Chapter 52

“Shit! Not again,” I moaned, tossing my phone on the ground. Fortunately, it didn’t break.

“What?” Lily asked.

I motioned towards my phone.

“Fucking paparazzi are trying to ruin my life again.”

Lily picked up my phone. Her eyes widened when she saw the headline and picture.

“Well, it isn’t that bad, really. You can’t identify the man, and all you’re doing is getting into the limo,” she said.

“Yeah, getting into a limo with a mysterious rich man. That doesn’t seem like something people would mistake for something slutty at all,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Oh, give me a break. You were at a party with a bunch of rich people. You could’ve been getting into the limo with him for a million reasons, almost none of them slutty.”

We laughed.

“Besides,” she continued, “Rick and I are helping you get in the limo in this photo, so it’s not like you’re alone with him.”

I nodded.

“You’re right. How could anyone possibly misconstrue that?”

Unfortunately, more people misconstrued it than I would have liked. By the next morning, my phone was swamped with posts about how I was easy and how I got around. I tried to tell myself that I was used to this gossip and wouldn’t let myself be bothered by it, but it was hard to not let it get under my skin.

Just before I got out the door to go to Arthur’s office, I received an e-mail from a lawyer for Freyja. It read:

Dear Ms. Anna Leonard,

We regret to inform you that the Board of Directors for Freyja, Inc., is terminating your contract and hereby dropping you as the official spokesperson for the brand. Due to recent scandals involving you and multiple influential males, it is the general consensus here at Freyja that you are no longer the image that the company wishes to have representing it.

We wish you the best of luck in your future pursuits.

Sincerely,

Johnathan Prestley et al.

Blood pounded in my ears. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn’t close the e-mail quickly enough.

It took all of my self-control not to race the Aston Martin to Arthur’s office. I wanted to hit something, to take all of my anger and frustration out on something, anything, but I knew that I couldn’t. I just had to put on my best fake happy face and bear it until I could return home and melt down in private.

Of course, that didn’t fool Arthur.

“What’s wrong, my little fan?” he asked almost the second I walked through the door.

I huffed as I set my bags on the table.

“I’m sure you’ve seen the news,” I said.

“About you being seen with yet another man?” A dark look flashed across his face for a moment, but it passed so quickly that I was sure that I had imagined it. “Yes, but it was pretty ridiculous, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, well, Freyja’s Board of Directors didn’t think so. They dumped me.”

Arthur’s brows shot up.

“They dumped you? Why?”

“Their e-mail only said that they didn’t think that they wanted the image that I could give them considering my recent scandals with influential males or some such nonsense.”

His nose scrunched in distaste.

“So, in other words, they dismissed you based on what they assumed about your dating life. Am I getting that right?”

I shrugged.

“Yeah, I suppose you could put it that way.”

“Well, aside from that being all kinds of illegal, especially if they didn’t put a morality clause in your contract,” he said, strolling over to the makeup chair, “I don’t think your fans will like that, either.”

I eyed him.

“What are you getting at?”

“If you don’t want to get them legally, which I feel like you don’t—”

“I have had enough of lawyers for one life.”

“Very well. Like I was saying, if you don’t want to get at the Freyja people legally, then you can always get at them through your fans. You have plenty of them, so all you have to do is tell them what happen and then let fate take its course.”

I paused in laying out my supplies across the table. The idea had an odd sort of poetic justice to it. Let other people’s opinions of a situation get me out of it, just like they had gotten me into it in the first place.

“You might be onto something, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled so brightly, it lit up the room.

“I’m more than just a pretty face, my little fan.”

Seemingly to Arthur’s dismay, I finished up our session early and headed out in time to catch an early lunch before my next appointment. As I stepped off the elevator and into the lobby, I saw Barnett chatting up the secretary.

I cringed and almost ran for the exit, but I stopped myself. Lily’s words rang through my head.

You need to tell him how you feel, before it’s too late.

I knew she was right, but there was no way that I could open that door, not now. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us. However, that didn’t stop me from apologizing to him for how I treated him after we slept together.

It was the least that I owed him.

I took a deep breath and approached him with all the confidence that I could muster.

“Barnett!” I called out. “Barnett! I need to talk to you.”

I saw him glance my way before he turned, waved goodbye to the secretary, and headed to the elevator at the opposite end of the lobby. I rushed to catch up to him.

“Barnett, wait! It’s me, Anna! I really need to talk to you.”

I watched as he raised his finger to the Bluetooth device in his ear and started to talk to someone on it. I could’ve sworn that his footsteps got quicker, too. My only chance to catch him would be while he was waiting at the elevator, but instead of doing that, he veered to the left and took the stairs.

As the door to the stairs slammed behind him, I crumpled in defeat. Barnett must have known that I was calling after him and trying to catch up to him. He just didn’t want to talk to me.

Panting from the effort of chasing after him, I walked over to the water cooler and got myself a cup of water. I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window and looked outside as I drank the cool, refreshing liquid and thought on the interaction—or lack thereof—with Barnett.

Then I saw her.

Julia.

She paced just outside the office building, constantly looking over her shoulder at the door and checking her watch as though she were waiting for someone to come out.

Who could she possibly be waiting for? It couldn’t be Barnett, I assured myself. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have run up the stairs like he just did.

Unless he was only doing that to avoid me, a more tortured side of myself said.

I shook my head to get that thought out of it.

No, no, there’s no way that she’s waiting for him. He would never get back together with her, not after what she did.

Which left only one question: How the hell was I going to get out of this building without her noticing me?