Page 75 of Dissonance

But she’s here now, and I’m not going to stop looking.

Chapter Thirty

Thea

Early afternoon sun cuts across my desk and the stack of contracts I’ve been working through since nine. I’m pacing the length of my office, heels somewhere by the sofa, phone wedged between my ear and shoulder as I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“I don’t care what legal said,” I cut in, before the man on the other end finishes his sentence. “If they want her locked into exclusivity, they need to compensate for the brands she already has lined up. Otherwise, we walk.”

Mae appears in the doorway, reads the room in half a second, and mouths, Everything okay?

I nod, holding up a finger. “Then fix it and send it back. I want a revised version before the end of the day.”

I hang up without waiting for the backtracking to start. Inhaling, I close my eyes and count to three before heading to my desk, ready to put out the next fire. Cooper’s team’s chasing final approval for the album rollout, three different press requests are flagged and waiting, and there’s Tyler’s studio request for next week that I haven’t had a chance to look at yet.

“Earth to Thea?” Mae says, snapping her fingers.

“What?”

“I asked if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I’m fine.” I hit send on the email I’d already drafted, moving to the next item on my list without stopping. If I stop, I think. If I think, I spiral. Work is the only thing keeping everything in manageable shape right now.

“Liar.” The voice comes from the doorway, bright and familiar, and has absolutely no business to be standing here right now.

“Knock knock,” Paige adds, hip-checking Olive, the pair laughing as they come inside. A tote bag hangs from Olive’s shoulder, the distinct sound of bottles clanging together with every step.

My head snaps up, any lingering irritation dissolving instantly. “You’re back.”

“Miss me?” Paige drops onto the sofa, all sun-kissed and post-tour energy still radiating from her, hands tucked under her chin as she leans over the back of it.

“Of course, I did. Now, the rest of your bandmates…” I tease.

“Don’t let Eli hear you say that,” Olive says, swinging the bag onto my desk and pulling out a bottle of prosecco. “My poor little puppy dog might cry.”

“Oh, I like where this is going,” Mae says, appearing from nowhere with plastic glasses. Only God knows where she finds these things.

“We’re celebrating,” Paige says, bouncing onto her knees and peering over the back of the sofa, boot-clad feet tucked underneath her. “But first”—she levels me with a look—“tell me you got the PR guys at Yahara to stop being dicks.”

I look at her, this incredible girl who clawed her way to exactly where she wanted to be, who fought for everything she has the same way I fought for what’s mine. And for that, maybe I’ve got a soft spot for the drummer of Sip Station.

Goddamn hormones.

“We’re close,” I say, letting the pride show. “They’re pushing on a few things I’m not happy with, but they’re revising the contract as we speak. If they give me what I want, it’s yours.”

Her grin turns blinding. “I knew I kept you for a reason.”

“More like Maddox kept her for a reason,” Olive sing-songs. “And speaking of Maddox…”

My eyes narrow as Olive glances at her best friend. Paige is doing an absolutely terrible job of trying to hide her excitement, bottom lip caught between her teeth, eyes too bright, barely containing whatever she’s sitting on.

“Oh no,” I say slowly. I love that man, but he can be a bit…hot-headed at times. “What did he do?”

The sound Paige makes is technically a breath, but it’s also a squeal that’s been trapped for too long. Then she lifts her left hand. It’s not subtle, or understated, the giant rock sparkling on her finger one-hundred percent Maddox.

“Oh my—” I push up from my chair, the room tilting a little as I stand up too fast. I grip the edge of my desk for a beat before crossing to her and grabbing her hand. “You’re actually getting married.”

This time, she does squeal, hopping off the sofa and pulling me straight in for a hug.