With His Belief (For His Pleasure,
Book 14)

By Kelly Favor

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

Scarlett’s feet hurt.

It was hard getting used to waitressing again
-- since running away from Terrence, she
hadn’t held regular employment of any kind,
and waitressing was physically demanding.
Still, having worked in various diners and
restaurants and clubs since she was sixteen
years old, Scarlett was shocked at how hard
this new job was for her.

It was a burger joint in Hell’s Kitchen—a
trendy place for the “foodies”—busy as heck
from about 11:30 a.m. all the way through
9:00 p.m. or so when things finally slowed
down again. The money was decent, but the

customers were demanding and sometimes
downright snobby.

Scarlett was no stranger to people’s horrible
attitudes. It was her feet that didn’t seem
capable anymore. She felt like a broken-
down car being pushed on one more cross-
country trip, and things were beginning to
give out.

Checking her watch, she saw that it was only
a quarter past one, and she wasn’t off until
six.

She closed her eyes, just for a second—and
then someone called out to her.

“Miss? Miss?” She opened her eyes and
looked at a table that wasn’t even hers.

“Yes?” she asked, struggling to keep the edge
out of her voice.

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The man held up his empty glass and shook
it. “Can I get a refill? Diet Coke?”

Scarlett bit back her annoyance and smiled
brightly. “Of course.” She grabbed the empty
glass from his hand and went and got a refill,
brought it back to him and then went and
rang up the check for one of her actual
customers.

Her feet screamed in protest.

Can’t we just sit down for five minutes?

No.

There would be no more sitting down, Scar-
lett thought. Her days and nights were going
to be filled with walking, running, and scur-
rying about like a rat in a maze.

It was hard. She’d enjoyed working with
Bryson and in the last week or so since

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getting fired, she often thought back to it. At
the time, she perhaps hadn’t appreciated the
opportunity as much as she did now.

She’d forgotten how difficult and dreary real
work was. Movie making was different. It
was stressful and demanding, but it also felt
like there was something exciting going on.
She’d felt part of something special.

But that was gone now. She was so angry and
sad and disappointed in herself and Bryson,
too—but she also couldn’t help wistfully re-
calling the good moments between them.
And then, of course, she hated herself for
longing for that, for longing for him.

Forget about it, she told herself. Forget
about him.

She forced it all out of her mind as she col-
lected the measly five-dollar tip from her
latest customers. Instead, she simply looked

5/257

forward to her next fifteen-minute break so
she could go outside and have a smoke.

Counting down the minutes to something
tangible was so much easier than daydream-
ing about the recent past.

And then, just as she was starting to succeed
in pushing her swirling thoughts out of her
mind, the world coughed up a ghost. At least,
it seemed like it must have been a ghost.

Because walking through the door to the res-
taurant was Lydia. Scarlett blinked twice,
and waited see if the apparition faded away.
But Lydia wasn’t the type to fade away.

She smiled and opened her arms wide.
“Bestie!” she shouted. Her expression was at
once sympathetic, pitying, and devious. Only
Lydia could manage such a bizarre array of
emotions, Scarlett decided, as they hugged
one another tightly.

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“Wow,” Scarlett said. “What a surprise.”

Lydia broke off the hug and put her hands on
Scarlett’s shoulders, looking deep into her
eyes. Scarlett shifted uncomfortably under
Lydia’s gaze. “I can’t believe what he did to
you,” Lydia said, shaking her head.

Scarlett sighed. “It’s okay,” she said, wonder-
ing how much Lydia knew about what had
led to her being fired.

“No, it’s definitely not okay. We need to
talk.”

“Well, I’m kind of in the middle of my shift.”

“It’s okay.” She waved her hand, like
someone’s work schedule was completely in-
consequential. “I’ll wait until you have a free
minute.” Lydia walked over to the counter
and sat down, ordered a coffee.

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Scarlett wiped the sweaty strands of hair
from her forehead. She watched Lydia sitting
at the counter.

This was the last thing she needed right now.
At the same time, she couldn’t help but won-
der if perhaps Lydia had brought news of
Bryson and the film. She didn’t want to care,
but that didn’t make the caring stop. She was
unable to truly put him out of her mind—he
was always there in the background, like a
shadow.

Get a hold of yourself, Scarlett thought.

Lydia can’t even be trusted to tell you if the
sky is blue, let alone with details about your
personal life or the man who broke your
heart.

When it was time for her smoke break, she
went and tapped Lydia on the shoulder and
asked her to come outside.

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Once they got a few feet away from the
doors, Scarlett lit up.

Lydia wrinkled her nose at the smoke. “You
really should quit, you know.

Smoking is such a disgusting habit. And it
causes like, tons of cancers and tumors in
your lungs.” She delivered this wisdom as if
she were a scientist revealing a discovery to
an elementary school student.

“Thanks,” Scarlett said. “I’ll take it under
consideration.”

“Anyway, I’m not here to teach a health
class.”

“So why are you here?” Scarlett asked gently.
“I figured you were still upset with me about
the other day at the auditions.”

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Lydia nodded, rolling her eyes. “I was upset.
I was furious. The way you humiliated me
that day—leaving me out there by myself—I
went home and started writing a nice long
email.” She took in a deep breath, her nos-
trils flaring at the memory.

“I was going to send it to everyone in Kallie
and Sean’s family. I was going to let the cat
out of the bag.”

“But you didn’t,” Scarlett said, turning her
head and blowing smoke away from the two
of them.

“No, I didn’t.” Lydia’s eyes seemed ready to
fill with tears. “Because before I could, Sean
told me what happened to you. And I was so
mad on your behalf, I realized something
very important.” She reached out and
grabbed Scarlett’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“Scarlett, we’re both victims. And victims
need to band together. We need to form a

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united front and fight back against him
together.”

Scarlett was confused. “Fight back against
Bryson?”

Lydia’s eyes clouded momentarily. “Bryson?
No, no, no.” She shook her head angrily, like
she couldn’t believe Scarlett would be so ig-
norant. “Not Bryson, Scarlett.

Hunter.”

“Hunter? Why Hunter?”

“Because! He’s the reason all of this bad stuff
is happening to us. To you and to me and to
Kallie, even.” She bit her lip and considered
this. “Well, Kallie’s a bitch, too.

But she’s a victim of his manipulations.”

“Lydia, you know that Hunter didn’t fire me,
right? Bryson fired me.”

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“Believe me, if Hunter wanted you to stay, he
would have made it happen. And if you’re
gone, it’s because Hunter wanted you gone.”

Scarlett wasn’t even sure what to say to that.
Lydia seemed to have taken what she’d heard
from Sean and twisted it to conform to what
she wanted to believe about Hunter and Kal-
lie, obviously in an effort to further justify
her hate for them.

“I’m not so sure Hunter is to blame on this
one,” Scarlett tried.

“Don’t let him fool you. He doesn’t fool me
anymore.” Lydia put a finger to her eyelid. “I
can see. I can see what everyone else is
missing.”

“Well, I don’t know. I hope you’re not going
to send that email out, Lydia.”

“I’m not.”

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“Good.”

“Because we’re going to come out and tell the
truth together.” Lydia grinned.

“What?”

“You and I are the ones who saw that con-
tract and we need to be strong. We need to
let the world know the truth about Hunter
Reardon. Then maybe Kallie’s family will
stop her from making a huge mistake and
marrying that monster.”

“Lydia, I don’t know if —”

“You’re either with me or against me,” Lydia
interrupted.

“I’m not against you,” Scarlett said. “But I’m
not ready to hurt Kallie and Hunter, either. I
don’t want to do that to them.”

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Lydia’s lips tightened and she shook her
head. “God,” she said, “it’s like everyone’s
brainwashed but me!”

“Listen,” Scarlett said, putting out her cigar-
ette. “I need to get back to work.”

“Fine. What time do you finish here?”

“Not for a long time. After five o’clock.”

“I can wait.” Lydia smiled and then strutted
back inside the restaurant.

Scarlett followed her, watching as Lydia
made her way to the counter and resumed
her position, ordering another cup of coffee.

She

couldn’t

believe

this.

She’d

lost

everything she cared about, and the only
thing she’d gained was a crazy stalker who
wanted to hold her hostage to some insane
revenge plot.

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Just my luck, Scarlett thought, nearly laugh-
ing at the absurdity of it all.

She went back to work, trying to ignore the
specter of Lydia, who constantly tried to
catch her gaze. Scarlett did her best to pre-
tend to be too busy to even look at the wo-
man, hoping that after enough time went by,
she’d get bored and leave.

No such luck, however.

Hour after hour went by and Lydia was still
sitting there, waiting.

At about four o’clock, Scarlett’s manager
came out and asked if anyone wanted to pick
up a double.

“Carla’s sick,” he said. “Anyone interested in
staying on until close?”

“I will,” Scarlett volunteered immediately.

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He cocked his head. “Really? You seemed
half-ready to drop not too long ago.

You sure you’re up for another seven hours?”

“I got my second wind,” she lied.

The truth was that she would do anything to
avoid having to spend time with Lydia.

“Okay, you got it.” He turned away and wrote
on the schedule.

Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. She was
about to go and tell Lydia the “bad”

news, when she was stopped in her tracks by
yet another ghost.

This time, she was too stunned to make a
quick recovery.

Standing there, just a few feet away from her,
was Bryson. She blinked. Her mouth dried

16/257

up, her palms started to sweat, and her heart
raced.

Thoughts crowded into her head. Why was
he here? Was it a coincidence?

Would he turn around and leave? Did she
want him to?

But Bryson was looking directly at her and
he wasn’t making any attempt to leave. He
was dressed in crisp blue jeans and a loose
fitting t-shirt that couldn’t hide his muscular
frame. His shaggy blond hair was a little
shaggier than usual, and he was unshaven.
On most people, this would have resulted in
a very poor appearance, but for some reason,
Bryson still looked completely gorgeous.

Everything inside of her was crying out to
hold him, to run to him and feel his warmth
and tell him how hard the last week had been
for her.

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She knew how impossible that was. Instead,
she just looked at him, waiting for whatever
came next.

He stepped forward. “Scarlett.” His eyes
were soft and his mouth was softer still.

He licked his lips and stuck his hands in his
pockets. “Listen, I’m sorry to bother you at
work. But can we talk?”

A flood of anger rushed through her. Who
did Bryson think he was, anyway? “I don’t
see what we have to talk about,” she told
him. There was a feeling of ice in her throat
as she spoke. “You fired me, remember?”

“I know. That’s what I need to speak to you
about.”

“Yeah, well, I’m working.” She turned
around and stumbled away from him.

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“Scarlett, please. I’ll make a scene if I have
to.”

She turned back to him. “Why are you doing
this to me?”

“Because we need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Bryson.”

“Well then— I need to talk.”

She wanted so badly to demand that he
leave, but another part was afraid if she
pushed him away hard enough, he might ac-
tually go. And the truth was that she didn’t
want him to go. Her heart ached for
him—her entire body yearned to be close to
him again, even if just for a few minutes.

“Fine, you’ve got sixty seconds,” she told
him.

“Sixty seconds?” he repeated, incredulous.

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“It’s like a movie pitch,” she told him. “If you
can’t grab my attention and make me want to
hear more, then you don’t deserve to get any
more of my time.”

Bryson grinned lopsidedly. “Fine,” he said.
“Come outside with me.”

She went and told one of the other waitresses
to cover for her, and then she headed for the
door. Bryson was standing just outside, wait-
ing for her. When she got out, he wanted to
begin talking, but Scarlett had noticed Lydia
watching them from her seat at the counter.

