Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

NOLAN

I wake to the sound of Maddy fussing and the feel of Amber pressed against me. Her arm is wrapped possessively around my waist, and her breath tickles the hair on my neck. The temptation to remain in this position is obliterated by Maddy's increasingly loud whimpers.

I take a moment to enjoy the cozy feeling, then gently slide out of bed, pick up Maddy, and quietly leave the room, wanting Amber to sleep as long as possible. Maddy doesn't feel warm this morning, but as her bottle heats up, I take her temperature anyway. When the thermometer flashes green, I let out a relieved breath, grab the bottle, and sprawl on the couch with Maddy in my lap.

While she inhales the bottle, I check my phone.

The first thing I see is a calendar invite from Brian.

It says: Annabelle Singer Interview – 12 p.m. – Saturday.

Tomorrow. Fuck.

Amber needs me to do this interview, but that doesn't mean I want to do it.

Not only is the prospect of strangers weighing in on my relationship status abhorrent, but I'm also concerned with what they'll say about my career choices. I live in the real world. And the real world doesn't always accept men as caregivers. From my first babysitting job and my master program to my practicum hours and my position as lead teacher of a class of three-year-olds, I've been the recipient of surprise and/or confusion more times than I can count.

People aren't typically rude, but they are apprehensive as if they can't quite figure out why a man in the prime of his life is choosing to spend his day with children. I can generally win them over with my dedication and obvious competence, but no matter how well I convince them that I'm suited to the job, I can't help but think that they'd like me better if I didn't hold a position that's stereotypically held by women.

Maddy finishes her bottle, and we move to the floor. She's gotten pretty good at sitting up on her own, so I plop her down and sit behind her. She reaches for her favorite toy—a handheld music player that lights up and has a hard outer ring she can chew on—and lands on her stomach. The toy immediately starts playing a jaunty tune that sounds somewhat like the wheels on the bus.

I attempt to switch her to a quieter toy, but prying her fists off her favorite toy isn't easy. Clinging to it with a death grip, she rolls onto her back and blinks up at me. She looks so blissful that I abandon my attempt to switch toys and she starts chewing on it, seemingly utterly content.

I can't blame her. I like these peaceful—but not particularly quiet—moments, too.

About twenty minutes and a dozen toys later, there is a gentle knock at the door. It clicks open and one of Amber's morning security guys pushes a cart of food into the room. He utters a softly spoken good morning and retreats into the hall.

I leave Maddy on the floor and rise to my feet so I can wake Amber. The bedroom door opens before I take a step, and she appears. Her makeup is smeared around her eyes, her hair is tangled, and she has a pillow crease across her cheek.

It's an obvious indication of how gone I am for her because my first thought is that she looks positively gorgeous. She walks across the room and straight into me. Her arms slip around my waist, and she relaxes. It feels amazing—she's soft and warm. She smells less amazing—a mixture of hair product, sweat, and arena grime. I cling to her anyway, pressing my lips against her stiff hair.

"How's Maddy?" she asks into my neck.

"She's better. No fever when she woke up."

"Good." She gives me one more squeeze and drops onto the floor.

"Hey, sweet baby." She nuzzles Maddy's stomach, making her kick her legs and squeal in delight. "Mommy missed you," she whispers just loud enough that I can hear.

"She missed you, too."

"Ha." She rocks back on her heels. "I bet she was perfectly happy with you."

"Amber." I draw her name out.

She doesn't bring it up much, but she hasn't worked through the guilt she has about leaving Maddy so she can perform. I'm not sure there is anything I can say to make it better, and I hate that leaving her daughter for her job makes her feel inadequate.

"I know," she says. "Maddy's fine with me being away."

I wish I knew how to convince her that she isn't ruining Maddy's childhood by bringing her on tour. Kids need a lot from their parents, but they don't require their undivided attention to be happy. And they can learn a lot from watching their parents succeed.

"Are you okay?" I ask carefully.

