Chapter 43

MADISON'S POV Thick air backstage; the voices beyond the curtain loud from the crowd, angry, demanding without relent. My heart beats fast inside my chest, loudly and clear in an echo of dread, unmollified. Michael stood near the curtain, his shoulders unbending, face expressionless. Ethan paced, clench-jawed and loose-lipped, muttering curses. Contingency-nothing and a backup-quite frankly well that wasn't looking great either. And things only got much better, considering we were burning daylight. "Michael," he suddenly turned and said, as if his feet stopped in mid-stride, "what's the score now? Can't we simply hang around here.” Michael blew out a hard breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll go out there. I'll apologize and explain…" Explain what?" I asked, my voice shaking. "That we lied? That we tricked them into thinking Miss K was going to model her designs?" "Do you have a better idea?" Michael shot back louder. I didn't. And neither did anybody else. Smoothing his jacket