My college roommate with his surfer hair and all chill vibes flashes through my mind, and I try to pick out those pieces of him now in the black jacket, his hair pulled back in a tight bun. But all I see is the pompous version—the one who knows his shit and won’t let any of mine stand between us and a payday.

This is the Christian we hired, even if the other is more tolerable.

When I nod, he blows out a breath. “Thank fuck.” He drains the scotch glass, lifting a finger to the server for another. “Now, I’ll just have to apologize to the sexy little redhead for you acting like a douche last night and hope you haven’t chased her off. Considering who the label could have sent, I’d say we lucked the fuck out.”

As he pulls out his phone, I swipe to unlock mine. I stare at it for a long moment before opening the app I downloaded the second we landed in Prague. It comes to life, the large purple W throbbing like a heartbeat on the screen until it turns into Wanderer’s dashboard.

The second it loads, a notification lowers from the top of the screen. The same shock from last night coasts through my bloodstream, and not trusting reality, I have to read it three more times.

SaintR signed on twelve hours ago—location Prague.

“I’ll do it,” I say, not even thinking. My eyes lift to my manager across the table.

Christian’s brow draws in, his eyes trained on his phone. “Do what?”

“Tell the director we changed our minds.” I swallow the lump of doubt in my throat, shoving down the part of me that says I need to leave the past in the past. Let Remi Sinner go on tour with Adams North and Of Men and Wolves without knowing who I am.

But we’re both in Prague. Both have the app.

Christian studies me, searching for the angle he’ll never find. “You won’t pull anything?”

I shoot him a cool smile and slide my shades back on, rising from the table without a word. As I’m walking away, he calls through the restaurant after me, “How are you going to apologize without her number?”

“Don’t need it,” I reply.

I don’t even need to know where she’s staying.

Remi Sinner is about to come straight to me, and then we’ll learn which one of us is more afraid of ghosts.

3

REMI

When my phone dings, I sigh, flopping back on the bed.

I’ve been editing video all morning, avoiding Heath’s messages. Shockingly, I’m not eager to explain to my mentor that I somehow screwed up the chance of a lifetime he handed me. Plus, part of me is still holding out for the band’s manager to call, telling me it was all a misunderstanding.