“Can we just go around the corner? People
can see us,” Scarlett said.

“Fine. As long as you haven’t started the
clock yet.”

“I haven’t.”

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He began walking and she kept pace with
him. They turned the corner and went into
the alleyway. The dumpsters for the restaur-
ant were back there. Sometimes Scarlett and
the cooks or busboys would hang out back
there and smoke cigarettes, bitch about dif-
ferent coworkers. Luckily, right now the alley
was empty of people.

The sounds of the city drifted back to them,
horns honking, heels clacking on the side-
walk, voices barking into cell phones.

“All right,” Scarlett said, looking at her
watch. “You’ve got a minute.”

Bryson spent the next few seconds just look-
ing at her. She met his gaze, trying to appear
confident and annoyed by his intrusion into
her workday. In reality, her heart was beat-
ing so fast she could barely control her
breathing. She wanted his lips on hers, to

21/257

feel his tongue searching her mouth, his
large hands roughly grabbing her shoulders.

“You’ve got forty-three seconds,” she said,
breaking off to glance at her watch.

“I’m so sorry about how I treated you,” he
replied.

She sighed. She was shaking ever so slightly.

Please don’t let him notice. Please don’t let
him sense how he affects me.

“Well, I appreciate the apology. But—”

“I’m not done yet,” he said, his voice gaining
a sharp intensity. “I need you to under-
stand.” He took a deep breath. “Being with
you the other night—I haven’t felt anything
like that in a very long time.”

She looked up at him. She wanted to tell him
that it had been like that for her, too. But she

22/257

couldn’t allow herself to crumble so easily.
She stayed quiet, not trusting herself to
speak.

“I got scared,” he said. “We got close, and I
got scared. And so when I saw what you’d
done to my script, it was like an excuse. A
concrete reason to push you away.

When the only thing I wanted to do was keep
you close.”

She looked away. “Don’t say that. You don’t
have the right to come here out of the blue
and say these things, Bryson.”

“Okay, maybe that’s true.” He turned and ran
a hand through his hair. When he looked
back at her, the burning desire in his eyes
frightened her a little.

“You hurt me,” she said.

23/257

“Give me a chance to make it up to you.
Come back to work with me.”

She caught her breath. “Are you serious?”

He smiled slightly. “After I calmed down, I
read through the changes you made to my
screenplay. And I realized that you’d actually
improved it.”

“It’s been a week,” she reminded him. “Why
did you wait so long?”

“I needed some time,” he admitted. “It stung.
That was my writing, my art that you went
and messed with. And the fact that you made
it better—that didn’t entirely sit well, either.
I have a pretty big ego, you know.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“Because,” he said. “I fucking miss you to
death, Scarlett.”

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She got a little thrill when he said that.
Crossing her arms across her chest, Scarlett
looked down at the pavement. There was a
crushed beer can almost underfoot, and near
that, a McDonald’s bag that looked like it
might have been fossilized. “I don’t think I
can work with you again. I don’t trust you
anymore.”

“Well, we can work on it.” He stepped to-
wards her and reached out, putting a finger
under her chin. Gently, he pressed upward,
so that she had to look at him.

His touch was electrifying, and of course, it
was all she really wanted. And she hated him
for that.

“I think your sixty seconds is up,” she
whispered.

25/257

“Good. Then I can finally kiss you,” he said,
leaning in and grabbing her around the
waist, pulling her towards him.

His lips were strong and seductive, and she
could feel the scratchiness of his beard
stubble as he kissed her. She reached out and
touched his face, loving the way his skin felt,
loving the way he gripped her even tighter.

Suddenly, he was pushing her against the
wall in the alley, pressing his body against
hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth, his
hands moved up and grabbed her hair,
pulling gently as his tongue went deeper.

She moaned, wanting to push him away but
wanting him to refuse to go.

Finally she did push him away. “We can’t do
this.”

26/257

He was breathing heavily as he moved off of
her, his eyes wild with barely restrained de-
sire. “You know that we have something
special.”

“I don’t know what we have. But if I’m com-
ing back to work with you, we need to have
boundaries. The mistake I made was getting
too close, and I’m not going to make it
again.” Her body was on fire, and every word
was an exercise in self-control.

He nodded, his mouth twisting into a mis-
chievous grin. “Whatever you say.”

“I mean it, Bryson. I want you to respect my
wishes. We can’t be together.

Whatever this attraction is—we’re not right
for one another.”

“That’s how you really feel?”

27/257

“Yes.” But it was a lie. She just needed to
protect herself.

“Okay. Of course I’ll respect your wishes.”

“And another thing.”

“Name it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “I want a raise.”

“You want what?”

“You heard me, Bryson. I want more money.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “How much
are we talking?”

“Twenty five percent.” She lifted her chin de-
fiantly as he grinned wider.

“That’s a bit much. Are you trying to shake
me down?”

28/257

She shrugged. “Call it what you like.”

“I’ll give you a five percent raise. And you
need to start tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it for twenty percent. Not a penny
less.”

“No way. Fifteen and you have a deal.”

She smiled. He was cute when he bargained,
she thought. “Eighteen.”

“Seventeen.” He held out his hand.

She shook it. They held one another’s hand
for a few seconds too long and then Scarlett
finally, regretfully, withdrew. “Okay, Bryson.
I guess you got what you wanted.”

“Not exactly,” he replied. His expression
grew serious.

29/257

From around the corner, a woman’s voice
called out. “Scarlett?”

Bryson and Scarlett looked at one another,
both of them quiet, as if they’d been caught
in a compromising position.

The voice called out even louder.

“Oh my god, it’s Lydia,” Scarlett groaned.
“Kallie’s sister-in-law. Well, almost sister-in-
law.” She put a hand on her forehead.

“Why is she here looking for you?”

“It’s a long story—and you really don’t want
to know.”

He looked at her for another brief moment,
and seemed as if about to tell her something
else.

She wanted him to say it, whatever it was.
She wanted him to say that he needed her

30/257

more than he needed air to breathe, that he
would do anything to be with her. She
wanted him even just to kiss her again.

Scarlett knew she wouldn’t have the strength
to resist if he tried once more.

Instead, he just pulled his phone out and
checked the screen. “I’ll text you the address
where we’ll be shooting tomorrow. It’s an old
amusement park in Jersey – super cool,
you’ll like it.”

Scarlett’s brow creased. “Address we’re
shooting what?”

“The film. Production’s been moved up
again.”

“But how? There was so much left to do.”

“Don’t ask me, I’m just the director.” He
started out of the alley, glancing back over

31/257

his shoulder to where she was still rooted in
place. “You coming?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Scarlett followed him out and saw Lydia
standing there, her eyes wild as her gaze
moved every which way, searching.

“Looking for this lovely young lady?” Bryson
asked, pointing to Scarlett.

Lydia turned and her eyes widened as she re-
gistered Scarlett and Bryson coming out of
the alley together. “I was wondering where
you went!”

“Sorry, we just had to talk privately for a
minute or two.”

Now Lydia was staring, almost salivating as
she took in Bryson’s rugged good looks.

32/257

“You’re tall,” she said, as her cheeks
reddened.

“Yeah, so they tell me.” He gave Scarlett a
quick glance, as if to say ‘ is this girl for real?
’ before turning back to Lydia and extending
his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.

I’m Bryson Taylor.”

“I know who you are,” she gasped. “You’re
the talk of New York City. Do you realize
that?”

“I did not. But now, thanks to you, I know.”
He smiled good-naturedly. “Really nice to
see you, Lydia.” Then he turned and pointed
at Scarlett. “I’ll see you bright and early
tomorrow?”

She nodded.

33/257

He waved and then walked away from them.
Scarlett couldn’t take her eyes off him as he
left, but then again, neither could Lydia.

“He is the hottest man I think I’ve ever met,”
Lydia said, in a sultry voice that gave Scarlett
the heebie jeebies.

“Yeah, he’s attractive.” Scarlett shrugged. “If
you like that type.”

Lydia looked at Scarlett, narrowing her eyes.
“And I think he totally has a thing for you.”

“No.” Scarlett shook her head vehemently.
“He’s my boss.”

“So? Like that ever mattered.” Lydia’s mouth
widened. “What were you guys doing in that
alley? Who talks in an alley with their boss?
What’s going on with the two of you?”

34/257

“Nothing’s going on. He came to offer me my
job back.”

“And you took it?”

Scarlett sighed, knowing in advance what
kind of reaction this would elicit. “Yes, I took
it.”

Lydia squealed and threw her arms around
Scarlett as if she’d just kicked the winning
goal in an Olympic gold medal soccer match.
“We are going to have so much fun together
on this film shoot, Scarlett!”

“Well, I don’t know if—”

Lydia wouldn’t listen to a word that came out
of Scarlett’s mouth. “We’re besties, aren’t
we?” she asked, suddenly.

Lydia looked at her expectantly, and some-
how, without any obvious expression,

35/257

communicated a subtle threat that Scarlett
could feel in her stomach. How could she
deny being “besties” with Lydia? Did she
want to start a full out war with this woman?

The hole just gets deeper and deeper, Scar-
lett thought.

“Yes, of course we’re friends,” Scarlett said,
hating herself for uttering the words.

Lydia smiled brightly. “And now that you’re
back on this film, we’re going to be rubbing
elbows with the biggest names in showbiz.
You have to get me on set, Scarlett.

Especially after the way you let me down last
time.” She wagged her finger at Scarlett,
scolding.

“We’ll figure something out. Just let me get
in there and see how things work first.”

36/257

“But you promise you’ll introduce me to oth-
er famous people?”

Scarlett nodded. “You met Bryson Taylor,
didn’t you?”

“Oh, and it was worth it, girl. If I wasn’t en-
gaged, he would have to pry me off of him.”

I believe it, Scarlett thought. I wish someone
would pry you off of me.

Scarlett started back to the restaurant.
“Listen, I’ll call you in the next few days.

I’ve got to get back to work now and tell
them what’s going on.”

“Bye, bestie!”

“Bye,” Scarlett said, rolling her eyes when
Lydia couldn’t see it.

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As she re-entered the restaurant, it occurred
to her that she now had to do something very
unsavory. She’d never quit a job before
without giving appropriate notice, and this
was definitely not appropriate notice.

She went to the back and found her man-
ager, Seth. He was working on the schedule
for the coming week. Glancing up at her, he
instantly saw something was wrong.

“Please don’t tell me you can’t finish your
double, Scarlett. We need you here.”

She looked down. “No, I can finish my
double…”

“What is it, then?”

She bit her lip. “Today has to be my last day,
Seth.”

He stared at her, put his pen down. “Why?”

38/257

“I got offered my old job back today.”

“Is this that movie thing you said you did be-
fore you started with us?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Shit.” He rubbed his jaw. “Is the money
good?”

She nodded again. “It’s very good. At least,
compared to what I’m used to.”

“Well, then,” he sighed, “I guess you gotta do
what you gotta do, Scarlett.”

She smiled, felt her eyes fill with tears.
“Thanks for understanding. I’m really sorry
to do this to you. Everyone here’s been so
good to me.”

“Hey, shit happens. Especially in this busi-
ness.” He smiled. “And it’s not often anyone

39/257

around here gets that big break they’ve been
waiting for.”

“I’ll go back to work now, Seth. Thanks
again.” She started to the front of the
restaurant.

“Scarlett?” he called to her.

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“I just hope they’re not going to jerk you
around like they did last time,” he said, be-
fore going back to his schedule.

