Page 31

Mel

“So, you’re really going to do it?” Ethan asked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he drove us back to Nova’s place from the airport. “Talk to her tonight?”

I stared out the passenger window, watching the trees blur by. The confidence I’d felt earlier was fading with each mile closer to Nova’s mansion.

I’d made my decision, especially after spending three days with Ethan and his parents. It was time to stand up for my dreams.

But still…

“I don’t know.” My stomach twisted into knots. “Maybe I should wait until after the tour.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“I’m not sure about anything.” I laughed, but it came out hollow. “That’s the problem. I know I don’t want to be Nova’s tour manager anymore, but I have no idea what I do want. ”

Ethan slowed the car at a red light and turned to look at me. The intensity in his blue-gray eyes made my breath catch.

“You don’t have to have everything mapped out, Mel. Most people don’t.” His voice was soft but certain. “But life’s too short to keep doing something you know isn’t right for you.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve always known what you wanted to do.”

“That’s not true.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “After I left the military, I was lost. Couldn’t figure out where I fit in civilian life.”

The light turned green, and he accelerated smoothly.

“What changed?” I asked.

“I stopped focusing on what I was running from and started thinking about what I was running toward.” He glanced at me. “You’ve got enough savings to live comfortably for years, right? There’s no rush. Take your time figuring out your plan for your life.”

I nodded, though the thought of stepping into the unknown still terrified me. “It just feels like I’m letting everyone down.”

“By everyone , do you mean Nova?”

“Her. The team.” I hesitated. “My mom.”

He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing gently. “I have to believe your mom would understand. You’ve done your part. Nova is successful. It’s hard that your mom isn’t here to see it, but you don’t have to spend your life chained to her dream.”

Knowing Ethan understood the dilemma helped me feel more like it was the right thing to do. But that didn’t change the bottom line.

“Nova’s going to completely freak out,” I said, staring out the window. “She hates change.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be an abrupt switch that causes her panic.” Ethan’s tone was practical now. “You could ease her into it. Stay for the rest of this tour and start training someone new—someone Nova can tolerate. ”

“That…actually might work.” For the first time, quitting felt possible. “Give her time to adjust to the idea.”

“Exactly.” He smiled, and my heart did that ridiculous little flip it had started doing whenever he looked at me like that. “Nova is stronger than we give her credit for and only plays the diva because you allow it.”

I let out a sigh. “I know. That was part of Mom’s dream too, you know? It’s sort of the package we all bought into: we would all work hard, then Nova would be the star. She would get to shine and then take care of us financially.”

“And you’ve done that, and so has she. Nova will still get to shine. Her career isn’t going anywhere, and you’re not leaving her. You’re just taking time for yourself.”

“But telling her sooner rather than later is probably my best bet.” More to keep myself from chickening out than anything.

We drove in silence for a minute before I gathered the courage to ask the question that had been lingering in my mind.

“How long will you and the Citadel team be around? Or, I guess I mean your inner team.”

His expression shifted, becoming more professional. “At least until the end of the tour. Or when the stalker is caught. After that, Nova can transition to a more regular security detail, either through Citadel or another company.”

“Oh.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “That makes sense.”

“It’s standard procedure.”

No talk of what that meant for us, and I didn’t want to push it. I tried to remind myself I didn’t need a map laid out for our relationship.

We rode the rest of the way in silence. The sprawling gates of Nova’s mansion came into view as we rounded the long driveway. Ethan pulled up to the front entrance and cut the engine.

“I need to check in with the team,” he said, all business now. “Make sure the property is secure and see where everything stands. ”

“Right. Of course.”

He hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, then simply nodded and got out of the car. I watched him walk away, his broad shoulders stiff under his tailored suit jacket. Something had changed between us during that conversation, and I wasn’t sure how to fix it—or if I should even try.

We weren’t at the ranch anymore. Weren’t living inside my dream. We were back to reality.

I grabbed my bag and headed inside, my footsteps echoing on the marble floor of the entryway. The house was quieter than usual—no assistants rushing around, no stylists arguing about fabric choices. Just the low hum of the air conditioning and distant music from upstairs. Nova must be working on choreography.

I followed the familiar path to her wing of the house, pausing outside her bedroom door to prepare myself for whatever tornado of demands might be waiting. Deep breath in, slow exhale, shoulders back—the routine I’d perfected over years of being Nova’s personal emotional shock absorber.

I found her in her massive walk-in closet, surrounded by racks of clothing and three tablet screens showing different outfit combinations. Her stylist must have sent over new options for the tour. Nova’s blonde hair was piled messily on top of her head, and she wore her “thinking” outfit—oversized sweater, leggings, and fuzzy socks, a stark contrast to her glamorous stage persona.

“Mel! Thank God you’re back.” She barely looked up from her screens. “I’ve been thinking about the setlist for Phoenix. We need to swap ‘Moonlight Memories’ with ‘Heartbreak Highway.’ The energy flow is all wrong.”

I recognized the manic gleam in her eyes and the rapid-fire way she spoke. Nova was in full diva mode—the zone she entered when she was feeling creative or anxious or both.

“And we need to add another costume change before the encore. Oh, and call Dexter—his choreography for ‘Steel Butterfly’ is too complicated for the backup dancers. They looked like drunk giraffes at the last rehearsal.”

She continued rattling off demands and changes, barely pausing for breath. I pulled out my phone and started taking notes, knowing better than to interrupt when she was like this. Any mention of my quitting would only trigger a Nova-sized explosion.

“The lighting cues for ‘Dangerous’ were completely off in Memphis. Tell Marcus to fix it or we’re finding a new lighting director.” She paused, finally looking at me directly. “You’re taking notes, right? This is important, Mel.”

