Everyone stared at him. After a few seconds of really tense silence, Chris got to his feet. “You have my full attention,” he said, uncharacteristically solemn. “What’s going on?”
Cady tugged Conn’s watch cap off her head and jammed it into her pocket. Her hair crackled into a crazy halo. “You’re what’s going on,” she all but shouted. “Conn knew you were hiding something. You lied to me about where you were!”
“Cady, your throat,” Chris said, looking pained.
Natalie looked around, then said, “Excellent point. I’ll make you some hot water with honey. Requests, you two?”
“I’ll take a vodka rocks,” Cady said.
“Cady,” Chris started.
“Shut up. My nerves have been run through a shredder. I want a vodka rocks. Raspberry Absolut, if you have it. Which you two better not give me shit about. And the Cady juice.”
“Queen Maud wants a vodka rocks, she shall have a vodka rocks,” Natalie said soothingly. “Conn?”
“I’m on duty,” Conn said.
“Water,” Natalie said decisively. “Chris?”
“Whiskey. A double. If Cady’s drinking, so am I.”
Natalie sashayed out, closing the door behind her. “What. Are. You. Doing. Here,” Cady said.
“I came back for what I thought was a booty call. It was a spur of the moment thing I didn’t expect to last all week, but did, because life is unpredictable and glorious and I think I’m in love. Why?”
Conn’s brain got stuck on the idea of flying somewhere for sex, and ground to a halt completely at the idea of Chris in love. He wrenched it back to the task at hand. “When did you come back?”
“Early last week.” That matched with Conn’s timeline of when Chris started acting strangely.
“The next day someone broke into Cady’s house,” Conn said. “The attacks on her website are coming from Lancaster. You’re here…”
“You think I’d come back to Lancaster to drive Cady crazy?” Chris said, switching from serious to seriously pissed off in a split second.
Conn didn’t move. “You fit the profile, and you have the most to lose.”
“The most to lose?”
“If Cady goes her own way and doesn’t drop the pop album.”
Chris blinked. “For someone who knew nothing about the music business a couple of weeks ago, you’ve certainly picked up the lingo,” he said. “Yes, there’s a possibility she’ll make less money if she chooses to work on a more personal album, but I’m in this for the long haul. I believe in Cady, in her voice, her vision, the way she connects with her fans. While I’m very happy to make money managing her career, I’m working with you because you’re an artist I believe in, and am honored to work with,” he said, turning to Cady. He wasn’t pleading his case, just stating fact in simple, clear terms. So that’s what Chris sounded like when he was being sincere, not a manipulative smart ass.
“But you’ve been pushing the label’s album so hard,” she said uncertainly.
“Because that’s what I thought you wanted,” he said patiently. “Remember your career plan? When you started having second thoughts, I casually mentioned to Eric that you might want to go a different direction.”
“Oh God. What did he say?”
“What do you think he said? He fucking ripped my fucking head off,” Chris said. “But that’s my job, to take that flack for you so that when you and Eric actually talk, he’s had a chance to settle down.”
Cady looked abashed. “I know you run interference for me,” she started.
Chris overrode her, his voice escalating. “Yes, we probably won’t make as much money if you go with this album. But stranger things have happened, the label’s willing to take a listen, and to me, the money’s just a way of keeping score. Did you really think I was gaslighting you?”
“You were obviously hiding something,” Cady objected.
“I wanted to keep her for myself, just for a while,” Chris said, sharp and defensive. “I spend my professional life, which is my entire life, looking after other people’s careers, interests, futures, happiness. I’m not complaining. Trust me, I’m not complaining, but … I just … I’ve never met anyone like her before. I wanted to keep it for myself for a while.”
Conn had to agree that Natalie was one of a kind. He relaxed his stance, watching Chris. “I’m sorry, Chris,” Cady said.
“A little privacy. That’s all I wanted. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” He cut Cady a glance. “You really thought I was gaslighting you,” he said, and this time it wasn’t a question.
“Chris, you’re not exactly Mr. Sensitive, and lately you’ve talked an awful lot about marketing, cross promotion, and measures of success.”
“Doing my job, Cady,” Chris said.