Yeah, she thought as she walked away, you
and me both.

***

It was an ungodly hour when she rose for
work the next morning.

40/257

She’d only just gone to bed a few hours prior,
and here she was, bleary-eyed and practically
brain dead, getting up once more to face
what would surely be a grueling workday.

Her clock read 4:15 a.m.

Scarlett trudged to the bathroom and took a
hot shower, luxuriating in the steam and the
heat that slowly began to bring her back to
life.

When she was out of the shower and getting
dressed in her room, she noticed out of the
corner of her eye that she’d received a text
message.

She went to the nightstand and grabbed her
phone. The text was from Bryson.

The first message was just the address. The
second said: If u could pick me up a large
latte with 2 espresso shots on the way? Thx!

41/257

Her hand tightened and her stomach got a
sickening, acidic burning sensation as she
read what he’d written.

You’re an assistant, she told herself. What do
you expect? Yesterday, you got drinks for
people all day long. There’s nothing to be up-
set about here.

But it wasn’t just the fact that he’d asked her
to do a coffee run for him as her very first
task coming back to work. It was the way
he’d done it—there was no sense that he was
glad to have her returning, no personal con-
nection. It made her feel like he really didn’t
care at all.

You were the one who asked him to keep
things professional, she reminded herself, as
she walked out the door of her apartment
and headed for the train station.

42/257

All the way out to New Jersey, she fretted
and argued in her mind. She was starting to
wonder if perhaps coming back to work with
Bryson had indeed been a mistake. Maybe,
even with the extra money that she desper-
ately needed, the mental toll of being around
Bryson all day was going to prove to be too
much for her to bear.

She took a cab to the set, making sure to stop
as close as possible to pick up Bryson’s coffee
at Starbucks.

By this time, it was getting close to rush hour
and there was a fairly long line of people
holding newspapers or reading their phones.
Everyone was dressed for their busy day, and
looking as grim outwardly as Scarlett felt on
the inside.

When she finally placed her order, the
barista seemed distracted.

43/257

And when the coffee order finally came up,
they got it wrong. So she had to wait another
five minutes for the once distracted but now
annoyed barista to remake it correctly.

Eventually, Scarlett arrived at the set. It was
an older amusement park that was shut
down and had been taken over by the film
crew. There were trailers, trucks and vans
parked in the parking lot and once through
the amusement park gates, Scarlett was con-
fronted with dozens of cast and crew—extras,
grips, lighting technicians, stylists and ward-
robe people, and everyone was buzzing
around like their hair was on fire and they
needed to find a big bucket of water to put it
out.

She asked a few people if they knew where
Bryson was, and no one could tell her.

One woman even looked at her with confu-
sion when Scarlett uttered his name.

44/257

“Who?” the lady asked.

“Bryson,” Scarlett told her. “Bryson Taylor.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“He’s the director.”

“Oh, right. I don’t have any idea. I’m just a
lowly production assistant. Sorry.”

She laughed and walked off before Scarlett
could say anything else.

After wandering around for another few
minutes, she spotted Bryson, surrounded by
a crowd of people, over by a merry-go-round.
There was a large amount of equipment be-
ing set up nearby; lights, scaffolding, camer-
as, monitors, sound equipment. Technical
people were arguing and yelling.

Bryson was at the center of it all, studying
some binder that he was holding while

45/257

people appeared to just scream questions at
him. Sometimes he would respond, other
times he seemed to just ignore everyone.

Scarlett squeezed her way through the crowd
of people. As she got closer to Bryson, the
throng tightened, making it more difficult to
move. “Excuse me, I need to speak to the dir-
ector,” she muttered, elbowing her way
through the very last line of defense.

Bryson turned at the last second and saw
her. His expression brightened. “Hey, you
made it.”

“And I brought you something hot and
warm.” She held up the coffee.

“Oh, right. Thanks.” He nodded to a small
table nearby. “You can set it right there next
to the others. Apparently they have some PA
do a coffee run every morning.

46/257

Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He went back to look-
ing at his binder.

“Oh. Okay.” She went and put the coffee
down. It was identical to the one that was
already there on the table.

Nothing could have made her feel more use-
less than she did at that very moment.

“Bryson, we’re set up for the shot,” a
heavyset balding man said. “We’ve got to get
this started in the next ten or fifteen minutes
if we want to stay on track.”

“I know,” Bryson told him. “Has anyone seen
Eliza or Dale?”

“Eliza’s barricaded in her trailer,” a mousy
woman said. “She says she needs time.”

Bryson looked up from his binder with a
tense expression. “What’s the problem?”

47/257

The mousy woman shrugged. “She didn’t
say. I didn’t ask.”

“We really need to get started,” the heavyset
man said again.

“Gary, we heard you the first time,” the
mousy woman shot back.

“Someone has to try and keep us on sched-
ule, Ellen.”

“There’s nothing any of us can do about it.”

Gary smirked. “There is something we can do
about it. We can start shooting.”

Bryson looked at Ellen. “What do you
suggest?”

“Eliza’s notorious for this kind of thing. I
think your best bet is to give her twenty
minutes to cool off. She’ll come around on
her own. She’s a professional.”

48/257

Gary rolled his eyes. “Okay, so we’re all going
to be professional. I’m going to start setting
up for the next shot so we can make up for
the delay.” He stalked off.

Bryson sighed. “Here we go,” he muttered.

“How can I help?” Scarlett said.

He glanced up at her. “You can help by not
asking me a million questions.”

His words were a slap in her face. “Okay,
sure,” she said. “Sorry for caring.”

He looked at her again and softened. “I
didn’t mean it that way, Scarlett. It’s just—I
never realized how many questions I would
be asked. It’s non-stop. I can’t think, I can
hardly have a two-minute conversation
without—”

“Bryson!” someone yelled, as if on cue.

49/257

He looked over, annoyed. “Yeah?”

“Did you want the blue gels or the green gels
for this scene?”

He closed his eyes briefly before answering.
“Blue.”

“But aren’t we using blue more for the break-
up scenes?”

“You’re right. Let’s use the green gels,”
Bryson yelled back.

“I’ll stay out of the way,” Scarlett said, turn-
ing on her heel to walk away.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling
her toward him. “You couldn’t be in my way
if you tried.”

But just the same, with so much commotion
around him, Scarlett decided to move out of
the fray.

50/257

She walked around the amusement park,
most of which was empty and almost desol-
ate. The ferris wheel sat still and tall, like an
ancient dinosaur skeleton—towering into the
air above her, unmoving. The signs leading
to other rides and games were almost eerie
in the early morning gloom.

The Hall of Mirrors, Shooting Range, Ar-
cade, all of the structures quiet and empty of
children or parents. But Scarlett could ima-
gine them in the past, running here and
there, squealing with delight, eating cotton
candy and drinking soda.

She wandered for perhaps forty minutes be-
fore circling back towards the merry-go-
rounds. The scene was much as it had been
when she first got there, so Scarlett walked
out to the parking lot and the trailers that
were sitting just outside the park. One of the
trailers was probably Dale Nolan’s, and she
suspected the other was Eliza Johnston’s.

51/257

There were smaller circles of people wander-
ing about the area.

One woman wearing a headset stood outside
the nearest trailer. She looked weary and
harassed. When she saw Scarlett, her eyes
widened. “Please tell me they sent you to talk
to her.”

Scarlett paused. “To talk to Eliza?”

“Yeah. Someone needs to, and it seems like
they’re all too afraid. Every minute she sits in
that trailer is costing this production thou-
sands of dollars.”

“I don’t know if I should be the one to try,”
Scarlett said. She could just imagine what a
disaster that would be. Her, trying to talk to
Eliza Johnston? It wasn’t her place.

“Who are you? What do you do here?” the
woman demanded.

52/257

“Um, I work with Bryson. I’m his assistant.”

“You’re Bryson Taylor’s assistant? Perfect.
Go on, go try and talk to her.”

Scarlett tried to protest, but the woman was
pushing her toward the door of the trailer. If
she made things worse, Bryson would be
furious. At the same time, it seemed she
could hardly make things worse than they
already were.

“Okay, I’ll give it a shot,” she said, gearing
herself up for what was to come.

“Good luck,” the woman said, in a tone that
implied Scarlett would need it. “Just remem-
ber, she’s in a very fragile state.”

Fragile state? Great.

The woman stepped out of her way as Scar-
lett walked up the steps to the trailer door.

53/257

She felt like a lamb walking into a slaughter.
How stupid was this?

Still, at least she was trying to actually “do”
something. She didn’t want to spend the en-
tire day standing around, feeling like she was
an annoyance.

She took a deep breath and knocked three
times.

“Come in,” a soft voice called from inside the
trailer.

When she opened the door and walked in,
Scarlett was surprised to find that it wasn’t
all the glamorous for a famous movie star’s
trailer. It was small, with a tiny couch, a few
chairs, a little kitchenette that only a small
teenager

could

maneuver

within

comfortably.

54/257

Eliza was sitting on one of the chairs, reading
a magazine. She looked up and saw Scarlett.
“I know you,” she said, matter-of-factly. “You
were at the club with Bryson when he
punched Dale.”

“I’m Scarlett Evers.” She smiled.

“I can imagine why you’re here.” Eliza stood
up and walked to the counter, where she un-
screwed the cap from a bottle of Evian water.

“I just thought I’d come by and see how
you’re doing. Is everything all right?”

Eliza sipped from her bottled water. “Hon-
estly? I’m not doing that well, Scarlett.

Not that well at all.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure what to say next. She de-
bated asking more questions, but decided

55/257

not to push her luck. So she just stayed quiet.
In the end, that seemed to work.

Eliza turned and looked at her with a steady
gaze. “Do you have something in your past
that you wish you just could forget about
forever?”

Scarlett wanted to laugh. This woman had no
idea who she was talking to, did she? “Yes, I
think I might have one or two things.”

“Well, so do I.” Eliza looked into the dis-
tance. “So do I.”

“So I wake up today and my asshole PR per-
son forwards me this story some dumb-fuck
journalist wrote about me. And that thing I
wish would just go away, it’s right there star-
ing at me. And nobody cares. Nobody gives a
shit that it’s eating me up inside. It’s just—go
to work, Eliza. Act, even though you want to

56/257

run about a million miles away and just bury
your head in the sand.”

“That’s horrible,” Scarlett said, even though
she wasn’t quite sure what the woman was
talking about.

“The fucking tabloids are bad enough, but
then it’s also the thousands of comments un-
derneath the articles. Do these fucking
people not realize that I sometimes read
their shitty, nasty comments? It’s inhuman,
the way they treat people.”

Scarlett was getting lost, but she thought it
best to just appear to be empathetic to the
situation. “I can’t imagine how you deal with
the scrutiny.”

Eliza nodded. “On top of all of that, they
didn’t get Mary Louise the way they prom-
ised me they would.”

57/257

“Who’s Mary Louise?” Scarlett asked, even
more confused now.

“She’s done my hair and makeup on the last
two films I’ve done and she’s like my therap-
ist or something. I needed her today. I
needed her and all I got was some random
guy who talks nonstop about Cher and Jane
Fonda. That’s not the kind of person I need
right now, you know?”

“That sounds hard,” Scarlett said, trying not
to roll her eyes at what seemed like a particu-
larly petty complaint from the superstar
actress.

“It is hard. I’m practically losing my mind
here.”

“The pressure must get to you after awhile,”
Scarlett said, just to say something.

58/257

Eliza raised her eyebrows. “The pressure?
No, it doesn’t get to me. I love pressure.” She
stood up and put her hands on her hips.
“How do you think I got where I am?”

