When Stars Collide (Chicago Stars #9)(78)

“It has to be over, Thad,” she pleaded. “It’s been wonderful. More than wonderful. But we’re breaking up now.”

He hardened his heart against the glint of tears in her eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“I can’t do this any longer. You’re too big a threat to me.”

That made him furious. “Threat?”

She waved her hand in a jerky, arbitrary motion. “I keep setting these deadlines and rolling right past them because I don’t want it to be over.”

“Yeah, you do have a thing for deadlines,” he said, as coldly as he could.

She tugged on the bottom of her pink T-shirt. “This one has expired.”

He’d had enough. “Great. I’ll see you around.” He stalked out of the kitchen and grabbed his laptop.

“The thing you have to know,” she said to his back, “is that I’ve fallen in love with you.”

That stopped him cold. As he turned, he saw a whole universe of emotions smeared all over her face. Helplessness, pain, resolution. “Jesus, Olivia, you’re not in love with me. You’re— We’re . . .” He stammered for the right word. “We’re teammates. We don’t love each other. We have goals. Ambitions. We think the same. We’re teammates, that’s all.”

She pressed her fingers to her throat as if she were choking. “It won’t do, Thad. Some part of me wants to give up everything for you. To refocus my life. Put music in second place. Give up my song! I can’t do that.”

“Nobody’s asking you to.”

“But I can feel it. Wanting to be in your world—to cut out on a rehearsal early to give us more time together. To trim my schedule so I can watch you play ball. To stop getting on planes. To cook dinner for you!”

“Goddammit, you can’t cook!”

A tear hung on her bottom lashes but refused to fall. “Don’t you see? I want to prioritize you over my career, just like I did with Adam. It’s a pattern. And that pattern is going to destroy who I am. What I live for!”

“You and your goddamn drama.” The words came spewing out, propelled by fear, by pain. “You create drama. You live for it. And I’ve had enough of it.”

He’d meant to hurt her, but what he’d just said wasn’t true. She didn’t love the drama that had been foisted on her any more than he did. He tried to think of a way to tell her that. To take it back. But she’d gone cold on him.

“Yes. Of course, you’re right. And now you understand why this is for the best.”

The words he didn’t mean to say spewed out. “Damn straight it is. We’re done.”

He stalked to the door and left her alone, just as she wanted to be.

*

None of Thad’s friends had ever seen him drunk, and as they looked at each other over their table at Spiral, Coop’s old nightclub, they weren’t exactly sure what to do about it. Thad wasn’t either a mean drunk or a happy drunk. He was a dead-silent drunk. In the end, Clint volunteered to take him home. “But if he throws up in my car, I’m making him buy me a new one,” he told Ritchie.

Clint knew Olivia was responsible for Thad’s current state because when he’d asked where she was, Thad had snarled, “How the hell would I know?”

Clint drove Thad out to his own house in suburban Burr Ridge and dumped him on one of the brocade couches in the living room. When he was sure he wouldn’t roll off, he headed for the kitchen to get a bag of chips. Right from the beginning, he’d liked Olivia, but now he wasn’t sure. Thad was his teammate, and no matter how big a pain in the ass he was, Clint loved the guy, and he’d always have his back.

As he ripped open the chips, he considered the possibility of getting T-Bo to watch some game film once he sobered up in the morning. The odds weren’t good, and he blamed Olivia for that, too.

*

Thanks to Thad, Olivia had bodyguards. It was so like him. She’d hurt his pride, but he’d still done what he saw as the right thing. He’d also told Piper he was picking up the tab, something Olivia immediately fixed. He might be a lot wealthier than her, but she’d still pay her own bills.

Either Piper or one of her female employees now drove Olivia to and from rehearsals, but even though someone had gotten in her dressing room, Olivia wouldn’t let them come inside the theater. The walls were too thin for anyone to murder her in here. And if they tried? Right now she didn’t much care.

She marked through piano rehearsal and sang for first dress rehearsal, giving it her best, which wasn’t good enough. She was the star attraction for this production, and the Muni had a big financial stake in her appearance. She was the one responsible for this crisis, not the Muni, and if Mitchell wanted her to perform, she’d do it, regardless of the consequences.

But Mitchell didn’t want her to perform, not on opening night. He broke the news as kindly as he could. “Olivia, every great singer has these spells where they aren’t able to perform up to their own standards. I’m sure this is only temporary, but for now, it’s best for the company and for you if Lena takes over for opening night.”

Olivia was heartsick. You win, Adam. You wanted me to fail, and now I have.

But Adam wasn’t at fault. She was the one who’d handed over her power.

*

Instead of being in the theater the night of final dress rehearsal, Olivia locked herself in her apartment and got drunk on Negronis. She’d perfected this combination of Campari, sweet vermouth, and gin during her twenties when she’d studied in Italy, but she’d never drunk so many at one time. She’d also never drunk them at midnight, with her tears turning into ugly sobs at the memory of that cold, hard look on Thad’s face.