She takes a few slow steps into the office and sinks elegantly into the chair across from mine, the definition of posh in her tailored teal dress. “As I’ve already said, I regret the timing. But the funeral yesterday was the first time in two years I knew, with absolute certainty, where you’d be — considering you walked away without so much as a word to anyone, let alone a forwarding address.”
“You could’ve called my family attorney. He knows how to reach me.”
“Tell me — if I’d called, would you be here right now?”
My chin jerks higher, but I don’t respond. We both know nothing short of a court summons would’ve been enough to bring me back to this city.
“I thought as much.” Her lips purse. “Felicity, I am not your enemy.”
“Well, you’re certainly not my friend. Friends don’t sue each other.”
“That’s correct — I’m not your friend. Technically, I am your boss, for lack of a better term. And while I have always liked you, I also like my job.” She leans forward, voice intent. “What I donotlike, is failing to deliver on promises I make to my superiors. Do you realize the position you put me in, when you left? The damage you caused? Not just to the band, or to yourself—“ Her gaze flickers to my blonde hair and scans down my scowling face, searching for a glimpse of a girl who no longer exists. “—you also left me to explain to my bosses why the most popular Route 66 act in well over a decade wouldn’t be touring around the country, making good on that triple-platinum album they funded.”
“I didn’t—” I break off, sparks of shame kindling into flame as her words penetrate the angry fog that’s been surrounding me since her henchman shoved that lawsuit into my hands. When I speak, my tone is significantly less hostile. “I didn’t realize. Okay? When I walked away… I didn’t realize it would affect anyone else. I didn’t think about the repercussions. I just…” My eyes lock on hers, pleading for a shred of understanding. “Francesca, I had to get out. You don’t understand—”
“No. I do not understand. Perhaps because you never took the time to explain it to me.”
“I apologize. All right? I apologize for leaving. I apologize for disappearing without any explanation.” I cross my bare legs, picking absently at a loose thread at the sleeve of my sage green sundress. “What else do you want from me? Besides, apparently, all the money I possess and a lengthy legal battle over the breach of my contract?”
“Don’t be dramatic. I just needed a way to get you back to Los Angeles — I have no intentions to sue you, Felicity, nor do I want to.”
“Whatdoyou want?”
“No more than what you promised to deliver when you signed your contract.”
My eyes flash to hers, jaw locking. I don’t ask — I already know what she’s about to say.
“The tour.” She clasps her hands together in her lap. “I want you to go on tour with Ryder.”
I flinch at the sound of his name. If Francesca notices my reaction, she ignores it.
“Six months. Thirty cities. That’s what we agreed on two years ago.”
“Things were different two years ago.”
“Your hair, for starters.”
My eyes narrow. “Was that a joke?”
Her lips twist. “Merely an observation.”
“Observe all you want. You won’t change my mind. I’m not doing this tour.”
“Then you give us no choice but to pursue legal action against you.” Her eyes soften slightly. “Felicity, if it were up to me, I’d let you walk away. But it’s out of my hands. These orders are coming straight from the top. My boss’s boss’s boss. There’s nothing I can do.”
My jaw clenches and unclenches rhythmically.
“Have you seen him?” she asks after a moment of tense silence. “Since you left, have you spoken to him at all?”
“No.” I force out the world like poison from my lips.
“So you don’t know about—”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “I don’t know anything about Ryder Woods, and I don’t want to know.”
“But—”
“Francesca. I mean it. One more word about him, I’m walking out that door.”