“I’ve got it all.” I forced a smile. “Everything will be perfect for Phoenix when the tour starts again.”

Nova’s phone chimed, and she grabbed it, immediately distracted by whatever was on the screen. I watched her, this sister I’d spent my entire adult life supporting. Her life was a constant whirlwind of activity, decisions, drama—everything at maximum volume. I loved her fiercely, but I definitely couldn’t continue to live in her hurricane forever.

While Nova was distracted with her FaceTime call, her voice rising with each sentence, I checked my own messages. Another text from an unknown number—one of those spam messages I’d been getting for weeks.

This one showed a coupon for a local coffee shop:

FLASH SALE—$1 OFF ANY DRINK. TODAY ONLY!

I glanced at Nova, who was now gesturing wildly at whoever was on her screen. The conversation about my future would have to wait. Maybe coffee would help ease the tension. It certainly couldn’t hurt. Hand her a drink then see about broaching the news .

“Hey,” I said when she ended her call. “I’m going to grab coffee. Want your usual?”

Nova’s face lit up. “God, yes. Double shot, extra foam, three pumps vanilla, one pump caramel, light ice.”

“And a lemon poppy seed muffin?”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She blew me a kiss and turned back to her tablets. “Don’t be too long. We need to finalize these setlist changes today.”

“I’ll be quick,” I promised, slipping out of the room.

Cowardice and relief washed over me in equal measure as I headed for the garage. Maybe the conversation would have to wait for another day when Nova wasn’t so…Nova. I grabbed my car keys from the hook in the kitchen, ignoring the voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like Ethan telling me I was just postponing the inevitable.

One of Ethan’s security guards—a broad-shouldered guy whose name I thought was Dennis or David—was stationed at the gate. He stepped forward as I approached in my car.

“Ms. Rivers,” he said, leaning down to my window. “Where are you headed?”

“Just to get coffee.” I held up my phone with the coupon. “It’ll be quick.”

He frowned slightly. “I can send someone to get it for you.”

I sighed. “I’m already in the car, and honestly, I could use some time alone.”

His frown deepened. “Mr. Cross won’t like it.”

Something about his tone sparked a flash of irritation in me.

“Well, maybe Ethan’s not going to be around long enough for me to really worry about what he likes or doesn’t like.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. One, they were way too sharp for this conversation with David/Dennis, but also…I hadn’t even realized I was feeling that way.

The guard’s expression remained neutral. “It’s not safe for you to?— ”

“Nova is the client,” I cut him off. “She’s the one with the stalker. She’s the one you were hired to protect. Not me.”

He hesitated, then reluctantly stepped back. “Please at least stay in public areas and return directly.”

“Thank you,” I said, not bothering to hide my relief as I pulled through the gate. The afternoon sun was warm on my skin through the open window, and I took a deep breath of fresh air. For a few minutes, at least, I could pretend I was just a normal person running a normal errand. Not Nova Rivers’s sister. Not a tour manager contemplating career suicide. Just Mel.

The coffee shop was packed, of course. I joined the long line, my mind still churning over the almost-conversation with Nova and the abrupt coolness with Ethan.

A toddler in front of me dropped his stuffed dinosaur, and I picked it up with a smile, handing it back to his grateful mother. That could be me someday—a mom with a regular life, regular problems. Not private security and stalkers and world tours.

By the time I reached the counter, my mood had soured further.

“Hi,” I said to the barista. “I’ll have a double shot, extra foam, three pumps vanilla, one pump caramel, light ice, and a small black coffee. Oh, and a lemon poppy seed muffin.”

I showed her the coupon on my phone.

She squinted at it. “I’m sorry, but that’s not a legitimate coupon.”

“What? But it just came through.”

She shook her head. “We’re not running any promotions right now. Someone probably spoofed our logo.”

Great. Just perfect. It wasn’t like a dollar off would make or break me, but it was the principle of the thing. One more annoyance in a day full of them.

“Fine,” I muttered, handing over my credit card. I really needed to figure out how to block these spam texts once and for all. Maybe Jace could help. He’d done wonders with Nova’s texts.

It took forever for them to make Nova’s complicated order. I scrolled through my phone, deleting the fake coupon and a dozen other spam messages I’d ignored. Maybe I should get a new number altogether. But that would mean getting the new number to everyone, updating all my accounts…another headache I didn’t need.

“Double shot, extra foam, three pumps vanilla, one pump caramel, light ice!” the barista finally called.

I gathered the drinks and muffin, balancing them carefully as I headed back to my car. The parking lot was crowded, and I had to weave between vehicles to reach mine. A work van was parked next to my driver’s side now, so close I’d have to squeeze to get to my door. I juggled the coffee cups, trying not to spill as I maneuvered into the narrow space.

When I finally opened the car door, I nearly dropped everything.

A bouquet of deep red roses lay across the passenger seat.

My heart skipped a beat. Ethan . It had to be Ethan. But how had he managed it? Maybe he’d had one of his team do it—some silent apology for the way our conversation had ended? How had he known I needed it?

I set the coffee in the cupholders and picked up the flowers. They were gorgeous—velvety petals just beginning to open, the stems wrapped in expensive-looking paper. No card, but that seemed like Ethan’s style. Direct but private.

I couldn’t help but smile as I buried my nose in the bouquet, inhaling deeply.

The scent was odd—too sweet, almost chemical. Before I could process that thought, the world started tilting sideways. My vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in like spilled ink.

Something was wrong. Very wrong .

“Ethan,” I tried to say, but my tongue felt heavy and useless in my mouth.

The roses fell from my hands as I slumped against the steering wheel. My last conscious thought was that I should have listened to the security guard after all.

Then everything went black.