"Mostly." She shrugs. "I'm pissed at Teddy though." She reaches for my hand and pulls me down next to her. "And I'm worried about the interview," she whispers.

Me too.

She bites her bottom lip. "We only have one chance to spin this story and if we get it wrong…"

"We aren't going to get it wrong," I say with more certainty than I feel. "We—" My phone vibrates from where I left it on the floor and we both glance at it.

Alarm clouds Amber's voice when she says, "Why is Teddy FaceTiming you?"

"He probably wants to check on Maddy."

I swipe to accept, and Teddy's face fills the screen. He's less disheveled than yesterday, but he still looks tired.

"Hey…uh…is this okay?"

"I told you that you could call me," I remind him.

"I know." He scratches the back of his neck. "How is Maddy?"

"She's good. Better." I pan the screen so he can see her. It passes Amber on the way and Teddy squeaks. "Amber. Uh…hey…how's it going?"

"I've been better."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about…everything," he says quietly. "I just wanted to check on Maddy, I'll let you go." He hangs up before either of us can reply.

"That was odd." She rests her cheek on her knees and asks, "What happened yesterday when he stopped by?"

I give her as succinct an explanation as possible.

"So, you and Teddy are going to be…friends?"

"I guess that's the best way to explain it."

She blinks rapidly. "You're serious?"

"Don't you think this'll be easier if we're friends?"

"Yes." She shifts and reaches for my hand. "Teddy could use a friend. I just didn't expect it would be you."

"Why not?"

"He's my ex-boyfriend who outed our relationship to a reporter, and he can be something of an asshole."

She's not wrong. I had all the same thoughts yesterday and they aren't any less true today. "It's going to be easier if we aren't at odds with him and he needs someone to help him become less terrified of his daughter."

She studies me carefully. The scrutiny is so intense that heat starts to creep into my neck. Did I make a mistake? "You're unbelievable. Ninety-nine out of a hundred people would be furious, but you decide to be his friend."

I'm a bit confused. "Is that a problem?"

"No." She shakes her head. "It's the opposite of a problem. It didn't occur to me that he might need help with Maddy. And it definitely didn't occur to me that you'd be willing to be friends with him. It's…how can you be so perfect?"

"I'm not perfect." Not at all.

"You are. You're perfect for me." She points at Maddy. "For us."

"I want this"—I gesture between us—"to work. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure it does."

"I don't even know what to say to that." She leans toward me, her hands frame my face, and her lips press gently into mine. It's a soft kiss, almost careful, and it lights me up, because it's exactly what I crave. It's a promise of more than just attraction and affection—it's also appreciation and comfort. She gives me things I didn't even know I was looking for.

"Thank you," she whispers against my mouth. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." I kiss her again.

Maddy drops a toy on her forehead and cries out.

Amber scoops her up and while she examines Maddy's forehead, a loud knock sounds at the door. A moment later, it swings open to reveal both Brian and Mina.

"Good, you're up," Brian says as he barrels into the room.

"I haven't eaten. I haven't even had coffee yet," Amber warns him.

He taps on his watch. "I can give you five minutes, but you've got a packed day, and we have a lot to discuss so we need to get started."

Amber nods and bounces Maddy on her hip as she moves over to the table. I grab the coffee pot off the cart and pour a cup. I add a bit of cream and hand it to Amber. Then I slice a bagel in half and cover it in a thin layer of cream cheese. I take a bite from one half and pass the other to Amber along with a bowl of fruit.

She snags my hand and squeezes it before picking up the bagel and taking a bite. Maddy tries to snatch it out of Amber's hand, and she lets Maddy gnaw on it for a second before taking another bite for herself. They work out a system where Maddy mangles it, drools on it, and sucks off the layer of cream cheese, and then Amber takes a bite. It's fairly disgusting to watch, but Amber seems happy and so does Maddy, so I keep my opinion to myself.

Unsurprisingly, Mina does not. "That's gross," she says.