For a moment, it was as though she had be-
come larger than life in that tiny trailer.

There was an intensity to her gaze and her
stance that was so dramatic that Scarlett felt
absolutely small in comparison. She’d never
been in the presence of someone who could
so quickly alter their appearance and de-
meanor, as if Eliza were some kind of real
life witch.

It was almost creepy how electric and mag-
netic this woman was, Scarlett thought.

“I suppose you got where you are because
you work hard,” she offered.

59/257

Eliza broke into hearty laughter. “That’s
good, Scarlett. That’s very good. I like you. I
really do.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure that the sentiment was
very genuine. Actually, she wasn’t sure that
anything about Eliza Johnston was genuine.
It was hard to tell what was performance and
what was reality.

Just then, there was a knock on the trailer
door.

Eliza turned. “Who is it?”

“It’s Bryson,” came the muffled voice.

Scarlett froze. She didn’t imagine he’d be too
pleased when he saw her there.

“We’ve been honored by a visit from the man
himself,” Eliza whispered conspiratorially to

60/257

Scarlett. “He must really be worried.” She
winked.

“Well, we are running a bit late,” Scarlett
murmured.

Eliza didn’t seem to hear her. “Come on in!”
she yelled, turning and walking back to the
kitchenette. She was dressed in a long robe,
cinched closed and her hair was flowing and
gorgeous. She looked like a movie star. She
smelled like a movie star.

Everything about her was sensual and
provocative.

The trailer door opened and Bryson slowly
came inside, looking like he thought he
might be shot as he came through the door.

When he saw Scarlett, his eyes hardened.
“Hey,” he said, obviously surprised to see her
there.

61/257

She knew she had some explaining to do. “I
just came inside because—”

“Scarlett was kind enough to stop in and
check on me when nobody else gave a shit,”
Eliza told him loudly. Her tone was slightly
accusing, as if she’d expected the director
himself to come and coax her out of her trail-
er. Maybe that’s what she’d been hoping for,
what she’d been waiting for. Maybe that was
how things were supposed to work.

“Oh?” Bryson folded his arms. “Well, that
was nice of her.” He smiled, but the smile
didn’t reach his eyes.

Eliza looked at him. “It was nice. I’ve been
having a really rough time.” Her face trans-
formed from the beguiling movie star into a
young, confused girl. “The Post wrote an art-
icle about how I was a bully in high school.
I’m at my wits end.”

62/257

Bryson looked concerned. “Did they make
stuff up?”

“What if they did?”

“I’d put in a call to Max Weisman. So-
mething tells me he could wrangle us up a
high-powered attorney if we need one.”

Eliza smiled, as if to herself. She looked
down, demure now. “No, I don’t need a law-
yer. That’s sweet of you, Bryson.”

Bryson sat down beside Scarlett but didn’t
look at her. Instead, he focused all of his at-
tention on Eliza. “What can I do to help? I
want to do whatever you need to make things
easier today.”

“You mean it?”

63/257

“Of course I mean it. You’re talking to an A-
List director, here. Haven’t you heard? I can
move mountains.”

Eliza giggled. “It’s fun being A-List, isn’t it?
Didn’t I tell you it would be, that first day we
met?”

Bryson grinned. “You certainly did.”

Scarlett’s stomach tightened. She felt as
though she’d slowly faded out of existence as
the two of them began talking. Neither of
them were so much as glancing in Scarlett’s
direction. Their eyes were glued to each oth-
er, and there was a definite feeling of chem-
istry between the two of them that made her
skin crawl. It was like she was in a movie,
and Eliza and Bryson were in full Technicol-
or, while Scarlett was fading to black and
white.

64/257

Eliza reveled in the attention—that much
was clear.

The beautiful actress sat down in a folding
chair and her knees were probably three
inches from Bryson’s as they continued
talking.

For Scarlett, the world had gone quiet. She
heard ringing in her ears, and it occurred to
her that she was having some kind of PTSD
thing. It was her childhood all over again.

That sense of being ignored, of being there
but somehow not there all at once—it made
her feel insane. She was starting to sweat and
her heart was racing.

Her stomach pitched and rolled.

Meanwhile Bryson and Eliza were talking,
then laughing, their hands moving, her
hands practically touching his knee.

65/257

If she touches him I’ll scream, Scarlett
thought.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t
take seeing Bryson shamelessly flirt with this
beautiful movie actress right in front of her
face.

“I’m going to grab a smoke if it’s okay,” Scar-
lett mumbled, standing up awkwardly.

The two of them looked at her.

Bryson nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you out
there?”

“Yeah.” Scarlett started for the door.

“Nice chatting with you,” Eliza called out.

And then Scarlett was out in the fresh air,
and she was running behind the trailer and
getting sick.

66/257

Her stomach lurched and she threw up. She
hadn’t eaten breakfast, so there wasn’t much
that came up. She wiped her chin and took a
few deep, ragged breaths.

Next thing she knew, she was crying silently,
shaking.

It wasn’t about Bryson and Eliza.

The whole thing had been triggered by them
ignoring her, yes, but she knew her violent
reaction was mostly about her past.

Images of her family sitting around the din-
ner table, talking, laughing, all the while ig-
noring her—those old films ran through her
head on a loop. All the pain came back, and
she remembered those same feelings of
isolation.

It’s okay, she told herself. It’s okay. You’re
an adult. It’s not like that anymore.

67/257

But it had felt like that. The sense of turning
invisible, of disappearing—it made her want
to turn and run. Maybe Seth would still take
her back if she went and begged him for her
waitressing job.

It’s just a moment. You’ve had moments like
this before and you’ve gotten over them.

Still, she was shaky and anxious. She took
out her pack of cigarettes and, with trem-
bling fingers, removed one, putting it
between her lips. By the time she’d lit it and
drawn the first plume of smoke into her
lungs, she was already calming down.

Cigarettes were so bad, so horrible, and yet
they did serve to calm her nerves.

That’s why she still wasn’t able to quit, des-
pite knowing that if she didn’t stop, they’d
eventually kill her.

68/257

She smoked one and then started the next,
when she heard the door to the trailer open-
ing again. Bryson’s voice was clear and loud
from around the corner. “We’ll start shooting
in five, then?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be out in two seconds,” Eliza
called.

“I’ll walk you over,” Bryson replied.

“How chivalrous.” There was a giggle, and
then the door slammed shut.

Scarlett wanted to go and talk to him, see
him, be reassured that he still cared.

She wanted to see his eyes and know that he
could still look at her the way he had just
yesterday. But something stopped her just
then.

69/257

What stopped her, she realized, was that she
wouldn’t have been able to bear it if he’d
done what she thought he might do—which
is to barely even give her a second glance.
She thought her heart might just shatter if he
did that.

And so she stayed behind the trailer, feeling
very much like a coward, as a moment later
she heard Eliza come out and the two of
them presumably walked back to the set
together.

Scarlett followed them over to the merry-go-
round, where the first scene of the day was
taking place. She stayed far enough behind
them, that it wasn’t likely either would notice
her.

When they arrived at the set-up, it was a true
madhouse. People were running left and
right, shouting orders, scurrying about like

70/257

nothing she’d ever seen before. She stayed
out of everyone’s way and just watched.

Bryson was conferring with a few different
people and then it seemed they were getting
ready to start shooting.

Eliza took her place in front of the camera.
Lights were shining on her from three direc-
tions. Someone held a large microphone (ap-
parently they called it a boom mike) just over
her head and out of the camera’s frame.

Eliza did enjoy the pressure and the atten-
tion, as it turned out. She hadn’t been lying
when she’d stood in the trailer and bragged
about it to Scarlett. She seemed to grow
taller and glow under the lights and the gazes
of everyone watching her.

“Quiet on the set!” Someone yelled.

71/257

Now, after all the noise that had ratcheted up
to a near frenzy, there was total and utter
silence.

“Bridge and Tunnel, scene one, take one!”
someone else shouted.

There was a clapping noise. “Action,” Bryson
called out, and then Eliza started talking. She
was alone in this scene. Scarlett remembered
it well from the script. Films, it turned out,
were shot very much out of sequence. This
was from later in the movie, when the two
main characters had already gotten together,
broken up and then gotten back together
once more.

Eliza spoke a few lines, got on the merry-go-
round and looked wistfully at the camera.
The whole thing took all of about one minute
from start to finish.

“Cut!” Bryson yelled.

72/257

Eliza got off the merry-go-round and was im-
mediately being attended to by her makeup
person and stylist. As the stylist talked and
worked, Scarlett wondered if he was saying
something about Cher or Jane Fonda. Eliza
seemed happy enough with him now, so
whatever he was saying to her must be just
fine.

Probably because Bryson had made her feel
listened to and appreciated, Scarlett thought.
Scarlett knew how Bryson could suddenly
turn his attention on you and just make you
feel like the most special person in the world.

And then, when he withdrew that attention,
it was like going from a warm summer’s day
to freezing in an arctic night.

That’s how Scarlett felt for the rest of the
day, actually. She felt frozen out of
everything, discarded, afraid to even go to

73/257

Bryson and ask him if he needed help with
anything.

He was so busy all of the time, surrounded
by people asking him questions, talking to
Dale Nolan or Eliza Johnston—Scarlett just
stayed out of the way. She’d become invisible
again.

In a way, it was all too familiar and easy to
fall back into this trap. She wandered around
the amusement park like a ghost. During
lunch, she sat away from everyone, nibbling
on a soggy tuna sandwich and watching as
Bryson sat at the “cool kids” table with Dale
and Eliza and their inner circle of friends.

They were all laughing and talking like they
were sitting on the quad together—

all the most popular jocks with their cheer-
leader girlfriends. Which, Scarlett supposed,

74/257

would make Bryson the popular jock and El-
iza his cheerleader girlfriend.

Scarlett could see, even from a distance, the
way Eliza was constantly looking at Bryson,
talking to him, like all she cared about was
him. And Bryson was holding court -

- he was the one that everyone wanted to be
around and be with.

And that, she supposed, made her the
strange outcast who yearned for the atten-
tion of the popular boy but never quite got it.

She hadn’t felt this way in a long, long time.
Since adulthood, men had given her plenty
of attention, even if much of it had been un-
wanted, inappropriate or unhealthy.

Still, it was attention and it wasn’t often that
she felt undeserving or unable to get a man
to look twice at her.

75/257

This was a whole new game, though. People
like Eliza Johnston were beautiful and mag-
netic and powerful—Eliza had qualities that
made Scarlett feel like she was a teenager
again, like she was nothing and nobody.

It hurt. It hurt more than she expected.

***

She fell asleep almost immediately after get-
ting home that evening, exhaustion overcom-
ing her after she’d taken her shower and got-
ten into panties and a t-shirt.

Scarlett hadn’t even had time to eat a light
dinner or watch some TV. She’d been mean-
ing to watch one of those light-hearted Kate
Hudson romances that made her feel like the
world was a friendlier place than the one she
currently inhabited.

76/257

Instead, she fell asleep on the couch and
then woke up to the sound of her buzzer
buzzing incessantly.

She sat up, catching her breath. In her
dreams, the buzzer had taken the form of an
angry beehive that she’d disturbed, sending a
swarm of nasty bees out to get her.

“What the hell,” Scarlett gasped, trying to
steady her nerves.

The buzzer shrilly buzzed yet again. She got
up and walked to the intercom.

What if it was Trevor, coming to get revenge?

But Scarlett knew that if Trevor was coming
to get her, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to
just buzz her apartment.

