The other two judges exchanged glances but said nothing.
'A MOMENT? I DON'T HAVE A MOMENT. I HAVE A MENTAL BREAKDOWN SCHEDULED.'
Madison's throat went dry. "Um. Sure?"
'WHY DID I SAY SURE?!'
Ethan gestured toward a side door. "This way."
She followed.
Because apparently her body had a death wish.
The hallway was empty. Quiet.
He led her to a small office. Glass walls. Simple furniture.
Everything sleek and expensive.
Just like him.
Just like the man she'd accidentally tried to pay for sex.
He closed the door behind them.
Locked it.
Madison's pulse spiked. "Look, about this morning and the money... I didn't know..."
"You have talent."
He cut her off. Walked to the desk. Leaned against it.
"Real talent. The kind I've been looking for."
She blinked. "What?"
"I want to sign you. To AUREYA."
Her brain struggled to catch up. "You... what?"
"I'm expanding into the American market. I need a star. Someone fresh. Someone with your voice."
He crossed his arms. "You're perfect."
Madison stared at him.
'Is this a prank? Is this a fever dream? Did I actually die on stage and this is hell?'
"You're serious."
"I don't joke about business."
"But... last night..."
"Was last night."
His eyes locked onto hers. "This is business."
"Business."
She repeated the word like it was in a foreign language.
"You want to sign me. After I... after we... after I PAID YOU..."
"Yes."
Her mind raced.
This was it. The opportunity she'd been dreaming of.
AUREYA Entertainment. A real contract. A real shot.
But there had to be a catch.
There was ALWAYS a catch.
Especially with men who let you tie them up with scarves and then turned out to be CEOs.
"What's the catch?" she asked.
Ethan's lips curved into a small smile. "Smart girl."
He pushed off the desk. Walked closer.
Stopped right in front of her.
Way too close.
Close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in those green eyes.
"The catch," he said quietly, "is that you marry me."
Madison's brain short circuited for the second time that day.
Actually just blue screened.
Error 404: Brain not found.
"I'm sorry. WHAT?"
"Marry me. Secretly. No one can know."
She laughed.
Couldn't help it.
It came out slightly unhinged.
Borderline hysterical.
"You're insane."
"I'm practical."
His face didn't change.
Still dead serious.
"I have my reasons. Personal reasons. And in exchange, you get the contract. Full support. Everything you need to become a star."
"You want me to marry you. For a contract."
"Yes."
"The man I tied up with a scarf."
"Yes."
"The man I thought was an escort."
"Yes."
"The man I PAID THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS."
"Yes."
"That's insane."
"That's the offer."
Madison's head spun.
This couldn't be real.
People didn't just propose fake marriages for record deals.
That was delusional story nonsense.
Bad romance novel territory.
The kind of thing her aunt would read on the beach and cackle about.
Except he was dead serious. She could see it in his eyes.
"Why?" she asked. "Why would you even want that?"
"That's not your concern."
"It kind of IS if you're asking me to MARRY you!"
"Do you want the contract or not?"
She opened her mouth. Closed it.
Her mind raced through her options.
Go back to Vegas. Back to the dingy hotel apartment.
Back to singing in pubs for tips while Brandon's voice echoed in her head.
Back to being the girl who got dumped for not being "woman or sexy enough."
Or take the deal.
Marry a stranger.
A hot stranger.
A hot stranger she'd already slept with.
A hot stranger she'd accidentally paid for sex.
Become a star.
It was insane. Completely insane.
But also... tempting.
Way too tempting.
"I need time to think," she said finally.
"You have until tomorrow. Five PM."
He pulled a card from his pocket. Handed it to her.
"My number. Call me with your answer."
Madison took the card.
Her fingers brushed his. A spark shot through her.
She jerked her hand back.
He smirked.
Like he knew exactly what that touch did to her.
Like he knew everything.
'Smug bastard.'
"One more thing," he said.
His voice dropped lower.
"If you agree, there are rules, contracts to be signed. No one can know. Not your friends. Not your family. No one."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you walk out that door. And we never speak of this again."
Simple. Clean. Terrifying.
Madison clutched the card. "I'll call you."
"I'll be waiting."
She turned. Walked to the door.
Her hand was on the handle when his voice stopped her again.
"Madison."
She looked back.
His eyes were dark. Intense.
"Last night wasn't a mistake. At least not for me."
He reached into his jacket pocket.
Pulled out the folded bills she'd given him this morning.
Held them out to her.
"And for the record?"
That smirk was back. Full force.
"You don't need to pay me for anything. Though I appreciate the tip."
Madison snatched the money.
She needed it more than his rich ass did.
Shoved it in her bag.
Her face was approximately the temperature of the sun.
"I hate you," she muttered.
"No you don't."
Before she could respond, he turned away.
Dismissed her without another word.
Madison walked out.
Down the hall.
Out of the building.
Into the blinding Vegas sun.
She made it about half a block.
Found a lonely corner.
Looked up at the sky.
Arms raised.
"OH MIGHTY UNIVERSE!!!"
A jogger passing by gave her a weird look.
She didn't care.
"WHAT DID I DO... aside-from-sleeping-with-him... TO DESERVE THIS FUCKED UP SCENARIO?!"
Her phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
She looked down.
[By the way, your knot tying skills still need work. Might want to practice before the wedding. - E]
Madison stared at her phone.
Then at the card in her hand.
Ethan Hayes. CEO.
Then back at the text.
"Oh my God."
She was going to marry him.
She was absolutely going to marry him.
Because spite was a hell of a motivator.
And also because she really, REALLY wanted that record deal.
But mostly spite.
Her thumb hovered over the reply button.
What the hell was she supposed to say to that?