“Get me out of these next shows.” I shoved back farther, catching Gerard’s foot and causing him to yelp in pain. Better than an argument. I slammed my laptop shut.

“I can’t . . . This is career suicide!” Gerard sputtered.

“That’s better than losing my wife and kid.”

“You don’t mean that. Your son will come around. You’re his famous, cool dad. All you have to do is . . . I don’t know . . . take him somewhere he wants to go. Voila! World’s best dad.”

My brows shot up. “And Ella?”

Gerard gnawed on his ring finger. “Well. I mean. She’s probably going to leave you anyway. Now.”

And the weight I’d been carrying crashed against my shoulders with enough force to cause me to stagger.

“How did I let this get so far out of hand?”

I glanced around. I didn’t have many people on staff—I wasn’t a big name like Asher or Hayden. But I wasn’t willing to stick with people who’d lied and cheated, maybe worse, to get their claws deeper into my earnings.

“Clive!” He was my head of—and only—security. I waited for the large ex-biker to stroll over, hands in pockets, tattoos bulging on his thick biceps. “Did you have anything to do with Monique and Gerard conniving to split me and Ella up?”

“Your cute pixie wife?” Clive’s voice was deep, his words slow. “Nah, man. I like the little Brit.”

I turned back to Gerard, who was nibbling at his nails faster than usual. “First off, Merry Christmas.” I pulled out an envelope I’d intended to give Gerard after the performance tomorrow. A large thank-you for building my career and helping me reach this pinnacle of success.

He took it, his expression changing from fearful to confused.

“You’ve helped me out these past few years, worked your tail off for me. Thanks for all that.” Gerard’s thin lips started to curve up, his eyes began to gleam. I took a deep breath and said the words, “You’re fired.”

“What?” His squeal reminded me of the greased pigs Jeremiah and I saw at the rodeo a couple of years ago. Before all this craziness hit.

“You just said I helped you. You can’t fire me.”

“Already did.” I turned to Clive. “Escort him out of the trailer and off the fairgrounds, please.”

Clive dipped his head and grasped Gerard’s upper arm. The smaller, older man continued to squawk and flail, but Clive’s grip was firm, and I didn’t doubt Gerard would be off-premises within minutes.

“Oh, wait!” I called. Gerard turned back, a look of triumph on his face, but it quickly turned to defeat when I pulled off his lanyard that held his credentials to get in the back-stage area. “Please make sure security knows he’s off all my lists. Monique, too. I don’t want to see that woman either.”