Chapter 5

FIVE

AMBER

I 'm sitting on the floor, guitar in my lap, playing the same chords over and over as I try to decide if I like the melody when Mina sails into the playroom. Maddy's next to me, lying on her stomach and chewing on one of her brand-new teething rings.

"You want the bad news or the annoying news?" she asks, chomping on her gum.

Why can't she have good news? Annoying and bad don't even seem that different. "Annoying."

She blows a bubble and sucks it back into her mouth. "Teddy was videotaped last night with someone. At the right angle, in the dim light, it could be you."

"It wasn't me." I sigh as my fingers switch to a familiar melody. It doesn't matter what I say or do—somehow there's always a story about me and Teddy floating around. "Show me."

"Amber," she says.

" Mina ," I reply.

She blows another huge bubble, and I sigh again. We both know what'll happen if I look. I'll start reading the comments, and within minutes, I'll become a wee bit obsessed with what people are saying. I'll waste a couple hours focused on a narrative I can't control, and then I'll waste a couple more hours trying to convince myself I don't care.

"The team is handling it. Brian's on the phone with Teddy's manager right now finding out who she is. He's going to ask them to identify her," she explains. "Since it isn't you in the video, you don't need to worry about it, but since Teddy has become fond of apologizing to you, I don't want you to be blindsided when he asks forgiveness for letting the world think he'd gotten back with you."

My shoulders sag. "Don't show me."

She pops her gum, three times in rapid fire. "I won't."

"But keep me updated if it gets worse."

"I will."

Maddy rolls onto her back, a gummy smile lighting up her face, showcasing the two teeth that are pushing through her gums. It hits me for the thousandth time how entirely innocent she is; she has no idea how much drama surrounds her. How long can I protect her? And what am I going to do when she's old enough to hear the rumors about her parents?

Mina snaps her fingers a couple times. "Stop worrying. Maddy is fine. You're fine. Everything is going to be fine."

I bite my lip. "Fine. I know."

"You're Amber Hope," she reminds me. "There's nothing you can't handle."

Especially if I don't venture onto my socials or take to the internet. "You're right. I'm good." I nod and let myself play for a second. "Give me the bad news."

"Nolan refused," she says with a wince.

I stop strumming. "Refused?" It hadn't occurred to me that he might not take the job, especially after Brian discovered he'd recently been fired. "Why did he refuse?"

"He says he doesn't want to." She shrugs and starts popping her gum again. "We're going to give him a few days to think about it."

I don't want to give him a few days. I don't have a few days. Rehearsals start in earnest on Monday, and if he doesn't agree, I'll have no one to take care of Maddy while I'm working. I mean, obviously Mina can help, and so can Brian, but they have a million other things to do. Taking care of my child is not in their job description.

Nolan can't say no. He can't.

Maddy liked him. And he was so good with her.

I set my guitar aside and rub Maddy's back while I try to think of what he might want. "Double his salary."

Mina blows a bubble, sinks onto the couch, and tucks her feet underneath her. "Brian made it clear that the salary is negotiable. He didn't seem impressed, so I made it clear that everything else is negotiable. That didn't seem to sway him, either."

How unexpected. What do I have to offer him other than a boatload of money? I'm still baffled that he walked away with nothing but a thank you after he helped me.

I wield a significant amount of power in the music industry, but he didn't seem like the type who'd be interested in a record deal or adjacent fame. Nor did he seem particularly impressed that I'm one of the most popular pop stars ever. "Maybe I should approach him directly."

"Absolutely not," Brian says from the doorway.

"She's my daughter." I'm good at delegating when it comes to my career, but not when it comes to Maddy. She's my responsibility. Not Mina's. Not Brian's. Mine.

"I know." He smiles. "And I know you hate letting me handle this. But we shouldn't show up at his house again. I think our best option is to send him the offer and see how he responds. Sometimes negotiations take patience."

I tip my head back and groan. Waiting is the worst, and time is a luxury I don't have. "It isn't a negotiation if he simply refuses." Unless we know why he said no, we can't offer him what he needs in order to change his mind. There are too many variables that could be affecting his decision, and my instincts are telling me that talking to him face-to-face is a requirement to earn his agreement. "Maybe we could set up a meeting somewhere."

Brian grimaces and shakes his head. "You can't meet up with a random guy in public. Imagine what'll happen when someone sees you."

Hell. He's right. "Maybe we could invite him over here for lunch or dinner or something? I could woo him."

