and eat away the rest of that sentence. A small hand tugs at the thigh of my jeans, and I drop what hasn’t disintegrated to ash in the sink, snuffing out the flames with the faucet.
With the way my back is angled to her, I hope she missed what I just did.
I turn around and squat. A clump of dark curls hides Quinn’s face from me. I part them with both hands, tucking the loose strands behind her ears.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Wide, glassy eyes study my face. It’s clear I’m doing a terrible job of concealing my very adult problems from my very intuitive toddler.
Before she responds, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull itout, checking the caller ID.Jane Dawson—my mother and worrier of the family. I know she’ll see right through how this little setup she arranged is going if I don’t comfort Quinn before I answer.
I brush the backs of my fingertips down her cheek and offer her a smile—it worked the morning I had to tell her that her mom wasn’t coming home again. To my relief, it works now too. Her eyes brighten, and she scoots in closer so she can see the screen. Then she swipes her finger across it.
“Everett?”