Amber shrugs and takes another bite. As she chews, she says, "She came out of my body. I'm pretty sure her spit isn't going to hurt me."

"Maybe not, but a soggy bagel is disgusting." Mina shudders dramatically.

Amber laughs, shrugs again, and keeps eating.

When they finish the bagel, she turns to Brian. "Tell me."

He takes a deep breath and starts talking. "The interview is scheduled for tomorrow. Annabelle and her team are coming here. The hotel is giving them a conference room on the third floor for filming. They wanted some footage of you with Maddy, but I said absolutely not, and they backed off. The press is dying for a comment from us or Teddy about why Teddy was slinking around here yesterday instead of getting ready for his show. I spoke to his manager, and they agreed to release a joint statement later this morning. I have a copy if you want to take a look. Teddy already approved it, but we can make any changes you want before we release it."

He stands up and hands his tablet to Amber. She purses her lips while she reads it. "You don't think we should address the rumors directly?"

"The PR team thinks it's best to focus on Teddy's relationship to Maddy rather than his relationship with you. The interview tomorrow will make it clear you've moved on without forcing you to comment on how you feel about Teddy."

Amber's brow scrunches. "I don't want Maddy to be news."

"You aren't going to be able to avoid it," Brian says bluntly. "If we say that Teddy stopped in Dallas to see his daughter, was disappointed she wasn't at the arena and then came to the hotel because that's where she was, we kill the romance rumors and establish that Teddy interacts with Nolan. It's important that the three of you appear to get along."

"We do get along." She keeps studying the statement. "What do you think?" she asks me.

I'm a bit taken aback by the question. It's not surprising that she values my opinion, but I am surprised by how often she seeks it out. I have every intention of following her lead on anything that pertains to her career. She's the star and she knows more than I'll ever know about being famous. "Seems like a reasonable approach to me."

"You don't think I should double down on the fact that Teddy and I are over?"

"I don't have much experience with this kind of thing, but if this is the approach that the PR team thinks is best, I have no reason to question them. Don't they usually steer you in the right direction?"

"Not always. They pushed me to speak out against Teddy when he cheated. They wanted me to vilify him."

"And you said no?"

"Of course." She picks up her coffee. "I'm better than that."

Her conviction is such a turn on. "Agreed. So…I guess the question is, does the statement they prepared represent you in the way you want it to? Because if it doesn't, you should speak up, just like you did then. I trust you."

Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. "Good question." She tips her head to the side. "The statement is fine. It's just…I'm mad at Teddy. Why do I always have to be the bigger person?"

"You don't have to. You choose to," I remind her.

"Ugh. I know." She takes a drink of her coffee, and then switches her attention to Brian. "Release the statement."

"Excellent." He smiles and takes his tablet back. He turns to me. "What kind of media training have you had?"

"Uhh…nothing formal."

"That's what I figured. Two of the staff from the PR team are flying in this afternoon. They're going to come straight here, and they'll run through the approved list of questions with you and help you formulate your answers. They'll also help you decide what to wear." His fingers fly over his tablet as he speaks. "The general consensus is that you should stick as close to your normal style as possible. Teddy is flashy and you're not, so we want to lean into that. The contrast will be useful in establishing that you aren't a replacement. You're a different sort of man."

"What?" Amber says at the same time I say, "Different sort of man? Wouldn't it be more authentic if I didn't plan my answers or try to utilize my wardrobe as a statement?"

The look on Brian's face makes me feel like a dumbass, but his tone remains reasonable as I sink into the chair next to Amber. "We aren't trying to be authentic. We're trying to convince Amber's fans that the man she's in love with is Teddy's opposite."

In love with. My heart snags on those words. We've haven't called this thing between us love, but I can't allow that to distract me. "I thought we weren't trying to smear Teddy."

"We're not. The public will draw their own conclusions. That's why you need to practice what you'll say."