"Woo." Mina snorts. I throw one of Maddy's socks at her, but she just rolls her eyes.

Brian ignores us and says, "I'm not sure he'd come, but if he did, it'd give you a chance to make a pitch. He certainly wasn't swayed by us."

I nod eagerly. I nearly always get what I want. Surely, I can convince Nolan Byrne that agreeing to take care of Maddy while I'm on tour would be the soundest decision of his life.

"What if we make it a pre-tour celebration? We can invite the band, the dancers, and the rest of the team. Meeting everyone will help convince him, right?"

My tour entourage is huge. Makeup, hair, wardrobe, and security. Plus the band. And the dancers. Most everyone has been with me for years, and they're like family at this point. If we can show Nolan what it's like when we're together, he'll be so impressed by our camaraderie that he won't be able to say no. After an extended discussion, Brian agrees it's worth a try.

Mina works her magic, and on Thursday afternoon, my house is full of people. The sliding doors are open so everyone can flow freely in and out of the backyard. Rodney, my drummer, is manning the grill. A couple of people are splashing in the pool. Others are lounging on the chaises in the shade while they sip drinks and munch on catered snacks. Low music—not mine—provides a background track to the chatter. It's relaxed and fun—and it's making me stressed.

What if he isn't impressed?

Nothing about our initial interaction suggests he will be.

I'm perched on the edge of the huge sectional in my living room, with Maddy sitting against the cushions. My hands hover nearby to keep her from tumbling to the floor, but the sofa is deep and cushy, so there isn't much risk. It's the first time she's been around this many people, and her wide eyes make me think that she either likes the noise, or the constant motion—or both. Either way, she's been much happier now that I know she always needs something to chew on.

Everyone is here. Everyone except for Nolan Byrne.

He told Mina he'd come, but he hasn't arrived yet. Where is he?

Every minute that passes ratchets my stress a little bit higher. I've become familiar with the emotional roller coaster that is parenting, so I ought to be handling this better. I shift and tell myself to chill out.

It doesn't work. What am I going to do if he doesn't agree?

I'll be back at square one.

Square one is unacceptable, because I've reached the point where no one else is going to satisfy me. No matter the qualifications of another candidate, I'll compare them to the picture I have in my head of Nolan holding Maddy while she chews on his knuckle.

I know I'm being unrealistic, but I can't help it.

I hand Maddy a wafer as I absentmindedly listen to the conversation swirling around me. I should be joining in, but my brain is too focused on waiting for Nolan to arrive.

It feels like a decade has passed when Mina finally appears with him trailing closely behind, but it's probably been three minutes.

She says something over her shoulder, and his lips twitch. He's wearing another button-down shirt—this one blue-checkered—and a pair of navy slacks. The professional vibe works for him, and somehow he doesn't look out of place, even though he's the only one—other than Brian—who's dressed like he's heading to a day at the office.

When they get close, determination straightens my spine and I smile when we make eye contact. He offers one in return, and for no good reason, a rush of doubt snakes through me.

I've been on stage and in front of cameras since I was a teenager. I performed before a crowd of fifty thousand the day after Teddy cheated on me, and, just hours after my pregnancy was revealed to the world, I sang live on morning television. I'm unshakeable. Steely.

I try to channel that version of myself.

"Nolan," I greet him, and then start rapidly clapping my hands. It's more than a little odd and not at all charming. I should stop. Why am I not stopping?

Mina stares at me like I've lost my mind.

Operation Adulting: slight failure.

Thankfully, Maddy sees me clapping and tries to join in, saving me from doing anything else absurd. She doesn't manage to clap—her hands just mash together. Nolan smiles at her and leans in close, his hands coming together in a gentle, almost silent clap.

His attention makes her face light up, and she reaches for him.

"Thank you so much for coming," I say in a rush.

He barely spares me a glance as he sinks onto the sofa next to Maddy. "Your assistant here is terribly persistent. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

It's hard to tell if he's irritated or amused. Why can't I read him? Maybe because he doesn't seem to want anything from me.

Mina slips away with a pointed look that could mean literally anything. I don't waste time trying to decipher it. "Oh…well…everyone likes a party, right?"

He glances around. "It sure seems like it."

Maddy leans forward to grab the wafer that fell out of her hand when she was trying to clap. We both reach out to steady her. Our hands accidentally meet, fingers briefly brushing, before he shifts direction and reaches down to grab the wafer. He presents it to Maddy like it's a rare delicacy.

She swipes it up and shoves it into her mouth.

