So did his overflowing plate of responsibility. Cade held up one hand, imitating his father in a press conference. “Right now, I’m focused on getting through Magnolia Days and then my camp?—”
Oops. They couldn’t know about the campaign. No one knew the position was about to be open.
“Your what?” Owen asked.
Cade pointed to the water on the horizon. “Wow, what was that?”
Shockingly enough, all three of them actually looked.
Cade cracked his neck and took a deep breath. His game was slipping, on all fronts—and too much was at stake. Being friends with Rosalyn was one thing, but the flirty nature of said friendship should stop. People were getting the wrong impression.
Most of all, him.
Cade carefully schooled his features into a puzzled expression as the guys turned back. “Must’ve been an illusion.”
Sort of like the idea of a future with him and Rosalyn.
eight
Surely she had enough money for a veggie omelet.
Rosalyn pulled the sleeves of her cropped hoodie down over her fingers as she traversed the sidewalk leading away from the studio. The morning had grown unseasonably mild with the threat of rain, but Magnolia Blossom was only a few blocks from Lettie’s. Hopefully she’d make it before the inevitable downpour hit.
Her shoes scuffed the sidewalk as she strolled. In a million years, she’d never have imagined needing to be paidbeforean event. But she couldn’t ask for an advance without raising suspicion. She was supposed to be rich.
And she was, once upon a time.
The wind blew a light mist into Rosalyn’s face, whipping at her high ponytail as she picked up her pace. Her stomach growled. What were the odds that Magnolia Blossom would be having a breakfast sale?
A biker wearing a helmet and knee pads coasted by, and she slowed to draw in the deep aroma of the knockout roses blooming between The Spin Shop and Second Story.
She’d heard a scripture on a social media reel recently—something about the flowers being clothed with no effort of their own? Sounded nice. If God cared about birds and flowers having their needs met, maybe He cared about hers too?
Then again, the flowers hadn’t made stupid decisions to put themselves in need in the first place. Somehow she’d gone from being a straight-A student to the most naive person on the planet.
Though apparently in her father’s eyes, she was still a superstar. She’d had coffee—well, tea—with him early this morning before he went to the office, and he’d expressed the same sentiment her mother had about looking forward to the circus and seeing her perform. About being proud of her.
If he only knew.
Rosalyn swallowed, shoved the thought aside as she nodded at a passing jogger. She’d had a productive morning on the silks at Lettie’s, and now the rest of the day stretched before her. If Cade wasn’t still acting strange, maybe they could finish more Magnolia Days prep. Get back their rhythm after that cryptic comment about his seeing her perform.
Rosalyn’s phone buzzed from the deep pocket of her yoga pants as the first raindrop hit her scalp. Her chest tightened as she looked at the screen.
He wasn’t going to stop calling.
She slowed to a stop, standing off the sidewalk by Magnolia Blossom. If she kept putting it off, he’d know something was up. She tapped the Accept button and cleared her throat. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Blaine’s warm voice filled her ear. “Finally. You’ve been impossible to reach, dollface.”
She hated that nickname. “Hey, yeah. I’ve been settling in.”
“How long could it possibly take to settle in such a one-hick town?” Blaine laughed, the sound casting images in her mind of dark sunglasses and neon lights, bourbon and expensive cologne. “What’s the name of that place again? I can’t remember what you said.”
She hadn’t said. When she signed with Blaine years ago, she was coming off a group act based in Nashville. He’d never needed to know where she grew up.
And while he could find out if he tried, no reason to make it easy. Or riskothersfinding out as well. After his lie, she couldn’t trust him not to give the wrong people the wrong info.
Rosalyn glanced at the clouds piling overhead. “I was about to get in the shower.” The lie burned her tongue. But how many lies had Blaine told her? “Can I check in with you later?”
