Page 100 of Worth Every Game

“I am such a huge fan,” I begin.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Amy interrupts. “Thanks, but we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. You’ve got some serious talent, lady. You wrote those songs?”

I nod, still finding it difficult to speak.

“Wow. Where the hell have you been hiding? What have you been doing for the last decade?”

I stand with my mouth hanging open, and Kate throws an arm around my shoulders. “She’s been practising. Isn’t she great?”

“Fabulous,” Amy agrees. She turns away, and I figure that’s it, that’s all I’m getting—and I tell myself it’s enough to be not only acknowledged by one of the biggest stars, but complimented—when Amy calls out to a tall, dark-haired man nearby. “Robert, come here.”

The man turns, and a sickening panic coils in my stomach. It’s Robert Lloyd, Amy’s Manager.Shit.

He frowns, and his stare penetrates my skin, then he breaks into a smile and comes over to join us.

“Wasn’t she great?” Amy says to Robert. He agrees and congratulates me on the performance. “Reckon we can help get her career off the ground?”

Robert muses this for a moment, his dark eyes assessing me. He looks to Amy. “That depends on whether she shows up to any meetings.”

Amy quirks a brow, and Robert explains that I didn’t show up for our meeting at the Granville Agency.

“I assumed you didn’t want representation,” he says, turning his attention to me. “Thought you must have found something better.”

Better?What’s better than Robert Lloyd? “No…” I’m sure the regret is scrawled across my face. He gives me a kind smile, and the knot of anxiety in my stomach unwinds a fraction.

“I don’t usually give people second chances, Elly. But when they’re as good as you, I’m open to it. We can do more than get you off the ground. We can get you flying right to the top.”

“Oh. Oh.”Words, Elly.“That would be… I don’t know what to say.” I press my palms to my cheeks, finding them warm. “Thank you. I’d love to work with you.”

Amy squints as she looks at me, as though she’s processing something. “I wonder if we could sing together. How can we make that happen?”Oh, my God.I’m dead. I must have died.“Can we do that, Robert?”

“Absolutely,” he says, and his enthusiasm matches Amy’s. “I haven’t heard anyone with as unique a sound as you in a long time. Raw talent, that’s what you’ve got. I’d love to have a chat about your aspirations, because, whatever they are, we can make them happen. Hell, we can exceed them. Can you come in for a meeting? Show up this time.” He digs into his pocket and hands me his card. “Take this, in case you lost the other one.”

I feel faint holding that little piece of card.A second chance.This time, I won’t freak out. I’ll see it through.

“I’ll get your number from Nico,” Amy says, before kissing me on the cheek and squeezing my hand. “Actually, wait.” Her eyes flash with inspiration. “Let’s do it now. Let’s sing together. You ready for an encore?”

Adrenaline floods me, my knees threatening to buckle.

“Go,” Kate urges, waving me back towards the stage with both hands. Amy, buoyant with enthusiasm, grabs me, the metal of all her rings hard against my hand. She tugs me to the stage again, and leans into the microphone, me standing awkwardly beside her.

“Wasn’t that performance amazing? Give it up for Elly Carter everyone,” Amy yells, and instantly the attention of the room is back on us and everyone roars.No, screams. I don’t think anyone expected to see Amy Moritz on stage tonight.

The place goes wild as people get their phones out and start filming and snapping pictures. Amy waves her arms in the air and her sequin-covered dress sparkles. “I’m going to make a prediction. This time next year, this woman is going to be huge.” Again, the party clamors, and I can hear Kate squealing. She’s bouncing on her toes and clapping, and beside her Nico is grinning widely.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“You know, ‘Beat Me’?” Amy asks me, referencing one of her massive summer hits. I nod.Of course, I know it. “Let’s do that.”She winks at me and whispers away from the microphone, “Next time, I’ll sing one of yours.” And I feel like I’m going to explode.

The band begins and Amy sings the opening phrase, her soulful voice filling the room, and then she lets me take over, andholy shitit’s unreal, standing here next to one of the industry’s biggest stars. My feet might be on the ground, but internally I’m soaring.

I make it through the track, and at the end, the applause is greater than I’ve ever experienced.It’s deafening.Amy throws an arm around me and we leave the stage together, pushing through the enthusiastic crowd. She promises to be in touch and excuses herself as she’s swarmed with people.

“Oh, my God, oh, my God, you were wonderful.” If Kate was breathless before, she’s hyperventilating now. “And also”—she pulls her phone out of her handbag—“You’re trending.”

I don’t like that word.“What?”

“Yeah. The latest videos went totally viral. Millions of views. A few big influencers have used your sound too. It’s all over the place. And Amy posted a selfie when your set started, with you performing in the background. She tagged you. And after that performance”—she nods at the stage as though we’re both still singing up there—“you’ll be everywhere.”

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