Page 65 of Split Decision

We take a seat and wait as she builds suspense and drama with her silence, bouncing excitedly on her toes. "As you all know, one of the biggest fights in boxing is in five weeks."

Oh, hell no. She's not about to say what I think she's going to say.

"And we're adding a special concert for the night before the event. It's for a smaller audience than you're accustomed to playing for, but it's for Vegas royalty, along with all the fighters. This is a benefit concert, so only the exclusive high rollers can afford the tickets.

"It was requested by the nephew of the label's president, so of course, he said yes. When he says yes, we say yes," Katelyn says in her annoying, singsong voice.

I'm convinced she arranged this on purpose. My menacing glare tells her as much when she finally summons the courage to meet my gaze. My eyes are throwing daggers at her, and she knows it.

"Does anyone have a problem with this?" she asks.

"Yeah. I do," Travis says as he stands. "Sound Bar and Fireflies will play, but Andi's not performing."

"She's part of the package deal, Travis. All three acts were specifically requested. Andi has a large following of her own now, and rightfully so. The coverage around your performances together has fueled interest, and people want to see you two perform your songs together," Katelyn counters.

"It's fine, Travis. Thanks for looking out for me, but I can handle it," I interject before a fight erupts.

"Only if you're sure. I won't back down from this, Andi," Travis assures me.

"I'm sure." I smile at him.

Over the past several weeks, Travis has been a better friend than I deserved, given how complicated the situation around me has been for him. He's never asked me for anything in return. He's shown up when I needed someone in my corner and stepped back when I needed space. He's navigated the press attention around our duets with more grace than I would have managed, keeping the narrative from getting away from either of us without making a production out of it.

He knows about Luke. Not all of it—I haven't told him about the arrangement specifically—buthe understands the concept of it. That we are not what the tabloids say we are. That I am working through something that isn't over.

He respects that without needing it explained.

After getting all the details from Katelyn, the group disperses. When the caravan makes the next rest stop, I return to my bus and my solitary respite.

The pressure on the youth center has been quiet for two weeks. I know better than to read that as a resolution. Quiet is repositioning. Something is shifting, and I haven't been able to identify the new angle yet. Bill says the audit documentation is solid, and the board is holding steady. Marin told Brandon that the inquiry is stabilizing.

Marin told Brandon.

I sit with that for a moment.

Everything that gets back to me about the center's status comes through Brandon, and Brandon's information comes through Marin. I'm getting the picture she wants me to have. Not necessarily a false picture. But a carefully framed and curated one.

"Andi?" Travis calls from the front of my bus.

"Back here," I answer.

He appears in the bedroom doorway, reads my faceimmediately, and doesn't ask what's wrong. He just drops into the chair across from the bed and waits.

"Vegas concert," I say.

"Yeah."

"Luke's fight is the night after the concert."

"I know."

We're both quiet for a moment.

"You're thinking about going to see him," Travis says. Not a question.

"I'm thinking about a lot of things."

"You've been thinking about a lot of things since Phoenix was added to the schedule." He folds his arms. "The fight is important to him. You know that."