“Hello?” she said, keeping her voice neutral.

“It’s Bryson.”

77/257

She backed away from the intercom as if
stung. What was he doing here at this time of
night?

“You woke me up,” she said.

“Let me in.”

She hesitated. It was so late. Whatever he
was here for, she didn’t think it could be any-
thing good for either of them. “I don’t think
it’s a good idea,” she said.

“Just give me five minutes. Scarlet, please.”

She took a deep breath. “Fine, Bryson. But
only five minutes. I’m serious.”

She buzzed him in, going quickly to her room
and pulling on a pair of jeans before he
knocked at the door.

When she answered the door to her apart-
ment, Bryson was standing there in

78/257

sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He looked like
he’d been running or something.

“What’s going on?” she said, letting him in.

He walked by her into the apartment.

“You didn’t answer any of my calls,” he said,
looking around. “Nice place, by the way.”

“Thanks. Hunter’s paying my rent here,” she
said.

He turned to face her, his eyes flashing in the
dim light of the apartment. “Hunter pays
your rent?”

She liked seeing him jealous, finally. “Yeah,
he does.” She met his gaze without flinching.

“That’s a little strange.”

79/257

She shrugged. “Not to me, it isn’t. And hon-
estly, I don’t really care if you think it’s
strange.”

“Whatever.” He shook his head as if trying to
forget what she’d just told him.

“The point is that I needed to talk to you.
Why did you ignore my calls?”

“Because I fell asleep early. I was tired.”

“Oh.” He sighed. He looked troubled. “You
seem angry with me.”

“I really have nothing to say to you unless it’s
work-related.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Bryson. You’re just perfect. You’re so
amazing. What do you want me to say?”

80/257

He stepped toward her. “Say what you feel,
Scarlett.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t feel anything.”

He sighed. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, believe it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You’re violating our agreement. We said
this would be professional. I think you
should go now, before you make it even
worse.”

He was staring intently at her, trying to read
her emotions from her face, but she was sure
to give nothing away.

“Fine, I’ll go. If that’s what you really want.”

She didn’t respond.

81/257

He stepped closer still. The heat from his
body seemed to envelop her, and his blue
eyes were taking her in, paralyzing her in
some way. “Is this really what you want?”

he said, moving even closer.

She wanted him.

She wanted him so badly, and it hurt. It was
sweet relief that he’d come for her, that she
knew he hadn’t truly forgotten her despite
the way he’d acted on set. But she didn’t
think she could just give in like this after how
he’d treated her.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,”
she whispered, her eyes meeting his.

She felt liquid and soft, as his hands reached
out and grabbed her arms firmly.

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“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he
whispered back, and then his mouth was on
hers again.

She’d forgotten how badly she wanted him,
how badly she needed him, until this very
moment. It was as if she’d been walking in
the desert all day, and suddenly the heavens
opened up and the rains were pouring down.
She was covered in water, covered com-
pletely by his love, by his touch and his taste.
She was lost in it, lost in everything Bryson
did to her.

His hands were so firm and strong, holding
her against the wall as his mouth tasted hers,
his tongue touched hers, his lips pressing,
greedily. Wanting more.

She wanted more too.

She closed her eyes, moaning, and then
opened them to find him looking at her.

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When their eyes locked, it was as if he was
speaking to her directly, his thoughts and
wants and needs and fears laid out as plain
as if he’d said them aloud.

His eyes told her that he wanted her as badly
as she wanted him, that he missed her touch
as much as she missed his.

For whatever reason, he hadn’t shown it dur-
ing the shoot that day.

But here he was, his body hungering for hers.

“Scarlett,” he breathed, pausing, looking
down at her. Then his lips were hot against
her neck, kissing down further to her collar-
bone. His hands pressed her arms against
the wall.

Soon, he’d begun kissing the top of her
breasts, and then his hands were pulling her

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shirt down. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and
her nipples were stiff with urgent need.

He was sucking on them now, his mouth hot
and wet, moving with rhythmic persistence.

“Fuck,” she swore, unable to control the viol-
ent tremor that ran through her entire body
as his lips pressed once more against her
hardened nipple.

He paused for a moment, teasing her, then
dove back to her breasts, sucking them and
ripping her t-shirt down so that her torso
was almost completely exposed.

She ran her hands through his hair, gasping
and writhing as his teeth nipped at her
breasts. She was wet between her legs now,
practically soaking through her jeans.

“We have to stop,” she said. She pulled away
from him, fixing her shirt. The collar was

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stretched out so much that it was almost im-
possible to cover her breasts, but she did her
best.

“Why?” he asked, eyeing her like a hunter
eyes its prey.

She walked past him, trying to pull her
thoughts together. “Because I work for you.
And because I don’t like being treated like
some kind of sex toy.”

“Sex toy?”

She steadied her breathing. “Do you know
what I did all day today?” she asked him.

He sighed and folded his arms. “No. I kind of
had my hands full today in case you didn’t
notice, Scarlett.”

“I spent half of the day wandering around
the amusement park by myself, and the

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afternoon helping some PA run errands for
Eliza and Dale and anyone else who asked.”

He looked at her evenly. “I’m sorry I didn’t
give you more to do. This was the first day of
shooting, Scarlett. I’m barely keeping my
head above water, here.”

“I know that. Both of us are barely keeping
our heads above water.” She held onto the
collar of her shirt, hiking it up so that her
breasts weren’t so clearly showing anymore.
“Do you really think that two drowning
people should be clinging to one another?”

He came towards her again. “I think that’s
exactly what drowning people do.

They cling to each other.” He grabbed her
arms again. “They hold onto one another and
don’t let go. Because that’s the best chance of
survival.” His eyes stared into hers again.

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Her resistance started to weaken. Just the
feel of his hands on her arms made her
moisten, yearning for his hands, his skin, his
lips and tongue again. “Are you trying to play
games with me, Bryson? Does that kind of
thing get you off?”

His expression darkened. “No. Does it get
you off?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what does get you off then?”

“Everything you do to me,” she admitted.

He smiled slyly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I think you know exactly what the problem
is.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I just don’t fucking
care.” And then he was ripping at her shirt
again. This time he actually tore it down the

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middle, so that it hung open like some cheap
vest. He began licking her nipples again. His
teeth would sometimes close on them mo-
mentarily, digging in just enough to cause a
slight spike of pain—but it was brief. She
cried out, mostly in pleasure.

His hands were on her waist, pulling her
close to him.

His tongue and lips on her nipples were
stimulating them so much that she was
about to come, just like he’d done to her the
first time they’d been together.

Her breath came out in shuddering, quiver-
ing gasps.

“You like this, Scarlett. You like it and yet
you fight it for some reason.” He smiled.
“But that’s okay. I like it when you fight.”

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He suddenly unzipped her jeans, dropping
down to his knees as she stood there, unable
to resist what he was doing.

Bryson’s breath was hot against her lace
panties, and for a time he just seemed to be
looking at what was in front of him.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” he whispered. “I can
fucking smell you—it’s sweet and I remem-
ber how good you tasted. I couldn’t stop
thinking about how fucking good you tasted
last time. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” she said. It was true, of course. And
she wanted his mouth on her again, so intim-
ate, so knowledgeable, as if they’d been to-
gether for years.

Somehow, when she and Bryson were to-
gether, it was the best of both worlds.

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She felt simultaneously known, as if they’d
been lovers forever, and then she also felt the
excitement of being with someone new and
mysterious and altogether different than any
man from the past.

Bryson was addictive, she thought, as he
teased her now, using his fingers to gently
slide her panties to the side, enabling him to
see her slick, bare pussy. “Look at that,” he
admired. “Do you want me to lick it,
Scarlett?”

“Yes.” Her legs shook.

He grabbed her jeans and pulled them down
to the floor, around her ankles.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m going to lick
that fucking pussy, Scarlett. I can’t help my-
self.” He pulled the panties aside and then
ever so gently, he touched his tongue to the
very top of her slit.

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“I think I’m going to come,” she cried out. It
was embarrassing, but she certainly couldn’t
hide it from Bryson.

In response, his tongue slid down the length
of her slit, stroking up and down, increasing
the energy that was already flowing through
her pussy.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes,
willing herself not to come yet. He wanted to
make her come fast, he wanted to prove his
total control over her every emotion.

And for some reason, she was determined
not to just roll over and let him know that he
owned her, that she was totally and utterly
powerless to control herself in his presence.

Her will somehow won out. She clenched her
teeth so hard that she got lightheaded, but
the urge to come passed.

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She exhaled, glad to know she still retained
some kind of discipline from all her years in
the BDSM culture.

But Bryson had hardly even begun to work
on her. His tongue swept up and down the
length of her privates, and soon the warmth
and wetness were creating waves of new
pleasure sensations that echoed out through
her entire body.

The moans and groans that escaped her lips
were practically inhuman.

He had begun to suck her pussy, spreading
her lips and fucking her with his tongue. She
spread her legs as wide as she could, but the
jeans were holding her ankles together.
Bryson pulled one of the pant legs loose, al-
lowing her to spread herself as wide as she
needed to.

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Her back and buttocks were pressed hard
against the wall, and she used it for leverage.

She pressed her pelvis towards him, arching
her back, breasts tilting towards the ceiling
as he pulled her into him. His hands gripped
her buttocks, his mouth was working into
her, and she was dripping, she was wet and
he was so good. He was better than any man
she’d ever been with, and he knew her body
as though he’d been given a map.

But before she could come, he stopped. “Get
on your hands and knees,” he commanded.
He pointed to the floor in front of him.

Scarlett’s heart started beating even faster.
Without uttering a word, she did as she was
told, getting down on the cold tile floor. She
was in a frenzy by this point, and nothing
could have made her stop. She wanted him.
She would do anything he asked, as long as

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his mouth and hands would continue to do
to her what they’d been doing.

She waited on her hands and knees. Then
she felt his fingers, sliding in and out of her
from behind. One hand was on her hip, the
other was simultaneously sliding her panties
out of the way, while two fingers entered her,
digging in with controlled urgency.

She moved back against his hand, sliding all
the way onto his fingers, taking them all the
way into herself.

She wanted him inside her now—wanted to
beg for it. But she knew that she might spoil
everything if she talked.

Instead, Scarlett decided that the solution
was to fuck his fingers so well that he would
be unable to resist replacing them with his
cock.

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Swiveling her hips, sliding backwards with
practiced ease, she fucked Bryson’s fingers.
She was wetter than ever now, and sweat had
lubricated her muscles. She was fully in her
element now, letting go of all the worries and
concerns that had plagued her not long ago.

“Scarlett,” Bryson said, after a few minutes of
this. His voice was husky with need. “I’m
taking my dick out, and I’m going to slide it
inside you now. Stay still.”

She heard the unmistakable sounds of
Bryson unbuckling and unzipping. Her heart
was racing, beating so fast she thought it
might explode in her chest.

We’re going to have sex, she thought. Bryson
is going to fuck me on my knees, on the floor
of this little New York apartment at
midnight.

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The thought was surreal. How could they be
doing this after everything that had gone on
between them up until now?

How could she let him do this when she’d
promised herself not to?

But the time for those kinds of questions was
long since passed, and Scarlett knew she
wouldn’t stop it now. She wanted to feel him
so badly, she wanted to know what he was
like. She wanted to experience all of him, in
every way.

Soon, he was placing the tip of his cock
against her opening from behind. He slowly
rubbed it back and forth along her entrance,
allowing her juices to slather on his
hardness.

She heard him moan as he felt her against
him.

