Page 134 of Perfect Satisfaction

We’ve been back from Mainefor about a week when an incoming text causes Sula to pale. While I unpack takeout in the kitchen, she asks, “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Is there a day either of us isn’t working?”

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s going on tomorrow?”

She looks here, there, everywhere but at me. “It’s time to tell you who B is.”

I choke on air. Even as forthcoming as she’s been about the positive influence the mysterious “B” has had in her life, she’s been tight-lipped about who the individual is.

Finally, she hands over her phone.

I reach for it hesitantly.

B:Get your ass and your hubby’s backstage tomorrow night. Becks and I will be singing the new duet. Tell your man he can have a five-minute interview. No arguments if you know what’s good for you. Don’t make us fly to New York en masse afterward. By us, I mean both tour groups, Dani, and the kids.

Your choice.

Love you, kid.

I blink at the text repeatedly. “Is that... Brendan Blake?”

“Yes.”

“Is he kidding?”

“No.”

“You do realize the concert is in Dallas.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Which means we need to find transport to Dallas.”

Sula shakes her head. She opens her mouth, but another text comes through, vibrating the phone in my hand.

B:PS—Plane. Teterboro. 1 PM. Hey, kid? Code West 1. Before tomorrow, if you please.

Sula pales reading the last part over my shoulder. Quickly she yanks the phone out of my hand and types something before waiting for a reply. When she gets it, her face is resolute. Then, she asks an unusual question, “Would you like to join me in my office?”

I’d just poured myself a drink after a bitch of a day at StellaNova. I lift the glass of bourbon. “Am I going to need this?”

“Probably? Actually, yes. I’d say so.” Sula bites down on her lip. Her eyes are wide as saucers. Anxiety is pouring off of her.

I lift the bottle. “Do you need one?”

She debates for half a second before nodding.

I grab a second glass. “Why don’t we just take the bottle?”

“Yes. Let’s do that.”

Her ready agreement has my mind wandering in a million directions and my stomach cramping. Still, I follow her down the hall to her suite. The first thing I see in her office is a wall of photos.