Page 40 of Rush

She gives me a knowing look. “Well, your little dalliance with that love rat probably helped.”

Alex.

“You...know Alex?”

“Not personally,” she shrugs, “but enough. Serial womanizer, sub-par actor—always nominated, never winning. Handsome as hell but all ego. I mean, from the outside looking in.”

I’m momentarily stunned. To me, Alex is magnetic, charismatic. Sure, he loves the spotlight—but he is an actor. It came with the territory, didn’t it? Still, I find myself bristling protectively over the version of Alex I knew.

Or maybe that was just another role he played.

“Oh shit,” Ava quickly says, reading the conflict on my face. “Sorry. Sometimes my mouth runs faster than my brain. Anyway, enough about tragic exes—what do you like to do for fun, aside from hot actors?”

“Fun?” I laugh, easing up. “Drink, dance, eat.”

“You travel much? Any hobbies?”

“Travel? Not really,” I say, a bit sheepishly. “I mean, I recently went to Sweden for the first time.” Memories of Alex sweep through me in a hot flash before fading into a dull ache. “I would’ve loved to do more, but when Mom got sick and then passed…” I trail off, the words heavy. “Life kind of got ahead of me.”

Ava gently grips my shoulders, eyes sparkling with determination. “Girl, now’s your time. Enjoy yourself, break some hearts, ride the high of success. When you’re at the top, the whole world’s yours. We’re going to have a blast.” She grins, wickedly. “And maybe when we go international, I’ll tuck you into my suitcase—pop that travel cherry.”

I laugh, warmth bubbling in my chest, lighter now. It feels like the beginning of a new friendship with someone special.

I don’t knowhow Mark manages it. Between daily rehearsals, stage costume fittings, and promo photoshoots, he squeezes in a radio interview withThe Manhattan Wave.

Exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Before we go live, Kylie’s at the producer’s side, running through my list of off-limit topics like a seasoned pro.

No questions about my father.

No personal questions.

And under no circumstances are Alex or Madison to be mentioned—or even hinted at.

I steal a glance at her, silently grateful, as they fit me up with headphones and seat me in front of the mic. The host shoots her a look—slightly annoyed but eager to get the segment rolling.

“Yo, music lovers, this is your boy Chad Baker, and you’re listening toThe Manhattan Wave—your daily dose of what’s hot on the charts. We’re in for a real treat today. In the studio with me is someone who shot into the stratosphere like a tiny little pocket rocket. I think that’s what they call it in Australia, right?” He chuckles. “That’s right folks—we’ve got the one, the only, Miss Elena Montgomery!”

“Thanks Chad. And thank you, everyone, for having me.”

“A woman on the rise! Australia’s darling turned America’s sweetheart. Congratulations on an absolutely stunning U.S. debut. Talk me through where you’re at right now.”

“Gosh, cloud nine.” I grin. “It feels like a dream—please, no one pinch me.”

“Oh, I bet. And that accent—so charming! But you were born in New York, right?”

“Yeah, born here, raised in Australia.”

“What was life like down under?”

“Amazing. We lived by the beach—super laid-back. Well…except for the spiders. They’re huge.”

We banter a bit, swapping fun facts about Australia before easing into album details—favorite tracks, inspirations, stories behind the songs. The conversation flows easily, my nerves settling as the rhythm of the interview takes over.

Then Chad arches a brow, his tone shifting ever-so-slightly. “You catch any movies lately, Elena? What do you think ofThe Kingmaker? Have you seen it?”

Fuck.