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“Don’t move,” he said, his voice strong.

She felt him slip in, and it took her breath
away. She remembered how huge he was,
but now, having him actually inside her—it
was a lot to take. At the same time, the pres-
sure of his huge girth was a turn-on in and of
itself. She spread her legs wider to accom-
modate him, moaning as her muscles gave
way and he slid that much further inside.

Bryson made her feel like a virgin—he made
her feel like she’d never even experienced sex
before. Everything up until now had been
make-believe, and this was real.

He slid the rest of the way in, going slowly
until he had nowhere left to go.

Scarlett was dripping sweat from her fore-
head, her back. Meanwhile, Bryson’s hands
were securely fastened to her hips as he

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began to pull himself out and then slide the
rest of the way in again.

He started slowly, but soon he was moving
faster.

“You’re so incredibly tight,” he told her. One
hand moved from her hip and grabbed her
hair, pulling back on her head as his hips
slammed into her from behind. He slapped
her ass. “Do you like being fucked like this?”
he asked.

“Yes,” she croaked, as he slammed into her
again. He spread her wide open, his cock
touching every fiber of her pussy as he
drilled down and touched her deepest place.

“I know you like this, Scarlett. I knew from
the moment I first touched you that you
needed a strong hand.” He slapped her ass
again, harder this time.

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She gasped. His cock was plunging in and
out of her from behind, arcing inside of her,
and Bryson controlled the tempo perfectly.

Suddenly, he pulled her up off her hands,
pulling her against him so that she was on
her knees but her back was pressed against
Bryson’s chest as he continued to fuck her.

His hands kneaded against her breasts as his
mouth kissed her neck and sucked her
earlobe.

He began whispering in her ear as he fucked
her, his hips pumping against her ass while
his hands held her breasts, tweaking her
erect nipples.

“I want you to come for me now,” he said, his
breath hot against her ear. “Come on my
dick, right now.”

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She moaned, as her entire being shuddered
with sweet anticipation for what was to
come.

His body was strong and warm and glisten-
ing with sweat as he held her and went in
and out of her.

She felt controlled and dominated and yet
somehow, bizarrely, taken care of, all at
once. He was filling her, piling his shaft into
her with quick bursts, and it was serving to
stimulate her clitoris perfectly.

“I’m going to come,” she warned him.

“Come right on my dick,” he said, sliding in
one more time. That proved to be the time
that set her off.

She climaxed like never before, her arms
straining, her nails scraping along his torso
as she tried to pull him even closer into her.

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She wanted to wrap him around her like a
blanket.

“You came good for me, baby,” he told her.
“Now, lay down on your back.”

She lied down on her back, as he told her to.
The tile floor was hard and cold against her
damp skin. Bryson looked at her, his nostrils
flaring. In the semi-darkness, he looked al-
most feral, wilder.

Scarlett wondered what he would do to her
now. Whatever it was, she would let him do
it. She was willing to take him into her
mouth, to let him put his cock between her
tits, anything.

He stripped his shirt and pants off, and she
had time to admire his sinewy, strong biceps,
his legs, his six-pack abs that looked like
something from a workout video. If these
women on set ever saw what Bryson looked

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like with his shirt off, they’d probably never
stop throwing themselves at him.

As it was, he already seemed to have made a
strong impression on one of the most beauti-
ful women in the world—Eliza Johnston.

Put her out of your mind, Scarlett, she told
herself. Why would you spend even a second
of this amazing night thinking about that
woman?

Bryson must have noticed her mind was else-
where. “Hey,” he said. “Come back to me.”

She brought her gaze back to his. When their
eyes connected, she felt like there was
nowhere else on earth that she’d rather be
than here, right now, at this moment.

And as he lowered his muscular body onto
hers, she was complete and completely
taken.

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This time, as he slid his hardness into her
opening, there was a sense of total
fulfillment.

He’s making love to me, she thought, with a
shudder up and down her spine. It was deli-
cious, and slow, and his eyes never left hers.
“Scarlett,” he breathed.

Now he was kissing her, his mouth full, and
she could taste her own sex, and although
normally that wasn’t her thing—tasting it on
him was something else. She knew how
much he wanted her, could feel the want and
need in his skin, in the way he touched her,
in the movement of his hips.

“I’m coming again,” she cried out.

“Come for me,” he said.

She did come for him, and as she arched into
his body, he began sliding more and more

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quickly in and out of her, and then with a
groan of intense pleasure, he came too.

She looked up at him. His chest was heaving
as he pulled away and sat down beside her.

They were quiet for a time.

She was starting to come back to her senses
and she wondered just what the hell she’d
been thinking, getting intimate with Bryson
after everything that had gone on up until
now.

But then something unexpected occurred.
Bryson took her hand in his.

She looked at him and he was smiling. “Don’t
be afraid of me, okay?” he whispered softly.

“I’ll try,” she whispered back, smiling now in
return.

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They got up and went to the bedroom. Scar-
lett freshened up, put on a pair of shorts and
a t-shirt, and then got into bed next to him.
Bryson was in his boxers and nothing else.
He pulled her close to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his lips close to
her ear. He stroked her hair.

She put her head on his chest and her hand
on his stomach, listening to his calm and
steady heartbeat. “I’m okay,” she said, even-
tually. The truth wasn’t quite so simple, but
what was she really going to say to that
question?

“What about you?” she asked him. “Are you
okay with this?”

“More than okay.”

“You’re hot and cold,” she said.

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“I guess I’ve heard that one before.”

“I’m not really in the mood to have someone
mess with my head again. I’ve been there
and done that, Bryson.”

“You mean Hunter?”

She laughed. “Hunter isn’t really of huge
consequence in my life, you know.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She looked up, trying to see if he was angry,
but it was too dark to tell. “Are you being ser-
ious? You know Hunter is deeply and madly
in love with Kallie.”

“He’s still paying your rent.”

She sat up. “And what—you think he comes
here and fucks me sometimes? And I do it
because he pays my rent?”

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“I never said that, Scarlett. Now come here.”
He grabbed her hand again and pulled her
back down. “You’re so damn testy.”

“I wonder why.”

“Just enjoy this, why don’t you? Just enjoy
being together. Stop trying to control
everything and figure me out. If I don’t even
understand me, I can’t see how you’re going
to figure me out anytime soon.”

She realized then that Bryson was right.
There was nothing he could say and nothing
she could do to make herself completely okay
with what had happened between them. In-
stead, she decided to relax and just be with
him, her head on his chest, listening to his
heartbeat and feeling his warm, strong arms
encircling her.

Soon, despite her worried and anxious mind,
she managed to fall asleep.

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Later on, she awoke and rolled onto her side,
and Bryson turned and molded himself
against her, his arms around her once more.
She was half-asleep, but even then she was
able to notice and smile before fading com-
pletely to unconsciousness once more.

When she woke up again, light was stream-
ing in through the windows of her bedroom
and Bryson was gone. She looked around for
him, thinking perhaps he went to the bath-
room or something.

Then she found her phone and saw that he’d
sent her a text about two hours ago: S orry I
have to go. I got a call from Dale Nolan and
didn’t want to wake u. He insisted I come
see him right away. I will see u later. Please
don’t turn this into something to worry
about Scarlett. J?

***

109/257

She saw him again on set that day.

Her stomach was tight and uncomfortable as
she waited for his reaction when he saw her
again. But he smiled naturally, and his eyes
were kind.

Internally, she sighed with relief.

They were filming the last of the scenes from
the amusement park and this time they were
setting up near one of those shooting gallery
games. There were extras playing carnival
workers and people bustling about getting
Eliza ready for her shot. As usual, she looked
beautiful and bigger than life.

But at least for a moment, Bryson took time
away from the demands of his job and talked
to Scarlett. “I’m going to need your help
today,” he said softly.

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“Okay, just tell me what you need.” She
grinned.

He grinned back, but his eyes had dark
circles beneath them and it was obvious he
was operating on very little sleep. “Dale’s
having some…difficulty figuring out how he
wants to play his role. Sort of a crisis of con-
fidence, I guess.”

She looked around for Dale, but didn’t see
him anywhere. “Where is he?”

“Not sure. We aren’t using him until the next
scene. But the thing is, I’ve got my hands full
so I’ll be depending on you a lot today. Are
you up for that?”

“Absolutely.” Her cheeks blazed as she took
in what he was saying. This was Bryson
telling her she had his trust. It meant the
world to her, after last night.

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“Good,” he smiled. He softly touched her
arm and then turned back to his work.

***

She was by Bryson’s side for the rest of the
day. She did everything from running inter-
ference with the frantic director of photo-
graphy to getting on the phone with Max
Weisman to reassure him that they were
slowly but surely getting back on schedule.

People didn’t like it when they were forced to
speak to Scarlett instead of Bryson, but they
accepted it. And in a way, she thought, it
seemed to calm someone like Max Weisman.
At the end of their conversation, after mut-
tering about his being treated like the kid
nobody wants at their birthday party, Max
laughed. “Maybe Bryson’s just getting the
hang of this asshole director gig,” he said.

“I think you’re right,” Scarlett told him.

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“Well then, you make sure he stays on
course,” Max said. It was a strangely kind
thing for the loud, boisterous producer to say
to her.

The only negatives were that Bryson was of-
ten having to go speak to both Dale and Eliza
in their trailers. Dale was apparently having
some bizarre crisis of confidence (which
everyone seemed to think was normal at this
stage of filming), whereas Eliza was simply
needy.

Not only was Eliza needy, but when she was
around Scarlett, she tended to ignore Scarlett
with what felt like pointed indifference.

By the time they stopped filming for the day,
they were only a scene behind schedule,
which worked out to just a few hours. Every-
one agreed this was quite a good showing for
Bryson’s first couple of days on set.

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Bryson asked Scarlett to share a cab to the
train when the day was finished. She was
happy and surprised to be asked. He didn’t
seem to care what anyone thought of it,
either.

As they drove to the station, Bryson let his
body relax into the back seat, his eyes closing
momentarily. “I almost thought I wasn’t go-
ing to make it at one point,” he said.

She looked at him, a little anxious at seeing
how tired he was. “When was the last time
you got more than four or five hours of
sleep?”

He opened his eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Bryson. I’m serious.”

He laughed. “Four hours of uninterrupted
sleep sounds like a fucking vacation to me.”
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Think about

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what’s happened to me since Kallie and
Hunter took on my screenplay. I went from
some nobody bartender to getting a produc-
tion deal overnight, to directing a big budget
film with two of the biggest names in Holly-
wood…Hunter was shot, I was taken off the
film, then put back on the film. People were
out to get me. I had to figure out everything
from scratch, and get things done in a time-
frame that is almost impossible for even the
most veteran directors.”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” Scarlett said, seeing
the exhaustion in every line of his face.

“And now that filming’s begun, I can’t ever
sleep because the wheels never stop turning.
All night long, I think about the issues, the
problems I need to solve, the worries, the
complaints, the constant questions I face
throughout the day. The last few nights I’ve
probably slept less than four or five hours
total.”

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“Bryson, that’s crazy. If you keep up like this,
you’re going to crash and it won’t be pretty.”

He nodded, and his eyes drooped. “I caught a
couple of hours last night with you.

That was amazing. Probably the most re-
laxed I’ve been in weeks.”

“You want to come over again tonight?” she
said, immediately regretting it as the words
came out of her mouth. She told herself it
wasn’t just a sexual thing – she wanted to
protect him, wanted to take care of him, to
make sure he was safe and relaxed.