An awkward silence descends.

It's like we're back in the parking lot—there are a million things I want to say, but none of them come out of my mouth. What is it about him that makes me so tongue-tied?

Maybe it's his easy demeanor. Or his obvious competence with children. Or the way his eyes crinkle when his dimple starts to appear on his left cheek.

I lose track of my goal as I stare at him. His eye color is clear now that the sun isn't attempting to interfere—they're light brown with flecks of green, just like I thought. A sound from the pool startles me back to reality, and I realize I still haven't tried to convince him to work for me.

I open my mouth, and words start spewing out. "Mina probably told you that this is a kickoff—a pre-celebration for the tour. I can introduce you to everyone at some point, but for now, I thought it might be helpful for you to see what it's like on the road. We've been preparing for weeks, but we haven't been together as a group in well over a year so it's a bit crazy." I bite my lip. "Honestly, this is pretty much how it is on the road, too. Crazy, I mean."

If he hates crowds and chaos, it'd be best if he says so now.

"It's nice that you all get along. I doubt that's always the case."

What does that mean? Did he expect me to be difficult? Does he think I'm a diva?

"Maddy likes you," I blurt, leaving my tentative rambling in the dust. "Tours are grueling, and I need her to be happy. What will it take for you to agree to join us?"

His brows draw together, and he blinks. "You don't even know me."

Technically, he's right, but I know what I need to know in order to offer him this job.

"You have a master's degree in early childhood education. You're a licensed childcare professional. You correctly identified why Maddy was crying and got her to stop almost immediately. And then…when you realized who I was, you treated me like a person, not a celebrity." He probably has no idea how important that is to me.

His lips turn up. "Full disclosure: I knew who you were before I stopped."

"All that tells me is you could have pulled out your phone, recorded my temper tantrum, and sold the footage to the highest bidder. Video like that could make you a fortune."

He rears back against the arm of the couch. "I would never."

"Exactly. That's why I know I can trust you." It's probably foolish for me to trust someone so quickly, but my instincts are solid. The only person I've ever trusted who I shouldn't have was Teddy, and since I was in love with him, I try not to blame myself too much.

Maddy starts to fuss now that all that's left of her wafer is sticky mush on her fingers. Fortunately, I've already figured out that she hates having dirty fingers, so I don't have to rely on Nolan to decipher her tears. "I need to grab a wipe. Will you watch her for a second?"

I stand up before he can decline and dart across the room to the kitchen.

Mina raises her brow from where she's leaning against the sink. "So?"

"Have you been standing here watching us the whole time?"

She shrugs. "Maybe."

"Then you already know it isn't going that well. I'm being…awkward, and he hasn't said yes. Or no. I need to get a wipe so I can clean off Maddy's hands." I bite my lip. "I think I might have miscalculated when I decided to invite him to a party."

"Because he doesn't like parties?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Because he might not like me . "Do you think I should play up the Maddy angle more? He seems to like kids, right?"

It isn't ideal to rely on my daughter to convince him, but if that's what it takes, I'll do it. Mina looks behind me, presses her lips together, and shakes her head. "I'm not sure that'll help. Your plans may be backfiring in more ways than one." She gestures behind me.

I spin around and— oh, no .

Maddy has her grubby, mush-covered hand on Nolan's cheek. He's the one who put his face close enough, but sticky baby fingers are not going to encourage him to become her nanny. The way those wafers turn to paste makes my skin crawl. I grab the wipes and rush across the room. "I'm so sorry. I got distracted."

"It's no problem," he responds as I lean over him and concentrate on wiping Maddy's fingers one at a time. When her hand is clean, I take a fresh wipe and use it on Nolan's cheek.

I'm so close I can see his individual eyelashes, and it doesn't occur to me that I'm stroking his smoothly shaven skin until Bruno, who does my hair, shouts from across the room, "I'm pretty sure his cheek is clean."

I stumble backward, almost landing on my ass, before I catch my balance. "Maddy coated him in wafer—I was just trying to get it off," I retort a touch too defensively.

Bruno chuckles. " Sure you were." He moves closer and drops onto the sectional next to Nolan. Then he raises his pierced eyebrow at me and says, "You going to introduce us?"

Bruno has blue-tipped hair and dark eyes, and today he's wearing a one-piece blue jumper. It's a bold look that completely works for him. He already knows who Nolan is—I spilled way too many details when he did my highlights yesterday. Unless Nolan enjoys in-depth conversations about styling products, or wants suggestions on what hair color would best accent his facial structure, Bruno isn't going to help convince Nolan to become Maddy's nanny.

