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Caleb was only the tip of the iceberg. She had to worry about what Sophia might think. She had to face everyone back home.
And what about her fans.
Of course, Rachel would spin this in a positive light, as if it had all been planned to end like this from the start. Hadn’t Caleb’s little sister thought as much? It could easily be brushed off as some big PR stunt. And Emma would get away with a slap on the wrist. That was probably why Rachel had avoided getting the police involved. It was all starting to make sense.
But everyone behind the curtain would know. She’d be looked at differently unless Rachel had an explanation for her disappearance. Right about now, Rachel was Emma’s only hope.
Emma eyed the phone like it was a viper, ready to strike. The poison would enter her bloodstream, and she’d end up writhingon the floor as it took root in her system. She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them, her eye caught on the book she’d been reading. She was nearly done with it. What else could she do when she couldn’t sleep? Reading was the only escape from her racing thoughts.
Taking a deep breath, she snatched the phone and held down on the power button. There was no time like the present. She just had to make the call and pray that Rachel was in a good mood.
As soon as the phone turned on, she pushed the SIM card into its slot. It took only seconds for it to start beeping and buzzing. Notifications burst through the speakers. Chirps, bell trills, and other sounds from various social media apps. Rachel was definitely going to hold this against her for the foreseeable future.
What was it she’d told Caleb the other night? She didn’t do this for the fame. She was a singer because she loved it.
Emma pressed the screen where one of the missed call notifications from Rachel popped up, and it immediately rang through.
“Emma? Thank heavens. What on earth has gotten into you? Where have you been? What were you thinking? I swear that if I didn’t believe your sister knew you were alive and well, I would have sent out the National Guard looking for you. We couldn’t find any information on what happened to you after you flew to Detroit. Are you still there? Please tell me?—”
“You don’t have to trace the call, Rachel. I’m ready to come home. But there’s one condition.”
For the first time in Emma’s memory, Rachel seemed to be speechless.
“I don’t want you sending anyone to my location. You’re going to meet me in Denver. I don’t want any attention drawn to the town I’m staying in. Do you understand?”
“But—”
“No buts. If you can’t guarantee it, then I’m throwing my phone away right now and finding my own way back. But if you agree to my terms, then you can turn this into whatever PR stunt you want. We can do a special concert in Denver and make it bigger than we’ve made anything else. We can announce a new single, too.” That was if Caleb was okay with her using the lyrics he’d written. But she’d deal with that later. Right now, Emma just wanted to get Rachel to swear she’d follow every direction Emma gave her. “Do we have a deal?”
“Emma, sweetheart?—”
“Do we have a deal?” she demanded again.
“Of course, but?—”
“I will fill you in on everything, but I have a few things I have to figure out before I can do that. I have to say some goodbyes, and I have to find a way back to the city.”
Rachel clicked her tongue. “You know we can send a car?—”
“No attention, remember? I don’t want a single soul in this town to know who I am.”
“No one recognized you?”
“Not so far.” Emma raked a hand through her wavy brown hair. It had been a miracle that Sophia hadn’t figured it out. That would likely change as soon as Caleb learned the truth—a possibility that made Emma feel sick to her stomach. “Just make sure that my cards are working and won’t be declined. I’ll get a bus or rent a car or something. And you make sure that there’s a private jet waiting at the Denver airport.”
Her manager went quiet. It wasn’t like her to be so calm. Then again, it was likely only a matter of time before she blew up and really made Emma feel guilty for all of this.
“Well?”
“Well, what, Emma? What do you want me to say?”
“I know you’re mad.”
“Oh, that doesn’t begin to cover it. You don’t even know the strings I had to pull in order to make this work out for us. I had to call in several favors. We had to move your schedule around and pay some extensive fees?—”
“You’ll get a raise. Will that fix things?”
“I—well—I suppose that would put a nice dent in things.”