Bryson’s eyes widened. “Well, the thing is—“

She interrupted him, not even wanting to
hear his rejection. She was already embar-
rassed enough. The invitation had just come
out -- she hadn’t even really meant it.

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“No, no, it’s a dumb idea. I just felt bad that
you can’t sleep. But I have so much going on
myself,” she lied. “Tonight’s no good.”

He nodded. “Sure. I understand.”

Now she felt like maybe she’d offended him.
Scarlett cursed herself for being so panicky
and flaky. She should have either never made
the offer, or just stuck to it and not worried
about his saying yes or no.

But now the car ride was awkward and she
wasn’t even completely sure why.

When they got to the train station, they sat in
more silence, and then again on the train.
The two of them sat next to one another.
Bryson nodded off for most of the way to the
city.

Scarlett wondered if he really even felt any-
thing for her. The look on his face when

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she’d asked him to come over again—it made
her almost physically ill to remember it. He’d
been cornered, trying to think of a way to get
out of it without hurting her feelings.

Why do I have to become co-dependent with
every man I get involved with? she
wondered.

When they reached Grand Central, the two of
them were going different ways.

Bryson gave her a big hug. “Thanks for being
my rock today,” he said in her ear.

His body felt warm and strong and amazing.
And then the hug was over and Bryson was
walking away from her.

A few minutes later, while she was trying to
catch a cab back to her apartment, Scarlett
got a call from an unknown number. There
was that familiar thrill of fear as she

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wondered what ghost from her past might be
reappearing to torment her.

But then she fought through the paranoia
and answered.

“Hi, is this Scarlett?” a woman’s voice asked.

“This is.”

“Hi, this is Kallie’s friend, Nicole Jameson.”

“Oh…” She was surprised, not sure what this
could be about.

“Sorry, I know this must come as a surprise.
I hope I’m not bothering you?”

“Not at all,” Scarlett said. “Not at all, please.”

Nicole laughed good-naturedly. “So, I’ll just
get right to the point, Scarlett. I know how
much Kallie likes you and I’m trying to find

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someone who knows Kallie to help me plan a
wedding shower for her.”

“Oh,” Scarlett said, suddenly realizing what
was going on. “That’s a great idea! I wish I’d
thought to do it.”

“I’m glad you think it’s a good idea, because
I’m still wondering myself.”

“I’m sure she’ll be flattered you took the time
to throw her a party,” Scarlett told her.

Nicole was quiet for a bit. Then she sighed on
the other end. “The thing that makes it a
little more confusing is that Kallie and I have
a bit of tension between us. She thinks I’m
very angry at her, because she stopped work-
ing as my nanny.”

“Well she’s never said anything but great
things about you,” Scarlett said. And that
much was true. She’d heard Kallie mention

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on more than one occasion how Red and
Nicole had treated her like family.

“That’s nice to hear. And I do love her very
much. I want to show her that there’s no
hard feelings on my part. I think throwing
this wedding shower will go a long way to-
ward doing that.”

“I’m in,” Scarlett said. “You can count on
me.”

“Great!” Nicole said. “So, do you have any
time tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, I’d love to have you over to our house
and talk details.”

Scarlett had the unexpected thought that
maybe she was going to actually make a
friend here. Not a crazy, diabolical “friend”

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like Lydia, but a real friend who she could
actually share something with. The idea
filled her with warmth—much needed after
the way Bryson had departed earlier.

“I’d love to come over,” Scarlett told her
honestly.

“It’s settled then. We’ll send a car around to
pick you up at—say—eight o’clock?”

A car? Seriously? Scarlett thought, almost
laughing. These people didn’t mess around.
“Sounds perfect,” she said, keeping her voice
natural and composed.

***

When she saw Nicole’s house for the first
time, Scarlett drew a sharp intake of breath.
It was big—it looked like something that
should house the United Nations or the
Queen of England and all of her royal family.

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Yes, royalty—that’s what she felt like right
now, Scarlett thought, as the driver pulled
the car around to the front door of the house.
The door was open and Nicole was standing
there, waiting for her.

Nicole Jameson was dressed in a beautiful
blue dress that was at once understated and
also flatteringly gorgeous. Everything about
her was dignified and immaculate, Scarlett
decided.

She got out of the backseat of the car and
Nicole rushed forward, arms outstretched,
giving her a warm and sisterly hug. “Thanks
for coming on short notice,”

she said. “You have no idea how much I ap-
preciate this.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Scarlett said, returning
the hug. She was excited to be in this man-
sion and see how Nicole and Red Jameson

123/257

lived, to talk and perhaps become closer with
this kind and exuberant woman.

But when they walked inside the house, Scar-
lett heard other voices, and her heart sank.

“Everyone’s waiting in the living room,”
Nicole said, leading her through the grand
foyer and down the ornate hallway.

“Everyone?” Scarlett asked, trying to mask
her disappointment by sounding overly chip-
per. “Who else is here?”

“Well, I thought it could only help to have
other people who know Kallie, and that way
we can have plenty of input and fresh ideas.”

“Of course,” Scarlett lied. The fact was, she’d
been hoping and assuming Nicole had in-
vited her and her alone to plan this wedding
shower, and instead she was just another
person among many.

124/257

When they arrived at the living room, Scar-
lett almost ran out of the house altogeth-
er—because standing in front of her were the
last two people she wanted to see right now.

“So you made it!” Danielle cried, clapping
her hands. “Party time!” She did a little hip
shake. “You want a cocktail? I’m having a
white cranberry cosmo. Shall I make one for
you?”

“Uhhh…sure,” Scarlett stammered, as she
made eye contact with the very last person in
the world she wanted to see at that moment.

“Bestie!” cried Lydia, running toward her
and throwing her arms around Scarlett even
more vigorously and enthusiastically than
Nicole had just a few minutes ago.

Scarlett hugged her back, feigning excite-
ment. “Wow, I didn’t know you guys were

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coming here tonight. What an awesome
surprise.”

“I know, right?” Lydia said, backing up and
looking at her. “Girl, you are looking
hot—very sultry. Is it because you’re on set
with Bryson all day, working so closely to-
gether? Is that why?”

Danielle’s eyebrows rose and her eyes were
now twice as big as they’d been a moment
before. “Wait a minute. Is she saying what I
think she’s saying? You and Bryson Taylor
are an item?”

“No, no,” Scarlett insisted, her cheeks flush-
ing. This was getting out of control before
she’d even had a chance to get her bearings.
They were all looking at her, wanting details,
wanting girl talk, and she was determined to
shut it down. “Bryson and I are not togeth-
er—not even a little bit. He’s my boss.”

126/257

“That never stopped anyone, did it Nicole?”
Danielle laughed raucously.

Nicole sighed. “Don’t let them get to you,”
she told Scarlett, rolling her eyes good-
naturedly. “They’re like children.”

“No, do let us get to you,” Danielle said. “If
you aren’t with Bryson yet, you should seri-
ously give it some thought. I mean, he’s gor-
geous—if I wasn’t with my man, I’d be all
over that. Wouldn’t you, Nicole?”

Before Nicole could even answer, Lydia
jumped in. “He’s hot, but my Sean is so
amazing—I’d never even really look at anoth-
er man and have those kind of thoughts.”

Scarlett frowned. Wasn’t Lydia just talking
the other day about how hot Bryson was,
about the things she’d like to do to him?

127/257

Danielle’s eyes narrowed. “I’m quite happy
with Kane, believe me.”

“Oh, I wasn’t questioning that,” Lydia
replied. Then she cocked her head. “Isn’t
Kane Wright kind of an older man? Are you
having one of those May-December ro-
mances? That is totally romantic, in my
book.” She sighed happily. “It’s kind of like a
Nicholas Sparks novel. Although, someone
always dies in those. Not that Kane’s old
enough to, you know, die.” She said the last
part as a question, though, like she wasn’t
really sure.

Danielle’s lips pursed. “Really, I’m so glad
you approve. I don’t know what I would have
done otherwise.” She turned to Nicole.
“Some people need to learn manners. This
isn’t a sorority house in Kentucky.”

128/257

Lydia rolled her eyes and took a swig of the
champagne she was holding. “I’m just having
fun. Don’t be so touchy. Jeez.”

Scarlett was actually relieved that the two of
them had so spectacularly clashed, because
they’d forgotten about her and Bryson. Al-
though the vibe in the room was now dis-
tinctly chilly and awkward, Nicole tried to
smooth things over.

Each of them had a drink in hand and Nicole
brought in a tray of veggies and dip and set it
on the beautiful center glass table. They sat
on the lush cream-colored couch and match-
ing chairs that surrounded the table, eating,
drinking and discussing what might be fun to
do for Kallie’s shower.

It was cute, Scarlett thought, the way Nicole
was trying so hard on Kallie’s behalf. She had
a little notebook out and was taking down
ideas

and

suggestions,

almost

always

129/257

nodding and commenting on what a great
idea it was, no matter who said what and
how ridiculous the idea might be.

A few minutes into the conversation, Red ap-
peared in the doorway holding the baby in
his arms. He grinned. “Hello, ladies. Hope
we’re not interrupting.”

“Of course not,” Danielle squealed. “Riley
honey! Aunty Danielle misses you so much!
Did you just wake up, honey?” She walked
over to Red and plucked the tiny baby from
his arms, making faces and cooing at her.
“Hello, little one. Hello. Are you so tired?”

Red chuckled. “She might be a little cranky.
Just like her daddy gets when he wakes up.”

Nicole smiled. “Only she doesn’t need three
cups of coffee before she fully opens her eyes
in the morning.”

130/257

Red shrugged. “What can I say—I’m ad-
dicted.” He looked at Scarlett and Lydia.

“Sorry, I’m being rude. How are you ladies
doing?”

“Very well,” Scarlett said, slightly taken
aback by Red Jameson’s obvious physical
presence and sexual allure. What was it
about Hunter and everyone he hung out
with? she thought. They were all powerful,
male specimens with charismatic power.

Lydia went over and shook his hand. “I can’t
tell you how excited I’ve been to meet you.
I’m a huge, huge fan of your work.”

“Oh? Thanks.” He cocked an eyebrow and
gave Nicole a bit of a surprised glance.

“I mean, Kallie’s talked so much about you
and Nicole and everything you both have
done for her. And I sometimes think she

131/257

hopes Hunter will be kind of like a Red
Junior.”

Red laughed uncomfortably. “Hunter is do-
ing quite fine being himself. Last I checked, I
never disarmed a crazed gunman and took a
bullet in the process.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “The media does have
a way of overstating these things, Red. I
think you know that better than anybody. I
mean, do you really think he disarmed a
crazed gunman? Because that would be
pretty gullible.”

Nicole got up and clapped her hands. “I just
remembered, I really wanted to show every-
one the baby’s room. It’s so cute, what Red’s
done with it.”

Nicely done, Scarlett thought, as Nicole led
them upstairs to baby Riley’s room.

132/257

Nicole had wanted to stop that conversation
dead and she did it tactfully, without any-
body noticing her efforts.

After looking at the baby’s room for a while,
and taking turns holding baby Riley, they all
went back downstairs. Scarlett was holding
her now, and feeling the soft and warm body
in her arms was awakening something in her
that surprised her greatly.

She looked down into Riley’s liquid, brown
eyes. Riley stared back up at her, giggling
and smiling.

“You are a happy baby, aren’t you?”

Riley agreed that she was, with a huge,
toothless grin.

Scarlett looked at her and felt a catch in her
chest. It was a deep ache, a realization that
holding this little being, this innocent little

133/257

girl—this was the most natural thing in the
world. Scarlett suddenly understood that she
was supposed to have a child.

