“Don’t you have tons of money now? Why not just buy your way out of it?”
“I’ve thought about it, but it’s… complicated.”
“Can’t you, I don’t know, uncomplicate it?”
He’s quiet for a moment. His lips part, then curve like something just clicked into place. “Yeah. Maybe.” Then he shakes off whatever it is. “Anyway, what do you want Paula for?”
“I want to talk to her about dropping the act.”
Cash raises both brows, then slowly spins his chair to face me.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Us. The whole ‘couple’ thing. I’m done, Cash. I want out.”
I was never really in, but I thought it was my only option. Cash is a prime example of what happens when you give up all your power. He can’t get it back. And Iwon’tend up in the same position.
Plus, what are they going to do? Kick me off the tour? I’ve earned my spot. And for the first time, I’m choosing to believe it’s because of my talent and not the fake romance between me and Cash. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
He nods. Once. Twice. “Are you trying to go back to Chicago when we’re off?”
“Yeah. That’s part of it,” I admit.
We’re playing in Arizona next week. Then we have a couple of days off after the show. The brief break happens to fall on the same night as Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals—ifthe Saints win their next game. Which they will.
I want to be there when Miles lifts the Cup. To rush the ice and hug him like all the other partners.
For a long moment, Cash is quiet. Then he walks over and sits on the opposite end of the couch. “I’ll try my best to get her to agree, but we should strategize. Your team and mine are going to lose their minds. And the fans? They might feel lied to.”
My hands are still trembling from adrenaline. Of everyone wrapped up in this, the fans are the ones I don’t want to hurt. I can only hope they understand that, in order to give them my best, I need to beme. And the best version of me existswithMiles.
“I have to try.” I sound more confident than I feel.
Cash nods slowly. “I get it. It’s better to set boundaries upfront… God knows I should’ve?—”
The door swings open so quickly it brings a breeze with it.
“You’re up in fifteen, Cash.” Paula looks up from her phone and notices me. “Oh. How’re you, Summer?”
“Not bad. Do you have a minute to talk?”
No point in delaying.
She looks back at her screen. “Not really, but go on.”
I glance at Cash. He gives a slight nod.
I scoot forward on the couch, sitting straighter. I’d stand if I didn’t think my legs would give out. “Paula, can we talk about the whole fake relationship thing?”
“What about it?” She continues to pace, not looking up.
“Well, Cash and me—we’d like to end the ruse.”
Paula cackles. She could do voice-overs for Cruella de Vil, given how shrill the sound is. “Funny.”
“We’re serious,” Cash adds, his jaw tight.
“I’m sure you are. But that’s not happening.” She finally looks up at us, and I think I prefer her dismissal. “Don’t forget, you signed a contract.”
She pivots and marches toward the door. “C’mon, Cash,” she calls, not bothering to check whether he’s following.