Amber weaves her fingers through mine. "I'll do most of the talking if you want, and I'll be here while the PR people are here."

"No, you won't. You have the charity luncheon today," Brian replies. "I'll stay here with Nolan, and Mina will go with you."

Amber groans. "Why is that today? Why can't I get a break?"

"Your schedule is clear Sunday through Wednesday," Brian reminds her.

"I know. I'm sorry." She pulls her hand away from me and rests her forehead on it. "It's fine. It's going to be fine." It sounds like she's trying to convince herself.

"Amber," I say and then I wait until she lifts her gaze. "We've got this. I'll be okay here with Brian and the PR team. We'll figure out what I need to wear and what I should say. And then, tomorrow, we'll do the interview, and you'll have your show and then we'll get a break. It's all going to work out."

I must sound convincing because she inhales and presses her lips to mine in a brief kiss.

"You're right," she murmurs against my mouth. She releases me and sighs. "I guess I should take a shower."

"You should. You really should," Mina agrees.

Amber rolls her eyes at Mina. "Why are you even here?" she jokes as she stands up and hands Maddy to me.

"So I can make sure you're at your cleanest?"

"Sure, that's it." Amber kisses Maddy's forehead and then mine before she leaves to shower.

In the normal course of the day, I don't wear makeup. In fact, I can't recall a single instance where I've had a thin sheen of powder on my face. Until now. It feels odd, but not as odd as the fact that I'm about to sit down in front of a camera and talk to a reporter about dating Amber Hope.

Brian, Amber, and I take the elevator to the third floor of our hotel. We follow the hallway to the last door on the left and push it open.

In my experience, conference rooms tend to be plain and functional, but this one has been transformed into the perfect space for an intimate interview. There are multiple cameras, huge lights, and a small couch sitting in front of a single chair. The floor to ceiling windows along the exterior wall allow the bright sunlight and the blue sky to provide a pleasing backdrop.

We're barely through the door when we're greeted by a short man wearing a bow tie and a headset.

"Perfect timing," he says. He shakes Brian's hand and then beams at Amber. "It's an honor to meet you. Is there anything I can get you before we start?"

"I think we're all set," Amber tells him.

He bounces as he says, "I think I speak for the whole crew when I say, we're huge fans. We never get to see anyone except for athletes so we're crazy excited to film an interview with you. You might not know?—"

Brian interrupts, "Could you, maybe, give us a minute?"

The man bobs his head and then backs away slowly.

Brian steps in front of us. "Sorry about that. He's Annabelle's producer and he's a huge fan. Every time I get him on the phone he talks my ear off about how wonderful you are. I promised him some autographed merchandise but apparently that wasn't enough to calm his fervor."

"I'll take some photos with the crew before we go. Maybe you should give him tickets for tonight, too?"

"I tried. They're packing up and heading somewhere as soon as we're done."

Amber nods and shifts a little closer to me. She's been restless all day. It's like she can feel my nerves and is letting them fuel her own.

The door next to us swings open and Annabelle Singer strides into the room. I recognize her instantly from the media training I suffered through yesterday. Her posture is perfect, her hair is styled in a sleek bob, and her smile is wide. She's more than a little intimidating as she swings her gaze around the room and zeroes in on us.

"Ms. Hope. Mr. Byrne. How lovely to meet you," she says briskly as she pivots and moves to where we're standing.

Amber smiles politely. "Ms. Singer. How fortuitous that you were able to join us today."

"I go where the news is," she responds. "I can't believe I've been blessed with the opportunity to share your happy announcement with the world."

She seems earnest and genuine, which is strange, since she basically blackmailed us into this interview. Additionally, she's less intense up close than she appeared when she first entered. She has an aura about her that makes her seem almost…nice?

That can't be right. Unless that is the secret of her success?

The smile vanishes from Amber's face. "After talking with Teddy, we felt it was beneficial to reach out to you."

