“Is Reid really having a breakdown?”

Becca pulled out her phone and tossed it to me. It was open on her Twitter page. With a groan I scrolled through all the hashtags: #ReidisBatman #gothamissaved #capedcrusaderreal #batmanandtheshrew.

Several pictures of Reid were tagged.

And in all of them he was wearing a black cape.

And a white mask.

Batman didn’t have a white mask, but whatever. I groaned and shoved the phone back into Becca’s hand. “I guess I have work to do. And why can’t I just wear normal clothes?”

“Max’s idea of PR genius.” Becca shrugged. “You show up like you’re in costume while Reid is already in costume and it looks planned and not like he’s actually off his rocker and about five seconds away from talking to himself and feeding a dead pet bird.”

“Great,” I croaked. “I guess it semi works since we’re in this together, until I publicly shame him and then eat a pint of ice cream in my new apartment he found for me without telling!” I yelled the last part.

Becca winced. “Trust me, it will be fine. Just get through today.”

“That”—I pushed to my feet—“is going to be my mantra for the day.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

REID

Ren, Jordan’s boss, was ecstatic when I called him first thing in the morning, although he said Jordan wasn’t a fan of surprises or public displays of affection.

I told him it was all I had.

After a lot of silence and then a healthy amount of cursing, he’d told me it better go over well with the media or he was going to hang me by the balls and sprinkle me with birdseed.

And watch.

I was trying to figure out why he was so upset, but then he explained that if things went wrong it wouldn’t just be Jordan’s job but his firm’s reputation at stake.

I shivered and checked my watch. Becca texted that Jordan was on her way. The crew had torn down most of the set, but I didn’t need anything other than the park and my girl.

Well, that and a stage, props, and a few friends from Broadway.

Hell, I’d said good PR so much that day I was pretty sure it was going to become my new catchphrase: As long as it’s good PR.

“Well.” Max crossed his arms. “Our work here is done. It’s all you, kid.” He slapped me on the back. “Don’t screw up.”

“Already did.” I put the mask back on. “And thanks for trending the whole Batman thing on Twitter.”

“Dude, what else are brothers for? All I needed to do was put it on my blog. Seriously, you guys need to read my blog. I have millions of followers.”

“You have a picture of a goat, a gecko, and a snake as your background. I still don’t understand how people even take you seriously.”

“Because I’m awesome.” He frowned. “Thanks for your vote of confidence. Now go get your woman.”

I attached the mask and nodded just as a cab pulled up and Jordan stepped out.

Performances had always been easy for me. I’d never been the nervous type. Acting was in my blood. Even if the audience hated me, I was in my own world when I was on stage.

Except now.

Now I was bringing her into my world and praying she wouldn’t stomp all over my heart, then shoot me.

“Showtime.” One of the PAs spoke into his headset just as the lights hanging on the trees flashed.

It was overcast.

And starting to rain.

Which was perfect, because it made the lights stand out.

I waited for Jordan to turn the corner.

Max held his phone up so he could do the live feed. Now that we had our own YouTube channel, our subscribers were able to actually watch this take place.

Worldwide.

No pressure.

Talk about sinking my career if it didn’t work.

The Phantom overture began to play through the hidden speakers as Jordan made her way toward me, her eyes narrowing.

I held out my hand.

She stared at it.

“Music of the Night” started.

And I began to sing.

“Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation, darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses . . .” I crooned, twirling her in to my body so I could sing in her ear. “Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.” I could play the Phantom in my sleep. But I wasn’t playing the Phantom.

I was acting out a part.

And making sure she knew that she was the main attraction.

The main everything.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, purge all thoughts of the life you knew before.”

Jordan’s eyes were wide with shock as I continued singing. A crowd gathered around us as I twirled her with my hand and gripped her hips, tugging her against me.

I walked her backward toward the stage.

Where an entire orchestra was sitting and playing the song. The music crescendoed as I sang one of the highest notes of the song.

“Only then,” I whispered, “can you belong to me.”

She gasped as I lifted her into my arms and carried her onto the stage. The crowd swayed in front of us as I kept singing, then gently lowered her into the boat.

“Let the dream begin! Let your darker side give in!” I sang. “The power of the music of the night!”

Cymbals crashed around us as I reached into my cape and pulled out a single red rose.

“You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night.”

The music ended as I slowly caressed her face with the rose.