Noah stiffens, jumps up, and praises, "Good work, Blakely."
"Thanks," I say, wondering why he's acting so weird and why Riggs is staring at him like he wants to kill him.
Noah crosses his arms and asks, "Riggs, can we help you with something?"
Riggs demands, "We need to go through Blakely's schedule."
Noah's jaw twitches. He keeps his gaze on Riggs, then slowly grabs his phone out of his pocket. He swipes at the screen and states, "I have a dozen interviews lined up for her to promote her first single, 'Invisibly Broken.'"
"Did you decide on a release date?" Riggs questions.
"Next month," Noah affirms.
My butterflies take off. I'm still shocked this is happening. It's like all my dreams are coming true, and I have to give all the credit to Riggs.
My husband.
I study him grilling Noah, and my heart soars. He's taking care of all the issues I don't want to be bothered with so I can focus on my music. It's perfect.
Noah informs Riggs about the places around the country where he's scheduled me to do interviews or sing, and my head spins. Even with Riggs handling the business side of things, it's overwhelming to me.
Noah states, "She has a radio interview in Atlanta, and I booked her to open a concert two days later. I can stay there with Blakely, and she can meet some of my contacts over there."
Riggs shakes his head, "No. She must be back on the plane immediately after the radio interview. I'll fly her back to Atlanta in time for the concert."
Noah shifts on his feet, declaring, "It's Atlanta. It's known for its music scene. Surely you know this."
Riggs stands his ground, asserting, "Blakely has an important charity event that she has to come to with me."
I groan. "Riggs, you know I hate those events. It's just a bunch of rich people wasting money on their fancy food and $1000 bottles of champagne. They should take that money and donate it to the charity if they care. It's super hypocritical."
Arrogance fills Riggs's face. "Exactly. That's why everything has been donated to this event. Not a penny will be wasted."
"How's that possible?" I ask, not believing it. I've been to too many of these events with my parents. I know how they work and what these people expect.
"Because I've been planning it," he announces.
"Oh. I-I didn't know."
"Now you do. So why don't you ask me what it's for?"
"Okay, I'll bite. What's the charity?"
He briefly studies me, then lowers his voice. "It's for the L.A. Center for Addiction's new Blakely Fox-Madden Wing."
My heart pounds harder. I finally stutter, "A-a wing in my name?"
He nods. "Yes. And I've been planning this charity event for months—four, to be exact. And you can sing that night, as well. Give more people in L.A. a sample of your music. But you don't have to if you don't want to."
"No. Of course I want to," I blurt out.
Noah interjects, "This sounds great, but I can assure you the contacts in Atlanta we could meet with are going to be better than any new fans in L.A."
I raise my chin. "Noah. I'm coming back to attend the event with Riggs. I'll have to meet the people in Atlanta at a different time."
He huffs. "You don't just meet people on a whim, Blakely. They have schedules."
"It's not open for discussion," I state, holding my ground. It's something I've gotten better at executing. I blame Riggs.