"Ah, yes, Teddy. He's a dear, is he not? Super distressed by his choices. But he seems determined not to repeat past mistakes." It's unclear which mistakes she is referring to and she changes topics without explaining further. "I have the preapproved list of questions"—she taps her head—"but don't be surprised if I throw in a couple of extras. We want to make sure we cover the whole story, don't we?"

Brian, who has been ignored by Annabelle thus far, interjects to remind us, "You can decline to answer any questions." Then he speaks directly to Annabelle. "We will edit out everything that doesn't meet our approval."

"Obviously." Annabelle's eyes widen like she's astonished by his implication that she would release a story without our express permission. "Don't worry. We're all on the same team here. I want you to be happy with the final product. I'll never get another interview if I develop a reputation for being dishonest."

Apparently, she's fine with blackmail, but she draws the line at deceit .

Brian grumbles under his breath. He's clearly not impressed by her obvious disregard for the fact that we didn't ask to be interviewed. "We're ready when you are," he says.

"Excellent." She claps her hands together. "I want this to feel as natural as possible. More like a conversation than an interview so if you need to take a break or stop, just let me know. The interview is going to get edited so the audience will never know if we pause." She turns to me. "The public is familiar with Amber Hope, but they don't know you, so it's important that you participate as much as possible, yes?"

"Absolutely." Is it wrong that I'd rather console a screaming child than answer questions about myself in front of a camera?

"Fabulous." She seems to have a never-ending supply of exclamations. I can't decide if her enthusiasm makes me more or less committed to nailing this. Probably more.

Annabelle moves away and starts animatedly explaining something to her producer. Another guy comes over to us and gets us hooked up to mics.

Mina shared clips with me this morning of Annabelle making athletes break into tears while being interviewed. I didn't find it particularly helpful at the time, but now, it's a bit of a comfort to remember the looks on their faces. If they survived, I can, too.

Once we're ready, we settle on the small sofa.

Amber blows out a quiet breath, and then she crosses her ankles and angles her legs toward me. She looks stunning. Her mini dress sparkles, her makeup shimmers, and her hair falls in waves to her shoulders while I'm wearing a long-sleeve Henley shirt and pressed chinos that practically scream average guy. I can't shake the feeling that I'm underdressed, and I absolutely abhor that I'm a smidge uncomfortable about the purposeful contrast between Amber and myself.

The media specialist insisted that I need to project an image that I'm a normal guy. The fact that I am a normal guy didn't seem to resonate with her.

In my agitation, I scratch my forehead and my finger comes away coated in foundation. A short woman with spiky hair and clunky shoes darts over to me.

"We'll just give you a quick touch up." She quickly dusts my forehead and cheeks, and then disappears.

Amber reaches out and snags my hand, pulling it against her thigh. She squeezes it a little too tightly as one of the producers shushes everyone.

Annabelle ratchets up her smile and starts talking.

"I'm Annabelle Singer and today I have the distinct pleasure of being joined by Amber Hope and her new boyfriend. Yes, you heard me correctly. Amber Hope. American's sweetheart. Is. In. Love. Who is this mystery man?" She pauses dramatically. "You might be surprised to discover that he has been under our noses for weeks. While everyone has been speculating about the on again, off again relationship between Amber and Teddy, she has settled into domestic bliss with Nolan Byrne.

"You probably haven't heard his name, but you may have spotted him at one of Russell Gage's movie premieres." She leans forward. "You might be asking why he is attending such elite events?" She arches her brow. "The answer is simple, Russell Gage is his father.

"You might also have spotted Nolan Byrne backstage at one of Amber Hope's concerts during her sold-out tour. Once again, you may be confused by this, but that's only because you don't know that he joined her team earlier this year to care for the daughter she shares with Teddy Lance." She turns to me. "Mr. Byrne, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance today."

"Likewise," I respond, feeling a bit ridiculous after that dramatic intro. She made us sound like a reality television show waiting to happen.

"Ms. Hope. I think I speak for most people when I say, I'm so thrilled for you. There is no one who deserves a happily ever after more."

