As the attendant left, Kara muttered, “I might need some help, Miss. A washcloth to wipe away the drool you dribbled on my lap, perhaps?” She snorted. “If only they knew how taken you are with your current paramour.” The seatbelt lights went on, and everyone began straightening up, readying for landing. Chairs were put in the normal place. Tray tables were put away. Drinks and trash were collected. One of the flight attendants went to hand out any coats that had been hung up when we boarded.

Gayle leaned forward again. “Watch it, Kara. Green doesn’t look becoming on you.”

I expected a cutting remark back, but my colleague remained silent, only pressing her lips together. She sat back, and everyone was quiet until we fully landed and the hatch door was opened.

I collected my carry-on, slung it over my shoulder, and waited my turn. Shanna and two others were in front of us.

She looked back, stepping into the main aisle and meeting my gaze. Remorse flashed in her eyes, but she only asked, “Did you sleep well, Brody?”

Everyone within hearing distance looked to me.

“Oh no,” someone said behind me.

I looked back. Gayle was checking her phone. She was scrolling over her screen, her frown burrowing deeper and deeper. She looked up, some of color draining from her face.

“It’s been leaked. The press knows about Morgan.”

Goddamn!

I turned to Shanna. “You’re fucking with her life. Don’t you get that?”

She didn’t respond. Her hand tightened around her bag, and she moved forward, heading off the plane.

Kara muttered under her breath, “Whereas you’re just fucking her, in general.”

“That’s what you’re pissed about? That I’m not fucking you?”

She’d started to go forward but stopped and twisted around to glare at me.

I met her look head-on.

No response came, but her face filled with color before she turned and followed Shanna off the plane.

Once I hit the airport corridor, people were waiting with their phones ready. I heard the continuous clicks of shutters and tried to avoid looking directly into the flashes. The questions didn’t come right away. I was on the normal walkway and heading for the baggage claim before people started asking what movie I was shooting. If they could take a picture of me, a selfie with me. Once I stopped for those, the autographs started.

Gayle waited beside me, and when a small crowd formed, airport security showed up. They helped move us along, finally offering a cart to drive us to the baggage claim. Normally, I didn’t take them up on the offer, but I wasn’t in a mood to be a celebrity that day.

Gayle had a car waiting for us outside, and I got in, ignoring the small group of paparazzi that seemed to always know when we’d be there. I ducked inside to wait while Gayle remained inside to collect our suitcases.

Someone knocked on the window. I ignored it until the door opened again. The driver leaned down. “A Miss Kara Stone is wondering if she could get a ride with you?”

I almost rolled my eyes because the girl had some balls after the comment she made on the plane, but I waved her in. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

She didn’t need to be told. She darted around the driver and scrambled in, taking one of the front seats away from me. She only had one bag on her lap. I asked, “Where’s your suitcase?”

“One of the assistants is getting it.”

“Watch it, Kara. Your diva side is coming out already.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Like you’re one to talk.”

I narrowed mine right back, though she still couldn’t see through my sunglasses. “I’m not in there because I didn’t want to deal with the paparazzi. That’s the only reason.”

“You’ve been a diva the whole time, not just today.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, Brody. You had your own cabin the whole time. You had time off. Then you think you can threaten our bosses and get away with it.” Her fist pounded into the seat by her leg. “And you know what really pisses me off? You will get away with it.”

I was silent a moment and then asked in a low voice, “Do you have a sister or a brother?”

She was quiet, too, picking at her shirt. “A sister.”

“Are you close?”

“Sometimes. It’s a hate-love relationship.”

“Well, I hope for your sake you’re never on the phone with her when she dies. Trust me. It’s something that fucks with you.”

Her shoulders lowered. She gathered her hands together in her lap and refused to look up from them. “I’m sorry. I am. I just . . . this movie was supposed to be my big break. But it’s not. It’s all about you.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone worries about you. Everyone talks about you. Shanna leaked your girlfriend, and she’s using you to draw up the hype. I heard your manager. You know it’s leaked, right?”

I clenched my jaw. “She said Morgan was leaked, not the two of us.”

“Nope. It’s out.” She pulled her phone out, pulled up her browser, and handed it over, and there in big, bold letters at the top of article was Hollywood Bad Boy Falls Hard!

I couldn’t—no, I could.

Anger started inside, rolling right into rage.