“But I manage your career so well, you could retire on a small island by now.”

Teeth gnashing, I hung up the phone and then slammed the receiver down a few more times for good measure.

After my phone call with Peter, I stormed to Ian’s door and hammered it with a fist. I demanded two days off to see Alex to set things right.

Ian rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb. “That’s not possible. You have an interview, not to mention a concert here. Then two back-to-back shows in Pennsylvania.”

“You can’t do a show without me,” I told him. “That’s just a fact. Cancel those concerts.”

“What’s this all about?”

I looked at him, but I didn’t trust him. Who knew how far the rot spread? Peter had hired Ian, and they could be allied with each other.

I left his room and began packing in a rage. In between fistfuls of clothes, I dialed Emily and left a voice mail instructing her to purchase a plane ticket to L.A.

When Rose found me, luggage and excuse at the ready, she grabbed my shoulder mid-explanation. “The show must go on,” she said stubbornly.

“Are you kidding? This is a big deal! I fucked up bad. I need to see Alex and apologize to him before it’s too late and I hate myself forever.” I closed the snaps on the case, set it on the ground, and headed for the door. “The fans will understand. Peter will get over it. I’ll be back before you know it.” I yanked the handle open. “I’m going to go tell the others.”

Rose followed me to Yumi’s room, talking quickly as I knocked. “This is what I’ve worked my entire life for. I know it sucks, but we have to be dependable. Consistent. Above all, the ultimate professionals. No matter what is happening.” As if our standing was so precarious, like a house of cards, that the smallest disruption would have it topple down. “Think about it, Cass! We are responsible for all of those people out there—the ones who depend on us for jobs. Ian. The entire crew. That’s like, seventy, eighty people.”

Yumi opened the door. I stepped inside without her invitation. “Sure, just come in,” Yumi huffed.

“They’ll still get paid even if we refund.”

“Who’s giving a refund?” Yumi asked, incredulous.

“Okay, fine,” Rose continued. “Think of it this way. What can you do, anyway? If you show up and his parents are there, won’t they hate you?”

“Who would hate you?” Yumi asked.

“Alex,” I said.

“Why would you go running to see the guy who hurt you?” Yumi sounded puzzled. “I mean, Cassy, he broke your arm!”

Rose ignored her and said, “They would feel awkward around you, wonder how to treat you. And consider the security issue at the hospital if you show up; what a huge headache for everyone. Why not leave his family alone and let them be with him while he recovers?”

“It’s a long story,” I said to Yumi, ignoring Rose, “one that I don’t have time to get into right now.”

“I know you didn’t walk into a door or fall down some stairs.”

“Well, no, but Alex is a good person. He didn’t do anything.”

Rose grabbed my hand. She looked into my eyes. She licked her lips determinedly and I felt my stomach stutter. “Please. Think it through.”

There was another knock on the door; Emily waved at the peephole. I yanked it open and she blurted urgently, “I got a flight for ten-thirty. If you leave now, you can just make it.”

I leveled a gaze at Rose. “I’m sorry. You had to run to see Viv when she was sick, right? I have to go see Alex now.”

I HAD THE entire flight to wonder if I’d killed whatever budding romance Rose and I had stone-dead, brushing her off the way that I had. By the time I arrived, accompanied by one of the hospital’s security guards and seeing the Hernandezes in the waiting room, hospital visiting hours were over. This was the family that had had me over for Christmas, had shared their table and meals with me as I was growing up. Had left a stocking for me on their mantel last holiday season. Mrs. Hernandez took one look at me and, her jaw set, turned away. The family closed ranks among the understuffed chairs of the waiting room, angling their backs to me as they huddled.

The only person who didn’t was one I’d met before, only once: Alex’s roommate Joseph, who had a bandage over his collarbone, a bruise spidering out from underneath the white gauze. He acknowledged me with a short nod, his palms tucked under his thighs as he leaned uncomfortably in his chair. I sat down with one seat in between us. “How is he?” I asked.

Joe shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s been in surgery for hours. It doesn’t look good.” His voice held a hint of a tremor.

“He’s held on this long. That’s a good sign, right?”

We were silent for a long moment. Every hospital waiting room feels the same—no matter what change in decor, whether it’s a painting of a vineyard or a farmhouse on the wall, they hold the illusion of calm. I could feel Alex’s mother’s tempest of emotions just by looking at the set of her shoulders; she was keeping as much inside as possible.

“Why are you even talking to me?” Joe said. “I thought you hated me.”

That surprised me. “Hate you? Why would I hate you? I don’t even know you.”

Joe gave a one-shouldered shrug that evidently hurt, because he winced. “Because of the photos.”

Photos? What photos?

Realization dawned. “You? You sold them?” Everything I’d said to Alex crashed over me in a wave. My armpits grew damp and cold as I realized my mistake. “Why?”

“Because. He wouldn’t listen.” He glared at me with the tail end of his eyes. “I knew you weren’t good for him. And I was right. Look at what happened. You messed around on him with St. James. Then you left him out to hang when rumors started. You and I both know he didn’t break your arm, so why didn’t you say so?”

We were interrupted by movement; a doctor appeared from the double doors and made her way toward the Hernandezes. The tension roiling off Alex’s parents gave way to wracking sobs. Joe stood up to join them.

I realized that as much as I wanted to be there, I had more pressing things to do. With one last glance at the family, I left the hospital for my house, where I called Justine and set up a press conference for the next day. “It’s time for this to end,” I said.

29.

Monday

Merry

The truth is, I could have said a lot of things. We were the biggest music act in 2002. We won awards for our second studio album, Prime. We swept the MVAs, had a sold-out world tour, and everything we said was recorded and broadcast.

If I’d opened my mouth and mentioned that a member of our production team had acted inappropriately—more than inappropriately, harmfully—maybe things would be different. But I’d seen what had happened to others who had spoken up. And I just didn’t want to be known as a shrew, because that is what women who talked about these dark things were called.

ON THE DAY of my appointment, I’d waited impatiently for Emily to appear in the lobby, but she was late, walking Cassidy’s dog.