"Awwww, thank you." Amber giggles and launches into the story about the parking lot and her missing keys. She hits just the right balance between humble and cheeky and Annabelle appears enchanted by the story.

"And what did you think after helping Amber that day, Mr. Byrne?"

"Honestly, I assumed I'd never see her again."

Amber and Annabelle chuckle together as if I'm hilarious.

"He didn't know I was going to shamelessly beg him to come on tour with us. But how could I stop myself? Maddy took to him right away. She went from sobbing to happy in a blink and I needed that kind of competence if we were going to make it through so many weeks on the road." Amber leans toward me and presses a kiss to my cheek.

I can't pinpoint what exactly is different about her, but something is. Since we met, I've never witnessed this glossy, almost sanitized version of her, and it makes me anxious.

"It's so sweet that it was your daughter who brought you together," Annabelle says. She seems genuinely charmed, but I can't help worrying that she's also putting on an act. I shift on the seat, starting to sweat under the harsh lights.

Amber grins. "I wasn't looking for a relationship, but right from the beginning, Nolan made me feel…safe. I know that sounds a bit silly, but I could let down my guard and be myself when I was with him. I don't feel that way with very many people."

"I imagine it's quite freeing for someone of your stature to find someone who you're comfortable with," Annabelle says. "And you, Mr. Byrne? Did you immediately jump at the chance to join the hottest tour of the year?"

I aim for an easygoing smile, but my palms are slick, and my mouth is dry. "I told Amber's manager no when he first approached me."

"How did he convince you?"

"I…uh…agreed to come to a pre-tour party. When Amber asked if I'd take the job, I couldn't say no." I have the sudden urge to laugh even though I haven't said anything funny.

"How adorable." Annabelle grins. "Care to share what it's like to be the son of Russell Gage?"

"It's hectic," I respond, unable to withhold a high-pitched laugh this time. "As you probably know, there are a lot of us." I start to ramble. "My father though…he juggles everything—his children, his career, his relationships—as if every single one is his top priority."

"Russell Gage a legend—in more ways than one." Annabelle winks, but it doesn't come across as judgmental. It's obvious she's trying to put me at ease, but it isn't working. I fear that the on-camera version of me is nothing like the real me. "I talked to your father yesterday, and I asked him about you."

"You did?" No one shared that with me. I'm terrified about what he said.

"Yep. He said, ‘Nolan is the most responsible and caring man I know. He has no use for fame and rarely takes advantage of my influence. He prefers to exist in the background.'"

That isn't so bad. She pauses as if she's waiting me to comment. When I say nothing, she adds, "Amber Hope is one of the most popular singers on the planet. If you have no use for fame, how will you navigate a relationship that exists so directly in the public eye?"

I have an answer for this. It's the first question I practiced yesterday, but when I open my mouth, the only thing that comes out is, "I…um…"

My heart starts beating faster.

Amber squeezes my hand and says, "Let's take a short break."

Without waiting for a response, she tugs me to my feet and leads me away from the set. We get to the corner of the room, and she looks behind me. She shakes her head once and then releases my hand so she can clutch my shoulders. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out. You don't have to answer that question. You don't have to answer any questions."

I lick my lips. "That's the most important question she's going to ask. My father isn't wrong, and I don't want to pretend that I'm enamored of your fame or that I seek the spotlight. I support you, fully and completely, but I don't want to shy away from the fact that our relationship would be easier if you weren't a superstar."

A line appears between her brows. "Easier."

"I'm not saying I want easier," I rush to add. "Or that I want you to be anything except what you are because you're spectacular. What I want to say—or maybe what I need to say— is I want to be the man who stands next to you when you need me to, but who stands behind you the rest of the time." I rub my forehead, uncertain if I'm explaining myself properly.

I try again. "I want to be your foundation."

That doesn't sound right either. She's already built a fortress.

