‘I listened to the radio interview,’ Meredith adds. ‘How do you think it went?’

‘Good. I don’t know how these things are supposed to go. But we got some decent footage anyway.’

‘There’s a party tonight here at the hotel. For some music journalists and industry types.’

‘So I heard.’

‘Ziggy says we’re invited, but that we can’t film as he thinks it will make things awkward for the guests.’

‘No matter. Duncan and I can get some footage,’ I reply in a low tone.

Meredith looks concerned, knowing what I’m referring to. I reach out, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. ‘Don’t worry. We know what we’re doing.’

For the party, I wear a short sage-green satin dress with a tiny slit up the side, and a black butterfly broach that contains a hidden camera in its wing. In the hotel bathroom, I apply a careful layer of make-up, styling my hair to frame my face, the entire time thinking I am not dressing for Aidan McArthur. The problem is, he’s noticed I’m avoiding him, yet I can’t tell him why. And he’s the one avoiding an interview with me, so we’re even. We’ve gone from bickering to awkward in the space of a week.

There is a knock at the door. Duncan stands in the corridor with a suit on.

‘You ready to go?’ he asks.

I fix my earring. ‘Come on in. I need a minute.’

‘You test it yet?’ he asks, his gaze flitting over the broach, which is close to the curve of my left breast.

I turn my back to him. ‘Can you see the power pack? Any wires?’

‘No, looks good.’

‘The test was fine.’

‘You sure you wanna bother?’

‘Mer tells me there’s an after-party after the proper party. Ziggy’s banned it, but word is they’re doing it anyway. Those are the moments I want, Dunc. When they’re relaxed and at ease… enjoying themselves.’

‘Aye, and the moment they find out that you’ve been filming them behind their backs without their knowledge, it’s game over. No amount of quiz answers will persuade them to let you stick around.’

I stop in my tracks. ‘They never need to know. Not until we’re done here, at least. No one said I couldn’t film them without their prior knowledge. There’s no clause in the contract. Why does it bother you all of a sudden?’

He gives a shrug. ‘Different subject matter, I guess. They’re a band, you know. Not master criminals.’ He holds up his hands. ‘But you’re the boss.’

I feel guilt creeping up from my toes. Secret filming has become mymodus operandi, but Duncan has a point. Rebel Heart aren’t people smugglers, scammers or scheming factory workers. ‘We may not even end up using it,’ I say, as though it justifies my position. I pick up my bag and push any doubts from my mind. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

We’re about to leave when there’s a hammering on my door. I open it to find Meredith hopping up and down, waving her phone in my face.

‘It’s her!’ she mouths at me excitedly. ‘It’s Bianca! She wants to talk to you!’

My eyes go wide. I carefully take the handset, ushering Meredith inside. Duncan closes the door for me.

‘Hello?’ I say. ‘Bianca?’

An American voice comes back with a fraction of a delay. ‘Is this Lexi Hart?’ it says, and she sounds like a woman who has been crying.

My tone is soothing. ‘Hi, Bianca. Yes, this is Lexi.’

‘I changed my mind,’ she says, her tone taut with emotion. ‘About the interview. I’m not gonna say anything to the press, but I’ll talk to you.’

‘We’ll be in New York after Christmas. I’d rather talk to you face-to-face. Can you wait that long?’

‘I can wait,’ she sobs. ‘I can wait. Those lyrics… I need you to know why he’s not being fair to me.’