I wind my way into the kitchen, fielding congratulations with every step, and order water from the bartender.
A man already at the bar turns to take me in. “Congratulations, Annie.”
“Zeke,” I say in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
The exec responsible for Tyler’s big break leans in to air kiss both my cheeks.
“How could I miss celebrating my favorite talent?” he says when he pulls back. “I’ve barely seen Tyler at the label the past two weeks. I was starting to wonder if getting married meant we’d never see him again.”
Zeke’s always been out to control Tyler. Now that he’s a star in his own right, Tyler’s bought himself some breathing room, allowing him to record with my dad and in New York. Returning to LA this past month was a compromise.
“If you don’t see him again, it’ll be your fault, not mine. He’s drowning in enough merch to sink a warship.”
“There’s more coming.”
“There better not be. He’s been working nonstop. It’s going to be busy with the tour, and that was before he and Dad started on…” I trail off as I realize my mistake, but Zeke’s hand tightens on his drink.
“Working on what?”
“Nothing.”
He tosses back the last of his drink, eyes narrowing on me. “There are rumors swirling about a shake-up in the industry. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Dammit.
I force a bland smile. “I do eight shows a week on Broadway. I can barely keep up with my own job.”
* * *
I can’t find Tyler.
I’ve been telling myself everything will be fine after my conversation with Zeke, but the nerves won’t go away.
At first, I was drawn into conversations with friends and strangers as Beck introduced me around, deciding I should screen-test for his show. Now I wander through the house, looking for the bathroom.
One door I find is closed with a light under it. There must be another on this floor.
On the other side of the kitchen and down a hall, I spot a second closed door. A yapping at my feet has me looking down to find Ernie, who paws at the door.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, bending to pat him, hoping his smooth fur will ease the knot in my stomach. It doesn’t. “Where’s Beck?”
He trots off with a sigh, and I straighten, reaching for the handle and turning it slowly.
I pull it open to reveal a surprisingly occupied coat closet.
“Tyler?!”
“Shut the door.” He reaches past me to do it for me, pulling me into the closet with him and drowning us in darkness except for the light from his phone screen.
He’s hunched so his head doesn’t hit the bar in the middle, and I have to duck a little in my heels too.
“Wait for it,” he says, his face still handsome in the ghostly light.
Then the dog is back, scratching at the door.
My lips twitch. “You’re hiding from Ernie?”
“Not hiding. Avoiding.” But Tyler smiles too, and the tightness in my stomach eases. I can’t help laughing, and he leans in, resting his forehead against mine. “It’s not that funny.”