"I—" I don't get a chance to finish my sentence because she slides her hands around my neck and presses her lips to mine. It's a kiss full of comfort and reassurance. I don't know how she offers those things with a simple kiss, but she does, and every single time, I'm struck by how insanely bolstering it is.

She eases away and she rests her forehead against mine. "I love you. You don't have to explain yourself to Annabelle. Or to me. Or to anyone."

My world tilts.

She loves me.

It's too soon. It's too much. Except— I feel the same .

Holy shit— I love Amber Hope .

I envelope her in a crushing hug.

"I love you," I murmur against her ear because I don't want anyone to overhear me.

This moment belongs to us.

Only us.

She clings to me as if nothing else matters, as if she agrees with me and that this, us together, is the only thing she requires. When I shift to kiss her again, I feel her smile against my lips. There is nothing that I want more than a private moment, and yet having her tell me she loves me and realizing I feel the same while in this crowded room doesn't feel wrong. How does she manage to take things I'd normally hate and make them perfect?

Brian loudly clears his throat. "We've…uh…got to get back to the interview if we're going to make it to the arena on time."

"One more minute," Amber says against my mouth. She gives me one more swift kiss and then pulls back so there are a few inches between us. "We can end this interview now. They can use the footage they already have. We don't owe anyone an explanation. And we don't owe them a private look into our lives. I don't want you to feel pressured to talk about anything you don't want to. We can be as private as you need us to be."

I appreciate that she doesn't want to make me uncomfortable, but the truth is, she can't be as private as I want her to be. She's too famous. If I want to be with her, I'll have to adjust my expectations. And I'll have to accept that sometimes, I won't be able to be in the background.

"I'm ready to continue the interview." I tip my chin up and straighten my shoulders. "I can handle it."

Amber's bright eyes search my face and I do my best to show my resolve. With her hand clutched in mine, I return to the sofa.

"Can you repeat the question?" I ask once we are settled.

"Absolutely." Annabelle beams at me and asks, "How do you intend to navigate a relationship with the most famous pop star in the world?"

"I plan to remain backstage. Amber is the star, and I'll keep helping to take care of her daughter and supporting her career for as long as she'll have me."

"You don't have career aspirations of your own?" Annabelle asks curiously.

"Until I met Amber, I assumed I'd continue my work as an early childhood professional. I enjoy working with children and helping them discover who they are and what they love. Her current lifestyle doesn't lend itself to that sort of work, so for the time being I'll continue as I have been."

"Does that mean you intend to maintain your role as Maddy's nanny?"

Amber opens her mouth, but I don't require her to step in, so I squeeze her hand lightly. "I will support both Amber and Maddy in any way that I can."

Annabelle's eyes sparkle as she looks directly into a camera. "You heard it here first—Amber Hope and Nolan Byrne are a perfect match."

I assume that we're done, but before I can make a move, she turns back to Amber. "What's next?"

"We finish the tour here in the states and then, shortly after, we head overseas."

"And…are their wedding bells in your future?" Annabelle asks digging deeper.

My stupid heart skips a beat, but Amber chuckles and tsks. "All that I can say is you won't be the first to know."

Annabelle winks. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

I smile politely, and Annabelle looks directly into the camera again.

"The Shimmer tour finishes in Dallas tonight and heads to Nashville tomorrow. If you haven't seen Amber Hope live, you're missing out. I'd tell you to purchase your tickets now, but you probably already know they're sold out, so maybe next year?" She smiles broadly. "I'm Annabelle Singer. Thank you for tuning in. I'll see you on the sidelines."

The lights click off and the crew starts bustling around.

Before Amber and I can stand up, Annabelle leans forward. "You were perfect. Both of you. I'm more than happy to interview you anytime, anywhere, okay? Seriously, if you call me, I'll make myself available."

"I intend to keep a low profile. I meant what I said."

She smirks like it's adorable that I think I can keep a low profile. I'd like to argue with her, but I'm not an idiot.