Breaking South (Turner Artist Rocker #3) - Alyson Santos Page 0,58

Gen. You look fantastic, by the way. Whatever you’ve been doing the last week or so, keep it up.”

“Thanks,” Genevieve says.

Selena disappears from the screen, and Genevieve reaches for the disconnect as well when Sam calls out to her.

“Just a second if you have time,” Sam says.

Genevieve tenses and sighs. “Sure, Sam. What’s up?”

Sam’s gaze passes between us. “Are you ready to tell me what’s really been going on? Come on, Gen. We’ve known each other for years. I know something’s up.”

Wow. Points for her manager. I watch Genevieve struggle with the question and resist the urge to jump in. It’s so obvious this woman cares about her and wants to help. All Gen has to do is say the word and Sam can work the paths I’m helpless to clear for her. Moral support? All day. She needs a shoulder, a fighter, a friend? I’m there. But when it comes to her career and this industry, I might as well be the maintenance guy picking up garbage after the show. I’m used to team play, everyone with their roles. It’s obvious what Sam’s is and she’s damn good at it, so why won’t Gen let her off the bench?

Genevieve’s hand tightens in mine. Her foot makes sharp arcs in the carpet as she stares at it. Say it! Tell her you’re not happy.

“Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just been overwhelmed.”

I manage to swallow my grunt. This girl is going to drive me crazy.

“Food poisoning?” Sam asks. “Again? You had ‘food poisoning’ at the meeting last week too. You seem to get food poisoning a lot around White Flame. Are you not happy with them?”

Genevieve pales, her eyes huge and round before she lowers her gaze again. Maybe she really does have food poisoning? I’d believe it if we didn’t just come from dinner. “No, White Flame is fine. They’ve been great. Lived up to all their promises.”

“Then what is it? It’s not like you to back out of responsibilities and commitments.”

“It’s…” The knuckles of her other hand turn white on her knee. I reach over and smooth my fingers over those too. She glances up quickly, her eyes watery and terrified. Yes, that’s what it is. Pure terror in her gaze, and for the first time I start to understand the monstrosity of what she faces. More accurately, that I don’t understand. Can’t, really. I don’t think anyone can.

“I got your back, no matter what,” I whisper to her. Genevieve’s lip quivers as she leans into me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her to my side. Resting my lips on her hair, I wait along with Sam for the verdict.

“I’m… It’s all fine, Sam. Everything’s fine. Just been stressed lately,” she says. I hear the forced brightness in her tone and sense Sam does as well. Her manager doesn’t look relieved at all as she studies her client for another moment.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Well, if it’s ever not-fine, you call me immediately, okay? I want to help you, Gen, but you have to let me.”

“I will. Bye, Sam. And thanks.” Genevieve hangs up and releases a heavy sigh. “I know, okay? Don’t say anything.”

“You know what?” I ask, curious because I’m not sure I do. My shirt feels wet, and when I look down there’s a distinct patch where her eyes rest against me. “What is it you know, Genevieve?” I repeat softly.

Her arms tighten around me, her head burrowing into my chest as she holds on. “Oliver…” My name is so broken on her lips. I squeeze harder, wanting to fix it all, furious that I can’t. It seems like my entire life right now is a series of battles I can fight but never win. My knee. Gen’s soul. Every day I get up, push through the pain, follow the protocol, do everything I’m supposed to do, for what? So my knee can mock me with the same brutal routine again and again and again. So tabloids can twist the grueling battle I face with one bogus misrepresentation.

And suddenly, maybe I do get it. I’m fighting my knee because one day I will wake up and the doctor will clear me to get back on the ice. One day I’ll stand in net again, diving for a puck or digging one out beside the post. One day there will be a breakaway with ten seconds left, and I’ll make a save that will embed itself in my mind for the rest of my life.