Operation Secure Childcare: not looking good.

"Um…yeah…sure. This is Bruno. He's a master with hair." I wince and glance at Nolan. "And Nolan. He's…uh…good with kids." As soon as I say the words, I want to yank them back. He's good with kids. He's a master with hair. What is wrong with me?

Thankfully, they just laugh and shake hands. They chat for a couple of minutes, but I'm hardly paying attention as Bruno tries to convince Nolan that pink tips would enhance his vibe. I'm too busy worrying that I ruined my chance.

Nolan is no closer to agreeing to join us on tour than he was when he arrived, and every time I open my mouth, something awkward or unhelpful comes out.

When Bruno finally drifts away, I've worked myself into such a state that the only option is to apologize. "I'm sorry if Mina harassed you into coming today. I've been a bit overzealous in my desire to convince you to take the job, and I think that might have rubbed off on her." I hesitate—aware I should stop now that I've apologized but unable to resist continuing. "It's just that every book I pick up says babies appreciate routine and structure. I can't offer routine. I'm worried that touring is going to be overwhelming for Maddy, and I want to make it as smooth as possible for her so I can continue to do what I love. I have no chance of making it work unless I have help. Our meeting felt serendipitous, and you were perfect. My instincts keep insisting that I try to persuade you to change your mind. I need you."

I squeeze my eyes shut.

That last part might have been too much, making me sound desperate.

He stays silent, and I crack open my eyes in time to see him offer his thumb to Maddy. She leans forward and grabs ahold of it like it's the greatest toy she's ever seen.

"Thirty weeks is a long time," he finally says.

"It is. I know it is, but I'll do whatever I can to make it worth it for you." I pause, and then offer, "It doesn't have to end when the tour is over. I'll keep you on as long as you want."

"It's not just the time. I've never worked as a nanny."

"You're overqualified. I get that taking care of one child is different than what you're used to. But I promise it'll be a good job. I'll appreciate you more than I can say, and I'll do my best to make sure you know it." I attempt to sound genuine and earnest and trustworthy.

He nods, and the play of emotions on his face is impossible for me to comprehend. Does he believe me? Does he trust me?

Probably not. Why would he?

Nolan Byrne didn't seek me out. Nor did he apply for this job. He was just a guy lending a helping hand, and I'm the superstar who wants to take advantage of his expertise. Why can't I let this go? I chew on my lip, but there are no other options—I have to apologize. Again. And then I have to let him get on with his life.

"I'm sorry. You said no. I need to respect your decision. I shouldn't have let Brian send you that contract. And I shouldn't have asked Mina to convince you to come today."

I force myself to stop talking. No more pleading. Or asking.

I hate how pushy I've become. It's like I drank the pop star Kool-Aid, and no matter how hard I try to keep a level head and remember the girl I used to be—with a normal childhood in a middle-class neighborhood—I still fall victim to my success.

Sometimes I forget that being famous doesn't mean I get whatever I want, whenever I want it. I mean…it usually does mean that, but not always. Not now.

Nolan studies me intently. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be, and I hate to admit it, but it's kind of nice to be wanted."

I can't tell if he's joking, and I don't want to assume, so I say, "But it isn't nice to be harassed."

"I don't feel harassed. I've never felt harassed by you."

That's a relief. However?—

"I still feel like a jerk. I got wrapped up in how good you were with Maddy, and how much easier things would be if someone I trusted was taking care of her."

"How do you know you can trust me?" he asks, slow and thoughtful, like he's truly curious.

"Instinct, I guess. You seem like you know what you're doing without any doubt." I smile ruefully, and add, "Also, Brian got quite an earful from the new headmaster and some of the teachers at your former school. They're pissed you got fired, and they talked about you like you're a child whisperer. They couldn't say enough flattering things. I guess they reinforced my instincts." I pause, and then quickly add, "Not that I needed to be convinced."

He takes a deep breath, his attention going from me to Maddy and back to me again. "You know Maddy's still going to cry sometimes if I take care of her, don't you? Just because I knew why she was crying one time, doesn't mean I'll always be able to soothe her. You know that, right?"

Hope rushes through me. Is he saying what I think he's saying? Is it possible that he trusts me—even just a little bit? "She's a baby. I know she's going to cry, and I don't expect miracles."

He scrubs a hand down his face. "Okay. I'll do it. I'll take the job."