Cade craned his neck to check the ring for Rosalyn as he rushed toward the steps. But the red silks, dangling from the rig in the center of the ring, remained vacant.
Okay, now he was getting worried.
He hurried toward the backstage area. Maybe Rosalyn had been listening to warm-up music in headphones and hadn’t heard Owen? Or maybe she’d had a wardrobe emergency or couldn’t find her rosin.
Or maybe she was upset because he’d been a jerk. No, she was a professional. It wouldn’t be that.
People in the stands whispered to each other, until the arena seemed abuzz with impatience. Two teens started a food fight with nachos. The din grew as voices raised and the confusion increased.
“Is it over?” A kid shouted loudly. “What about the girl who flies?”
And then—oh no. Trent, eating cotton candy and sitting next to a well-dressed, middle-aged man with silver highlights who could only be from Hollywood. Of all the nights…
Time for damage control.
Cade changed routes and hustled away from backstage and toward Owen. They needed a distraction until he could find Rosalyn. But what? They’d not planned any backup performances. Maybe the magician could go next?
As he rounded a tent pole behind the ring, Cade nearly plowed into someone wearing a dark T-shirt and baggy jeans. “Sorry.” Then he did a double take. Miley. An idea registered. He gasped. “Miley!”
“What? I’m right here.” She cracked a bubble with gum and peered at him, her nose ring glistening under the overhead lights. “Which is more than I can say for Rosalyn. Where is she, anyway?”
“I’m not sure.” Cade winced as the food fight grew larger. Kids shrieked. Parents yelled. He raised his voice over the growing chaos. “I need your help.”
Owen cleared his throat as he stood framed in the spotlight in the center of the ring. “Our aerialist must be detained.” His nervous chuckle filled the mic. “Um, how about those poodles though, huh? Pretty groovy.”
Cade scrubbed his hand down his cheek and shook his head. “Guess I owe you anyway, Mr. Secret Keeper. Want me to go backstage?” Miley looked over her shoulder.
“Actually, no.” Cade gathered all the charm he could muster and channeled it into his smile. “I need you to goonstage.”
Miley blinked. “I’m sorry, it’s so loud in here.” She blew another bubble. Two kids raced past them at full speed, throwing caramel corn into the air like confetti. “You won’t believe what I thought you said.”
“I mean it, Miley.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I need you to do your comedy routine.”
“You’ve lost it. All this circus dust is getting to your brain.” She tapped his forehead with a black-painted nail. “It’s the only explanation.”
Cade shook her a little. “You’re so good! You’re a legit act.”
She wobbled under his hands. “And I legit can’t perform in front of people I know. That’s the whole point of doing shows in New Orleans.”
Frustration clawed at his chest. “I’m not asking you to take a ring to Mordor. Just tell some jokes.”
She visibly swallowed. “I’d rather take the ring.”
They locked eyes in a silent showdown. Caramel corn rained over them as the food fight ensued.
From the stage, Owen paced as the tech operator fought to keep the spotlight on his erratic movements. “Um…maybe if we all call Rosalyn’s name at the same time, she’ll hear us?”
Oh man. This was not the impression they were supposed to be giving of their town.
Cade turned back to Miley. “I’m officially begging.”
“Fine.” She huffed as she pushed away from him. “But only because that”—she jabbed her finger toward the arena—“is getting painful.”
“Bless you.” One of the many knots in his shoulder loosened. “And look on the bright side. At least now I don’t have to keep your secret anymore.”
Miley headed toward the ring, walking backward as she pointed at him. “You owe me.”
He saluted. “Lifetime supply of Skittles.”
