Page 97 of Trouble Walked In

She gripped the steering wheel a little harder and blinked away a tear. It was probably too late. His silence hammered at her from a distance, and it was more effective than if he’d shouted.

What would he do when he saw her? Would he turn his back and walk away?

She deserved that.

By the time she reached Madison Square Garden, Lizzie was a mixed-up bundle of nerves. She wound her way through the maze of equipment, storage boxes, cases, and people backstage, trying to stay out of the way but unable to stand still. She expected to see Renic around every corner, but there was no sign of him.

Even with earplugs, the music and crowd noise were so loud that she knew it would be hard to hear for hours. She’d forgotten how loud it could be backstage.

She pushed her way past a roped-off area for costume changes to peek through the side curtain at the crowd. It was the biggest venue Della had ever played, and it looked packed. Tens of thousands of people clapped and danced and sang along with the opening act, the up-and-comer in Self Evident’s stable Keith McKay.

Keith’s style complemented Della’s and worked well to pump up audience anticipation. He was edgy pop with a hint of rock, and hot enough to make everyone swoon. She could see why Renic had chosen him for Self Evident.

Someone tapped her shoulder, making her jump. She whirled to find Della grinning at her like a fool.

“Jumpy much?” Della shouted over the music. She wore a black, sequined halter-style minidress with fringe, a hooded, floor-length black and gold cape, and thigh-high black boots.

Gone was the little girl who preferred bright yellow sundresses and the teenager who wore bedazzled schoolgirl outfits. In her place was a glistening, brilliant woman with sparkling eyes who could captivate thousands with a single wave of her hand.

Her sister looked every inch the superstar.

Lizzie pulled Della in for a long hug. “You look great!”

“Thanks for coming.” Della squeezed her back. “I don’t want this without you.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Lizzie told her. “Give ’em hell, Dell Bell.”

The music ended, and Keith made his transition announcement. “Thanks for coming. Stick around because I think you’ll like who walks out here next. Thank you New York!”

The crowd erupted, and the applause lit a fire in Della’s eyes.

Keith ran down the stage steps and stopped next to Della. “Think I got ’em warmed up enough?”

Della squeezed his arm. “You did great. See you in thirty for the duet.”

“Yep.” He looked Lizzie up and down, and his smile deepened a couple of notches. “Who’s this?”

The man was completely full of himself, but charming. She couldn’t help but smile back.

Della shoved him playfully away. “It’s my sister. Scoot.”

Lizzie held out her hand. “I’m Lizzie, the backstage Bellamy.”

Keith shook her hand. “Nothing backstage about you.”

Lizzie flashed a rueful smile. “You haven’t heard me sing.”

Keith’s gaze dipped lower. “Plenty of other reasons to have you on stage. Hope you’re going to the party after.”

She nodded. “I plan to.”

“Good. See you there. And you,” he said, pointing at Della, “see you in thirty. Keep ’em hot for me, ’kay, babe?”

“Whatever.” Della rolled her eyes. “Go away.”

Keith saluted them both and trotted off toward what Lizzie assumed was the green room.

Della’s band, including five backup singers and a troop ofdancers, clustered around the stage steps. They looked pumped and ready for action.

---