Page 27 of Cadence
I press my palms hard against my eyes, trying to rub away the other things I see when he’s watching me. How his eyes darken with something I know is not animosity when I nail the rhythm. Or the way his lips twitch when I throw something unexpected into a fill.
Then there’s that look, the one he gets when he’s lost in a song, eyebrows pulling just slightly, head tilting like he’s hearing something no one else can.
I hate that I’ve noticed. Hate that I see a musician who actually cares.
And his voice… When he’s not barking, when it drops into that low, rough tone while he’s talking with Beau or Eli…It hooks me, drawing me in, living in my fucking head.
“Paige?”
I jump, my hands tearing away from my face, heat crawling up my neck as Thea steps into view. Her shape blurs at first, then sharpens as my eyes adjust, focusing on her slick dark hair pulled into a bun, the black-rimmed glasses that make her green eyes look too big and perceptive, her crisp white blazer that whispersindustrywithout saying a word.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” I blurt out, ducking down and fumbling with my bag and grabbing my car keys, my fingers stiffly curling around the metal. “Just… Long day.”
Thea hums, not buying it for a second. Her eyes flick to the studio door, then back to me.
“He’s a lot, isn’t he?” There’s sympathy in her tone, but not pity. Just the kind of knowing that only comes from working with Maddox Knox. “Prickly might be putting it nicely.”
“It’s definitely not the word I’d use,” I say, squeezing the key fob harder in my palm.
She doesn’t laugh or nod, just studies me quietly for a moment, then says, “Whatever problem he has with you…it isn’t personal.”
Trying not to roll my eyes, I laugh dryly. “You sure? Because the last ten minutes sure as hell felt personal.”
Thea’s expression softens. “I’ve known that man since I started out as their manager nearly ten years ago, and I can tell you, he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met.” She shifts her briefcase to her other arm, her lips pressing tight. “That being said, if this tension with Maddox becomes too much, please let me know. Remember, I’m your manager too, not just the band’s. Your best interest is my number one concern.” She lets the sentence hang between us. “But I’d prefer to give you both that space to sort it out yourself.”
I let out a breath. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Gentle and reassuring, she places a hand on my arm. “But for what it’s worth? I think you being here is the best thing that’s happened to this band in a long time. I haven’t heard them play like that in months.”
“Thanks.” I smile, the compliment doing more than I bet she intended.
“Still…” She continues, a hint of recognition shining in her eyes. “I can imagine it’s been hard…keeping all of it separate. Especially with a name like yours.”
My spine straightens, confusion mixing with dread as I blink at her. “You know.”
Thea tilts her head, her perfect eyebrows lifting. “You signed the contract under your legal name. Kind of hard not to miss.”
“You didn’t say anything,” I breathe. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t,” she says simply. “Figured you had your reasons. Besides, I might understand how you feel more than you’d think.” I frown, and she chuckles, straightening her glasses. “When I started managing talent, it was under my brother’s company. Safe to say, there were people who didn’t like Spencer’s twenty-five-year-old sister being in a higher position than them.”
A quiet understanding settles between us. She gets it.
“And for the record,” she says finally. “I’m not in the business of outing people. You want to keep your identity to yourself, then I’ll work hard to make sure that happens.”
Giving my arm a small squeeze, she heads toward the studio door. I adjust the strap on my bag and push off the wall, heading for the parking lot, when she calls my name. I stop, glancing over my shoulder.
She stands at the doorway, a softness I haven’t seen from Thea before crossing her face, her lips twitching into the barest smile. “Just give him a chance. He doesn’t let people close. Not anymore. Not unless they bleed for it.”
I want to scoff, tell her she’s wrong, say I’d never want to get close to someone like that. But even as I think that, and as much as it might be easier to walk away from him, leave him on his ass to fail, this traitorous part of me already wants to try.
She disappears inside, leaving her words to ache like a bruise beneath my ribs. I turn away, stepping into the LA sun outside, letting the warmth soothe my stiff muscles.
It should help, but it doesn’t, because Thea’s words are on a loop. I want to believe her, believe that there’s something underneath all those razor-sharp edges of Maddox. But it’s hard when every time he looks at me, it’s like I’m the enemy, like he’s marking a target on my back that no one else can see. And I don’t know if I have the strength to keep fighting it.
The walk to my car feels longer than it should, my chest still simmering with a hollow kind of frustration, even more now after talking to Thea. Maddox is complicated. I knew that. The brooding rock star stereotype was just the surface. What’s underneath? I think that might be messier. Only, I’ll never know because he’s keeping me at a distance.
