“Actually, it is,” Chris said. “Ice crystals are forming on my screen as I speak.”
“I can assure you that you can trust the discretion of every officer in this room,” Hawthorn said smoothly.
“Up to you, Cady my dear.”
Cady worried at her lip again. “I really, really don’t want to do this,” she said. “Home is the only place I go where I don’t have to think about cameras. Every time I set foot off my property, I’m aware that someone could be taking my picture, or recording me. I have to think about what I’m wearing, doing, saying. Even here in Lancaster. It’s different than before.”
“Because you’re a bigger star now,” Chris interjected. “All the work, the millions the label has invested, is paying off. Just something to keep in mind, in case you were thinking about momentum. That sort of thing. Carry on.”
Conn glared at her. Millions? Millions invested in Cady’s next album?
It was Cady’s turn to look daggers at the phone. “But when I’m in my home, it’s the only place I can really relax. If you put up cameras, that changes the dynamic.”
“They’d be on the perimeter only,” Conn said, striving for reassuring. This wasn’t his forte, negotiating with people he cared about. “Entrances and exits. The woods.”
Cady shook her head. “It closes me down even more, Conn. My world is getting smaller and smaller when I need it to be big. Wide open. I need somewhere I can just be me. Not Maud. This house was supposed to be that place. Cameras turn it into a Maud space.”
He thought about what she said about needing lots of material, space, and time to write her songs. He thought about how small she was, how delicate, how easy it would be to hurt her. “Someone broke into your house. This is the safest thing we can do.”
“No one broke into my house,” she pointed out. “There were no signs of forced entry. Whoever it was had a key. We got the locks changed. I asked Mom to take the key off the hook by her back door. That’s going to narrow our field considerably.”
But not exclude Chris, who had now heard everything, and managed to talk Cady out of installing cameras.
“Trust me, Cady,” Conn said. The words echoed in his head. Trust me. Trust me. Trust me.
Cady looked at him, looked away, then glanced around the table. He was making this too intimate. He knew it, but didn’t care. If making her safe meant exposing how he felt, then he’d do it.
“No cameras. For now,” she said.
Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. They stared at each other for a second, and in that instant, Conn knew what he was going to do. He was going to install security cameras without her consent. He wasn’t trained in the technology, but he knew enough to figure out the basics. A couple of cameras transmitting on a secure wireless network to his laptop. No big deal. Cady didn’t want it, but the thought of someone sneaking in and out of her house made his skin crawl. He knew he was doing exactly what Hawthorn counseled him not to do, going rogue, but there was too much at stake.
Cady was at stake. Her safety, her security, her happiness. He’d probably just made the choice that would cost him her confidence, but better to remain alone than to be with her and lose her. He was used to alone. He was used to not letting the door hit him on the ass on the way out.
“No cameras,” he said, not at all surprised to hear how level his voice was.
“Great,” Chris said. “If we’re done, Cady, I need a few minutes.”
She picked up the phone, switched off the speaker mode, and walked toward the windows, her voice too low for Conn to hear. He pulled out his own cell phone and sent a text to Shane.
Need you to pick up a few things for me. He followed it up with a list. Cameras. Discreet, wireless, secured.
Shane’s reply was almost instantaneous. Want me to get the same setup I got for the garage? Easy to use.
Yes.
It’ll be cheaper online.
I need it ASAP.
I’m on it.
He turned to Hawthorn. Now was the time to tell him about Cesar’s accusation, something that had been circulating about the Block for a long time. But Conn wanted proof, something solid to take to his LT, something that protected his own hide. So he stuck to the subject at hand.
“I don’t trust her manager as far as I can throw him.”
“You don’t really have grounds not to trust him,” Hawthorn said, still focused on his spreadsheets or pie charts or tables.
“Besides the fact that Cady’s thinking about changing her direction in a way that could cost him his percentage of whatever Cady makes when her next album comes out?”
Finger poised over the power button, Hawthorn looked up from his laptop. “Come again?”