How could a realization like that hit her out
of the blue, in such a random circumstance,
surrounded by strangers? While holding a
stranger’s child, in fact?

She didn’t know. All she really knew was that
it made her deeply happy and sad, unfulfilled
but somehow hopeful all at once. Knowing
what you wanted was half the battle, after
all—wasn’t it?

It might help if you had a willing male part-
ner in the picture—not to mention, the abil-
ity to support yourself and your child
financially.

Scarlett sighed from deep in her chest.

134/257

“Hey,” Nicole said, coming up next to her
and smiling at her and then at Riley.

“She’s very sweet,” Scarlett said, handing Ri-
ley back to her mother. Riley reached out her
arms and embraced her mother.

Something about the little girl’s absolutely
love and trust for her mother, and Nicole’s
caring, nurturing response—caused Scarlett
to lose it completely.

The tears came from nowhere and every-
where at once. “Excuse me,” she said, and
rushed from the room. She didn’t even know
where the bathroom was, but she ran down
the long hallway until she found one.

Of course, the bathroom was large and im-
maculate, big enough to live in if someone
had the desire to do so.

135/257

Scarlett closed the door and let the tears
really come forth. She was sobbing, crying in
a way that she hadn’t done in some time.

Am I going crazy? She wondered.

Maybe. Maybe she was. In a way, she didn’t
really care. In a way, it felt amazing to let it
out and feel everything for once.

Just seeing that small, loving interaction
between mother and daughter had triggered
so many memories from her past. She’d
pushed so much of that stuff down, tried not
to think about it or how it had all affected
her for so long.

But the truth was, it hurt. It hurt that she
didn’t have that love, had never felt the un-
conditional love of a parent who would do
anything for her.

136/257

And beyond that, she didn’t have a child of
her own that might allow her to at least give
love to. Heck, she didn’t even have a pet.

There was a knock on the door. It was Nicole.
“Hey, Scarlett. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Scarlett called back, blowing her
nose and wiping her eyes, recovering.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Can I come in or—”

Scarlett wiped her eyes again. She thought
about saying that she’d be out in a moment,
but instead she went against her instincts.
She went and opened the door, allowing
Nicole into the bathroom.

Nicole’s eyes were concerned, but kind—so
kind. It made Scarlett picture the baby
reaching out and Nicole taking Riley into her

137/257

arms. And that made the waterworks turn on
yet again.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Scarlett shook her head as
the sobs wracked her body. “I didn’t want to
do this tonight. I didn’t want to make a
scene.”

“It’s okay,” Nicole said. And then she pulled
Scarlett in for a big, loving hug that seemed
to make everything better, just as it did for
little Riley.

Scarlett actually allowed herself to enjoy
Nicole’s kind embrace. “Thank you for being
understanding.”

“Listen, I can’t tell you how many tears I
shed at awkward times in my life,”

Nicole joked.

138/257

Scarlett went and got some more tissues to
wipe her eyes, noting her running mascara as
she sniffled. “Well, I think I might have you
beat in that department.”

“So,” Nicole said, backing away and crossing
her arms. “Do you want to talk about what’s
wrong? I can keep a pretty good secret.”

“It’s not some big secret,” Scarlett sighed.
“It’s just—my life.”

“Sure. I know the feeling.”

“Something about seeing you and Riley…”
She took a deep breath. “I think if I talk
about it more I’m going to start bawling
again.”

Nicole’s eyes were still sympathetic. There
wasn’t an ounce of judgment there from
what Scarlett could tell. “There’s nothing

139/257

wrong

with

having

strong

emotions,

Scarlett.”

“I suppose maybe I haven’t learned that les-
son in my life,” Scarlett said. “I didn’t really
have people around me, adults, who taught
me that it was okay to feel things. In fact, I
pretty much learned that the more I kept
things inside, the better it was for me grow-
ing up.”

“That’s a shame. You deserved better than
that.”

“Maybe so.” She took in another shuddering
breath and tried to calm her beating heart.
“It was what it was.”

“Maybe you’ll change that when you have a
family someday.”

Scarlett looked up at her as if Nicole had
read her mind.

140/257

Nicole smiled and reached over and touched
Scarlett’s arm softly. “I believe things in life
happen when you’re ready for them and not
a minute sooner.”

Scarlett shook her head. She didn’t know
why, but she suddenly felt much better.

“You should be a therapist.”

“I’m just someone who’s been through simil-
ar issues. You know, we’re all damaged in
some way. You’re not as different as you
might think.”

“I feel different.” She looked down at her
hands, twisting them in her lap nervously. “It
seems like everyone has someone special but
me. And the person I want—” she stopped.
Nicole and Kallie were close, and she
couldn’t risk talking about Bryson right now.
It would compromise too much. She shook
her head.

141/257

Nicole seemed to get it. “You’d be surprised
how things can change on a dime.

Whatever it is, or whoever it is that you’re
dealing with, never underestimate how much
circumstances can fluctuate. One day you’re
alone, crying and tortured, and then months
later you can be having the time of your life
with people that you love. And vice versa.”

Scarlett laughed. “So what you’re saying is,
it’s just one big crapshoot?”

Nicole grinned. “I don’t have all the answers.
I’m just hanging on by my fingernails
myself.”

“You seem like you’ve got a pretty good grip
on things.”

“It’s called acting.”

“Danielle should get lessons from you.”

142/257

Nicole giggled and put a hand over her
mouth. “Okay, come on. Let’s return, shall
we?”

They walked back to the living room where
Danielle and Lydia and Red and Riley were
all talking. As much as Scarlett thought she’d
made some huge scene, it seemed as if no
one had noticed her absence.

A little while later, Red took Riley again, as
she’d begun crying. “I’ll bring her upstairs
and feed her,” he said.

“It’s okay, I can do it,” Nicole told him.

“No, no. You just have fun with your
friends,” he said.

“Oh! He is so sweet,” Lydia cried, hand on
her chest.

143/257

“Remember that honey, next time I act like
an ass,” Red said, winking at Nicole.

Then he walked over and gave her a long kiss
on the lips.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Danielle said,
as he carried Riley and walked out of the
room, waving goodbye.

“You snagged a good one,” Lydia said sigh-
ing. “I hope my Sean is that kind of man, and
not some weirdo like Hunter.”

Scarlett stared at her. Did the woman not
realize this was a get together where they
were

planning

for

Kallie’s

wedding

shower—and that Kallie was in fact marrying
that “weirdo?”

“How is Hunter a weirdo?” Danielle asked.
“Other than the fact that he’s refused to pub-
lish a sequel to his hit book.”

144/257

Lydia rolled her eyes and took a long sip
from her drink. “Whatever, his books have
nothing to do with it. Although doesn’t he
write weird books with love and murder?”
She looked at the group knowingly, like this
meant something.

Scarlett shot her a look, feeling the need to
stick up for Hunter. “Well he’s been nothing
but good to me.”

Lydia met her gaze. “I guess I just don’t like
keeping my mouth shut when it comes to my
friend’s happiness and safety.”

Nicole looked at them both. “I don’t get it.
Am I missing something?”

“No,” Scarlett said firmly.

“I guess not,” Lydia shrugged and downed
more of her drink.

145/257

“Weird,” Danielle said, raising her eyebrows.
“Anyway, moving on. Are you excited about
me coming on set this week?”

Scarlett nodded, although she hadn’t known
Danielle had even gotten a role, let alone
been asked to come to set this week. “I can’t
wait. That’s super exciting.”

“I guess everyone’s getting to hang around
on this film but me,” Lydia said, her eyes
narrowing.

“Hang around?” Danielle said. “Not exactly,
honey. I’m an actress and I have a part in the
film.” She turned her back on Lydia as she
spoke. Her cheeks were aflame.

“Well, I don’t know about your part. I just
know some people made some promises that
they don’t seem like they want to keep.”

146/257

Scarlett sighed. “I’m sure people are going to
keep their promises.”

“Good, because otherwise things are going to
get ugly around here.”

“Lydia, it sounds like you’re making threats,”
Nicole said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,”
Lydia replied, looking innocent.

“Maybe she’s just trying to get attention,”
Danielle said.

Lydia put a hand on her hip. “If I was trying
to get your attention, you’d know it.

And I wouldn’t do it by wearing some
hideous green skirt from the seventies.”

Danielle looked down at her green skirt.
“This is an Oscar De Laurenta skirt. Are you
out of your mind?”

147/257

“Maybe Oscar was out of his mind when he
made that thing. If he even did.”

“Okay, okay, okay. That’s it,” Nicole said, her
voice loud and her eyes flashing.

“I’m not going to put up with this bickering
anymore. I brought you all here to have a
nice time and to plan something for Kallie. If
you don’t want to do that, then maybe you
should just go.”

Lydia tossed her hair. “That’s fine. I knew I
wouldn’t be treated with respect here.” She
glared at Scarlett. “I’m used to being let
down, though. Anyway, it’s okay.

The people who need to know will know soon
enough that I’m not just trying to get atten-
tion. And then there will be some apologies
owed.”

148/257

“I’m sure,” Danielle said, still with her back
turned to Lydia.

Lydia turned and stormed out and Scarlett
followed after her. She didn’t want to, but
she was terrified that this incident would
push her to send out some crazy email or
make a phone call and tell everyone about
Kallie and Hunter’s contract.

When Lydia got outside, she spun around to
face Scarlett. “I’m sick of this,” she practic-
ally yelled.

“Sick of what?”

“You promised me. You said we were
friends.”

“We are friends.”

149/257

Lydia laughed a sharp, barking laugh. “You
call this being friends? You barely even ac-
knowledge that I exist.”

“I’m sorry if you feel that way.”

“Well, I do feel that way. You never call me,
you never include me in anything.

And I can tell that you don’t even really like
me, Scarlett.” Now there were tears in Ly-
dia’s eyes.

“That’s not true,” Scarlett said, but a little
voice inside her head was saying otherwise.
Why would I like someone who’s blackmail-
ing me? she thought, but knew that wouldn’t
be a good thing to say out loud right now.

“I see the way you look at me—with
contempt.”

150/257

“That’s not true. And I do want to include
you.”

“Because I’m thinking maybe this would all
go away if I just told everyone—

everyone—what Hunter Reardon’s really
like.”

Scarlett felt panic rising in her chest. She
could feel Nicole behind her, watching and
listening to everything that was being said.
“Listen, you should come by the set tomor-
row and hang out,” Scarlett told her.

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, mistrustful. “I don’t
want to be invited just because I threw a tan-
trum and you want to shut me up.”

Scarlett forced herself to laugh, and act as if
nothing could be further from the truth. “I’m
inviting you because I want you to come.”
She stepped forward and put a hand on

151/257

Lydia’s shoulder and looked her straight in
the eye. “The truth is that I’ve been super
busy and caught up in my own petty little
dramas. But I shouldn’t let that get in the
way of our friendship, and I won’t let it get in
the way of our friendship again. I promise.”

Lydia thought about it, the beginnings of a
smile starting at the corners of her mouth.
“You really do promise?”

“I really do. Come tomorrow afternoon, I’ll
text you the address.”

“Afternoon? Don’t you start filming at like
the crack of dawn or something?”

Scarlett laughed. “We do, but I thought you
might be bored sitting around waiting while
they get everything set up. And the actors
won’t even be there yet.”

152/257

“I don’t care,” Lydia said, grinning. “I’ll be
there with my bestie.”

Scarlett felt a pit form in her stomach. Would
this vicious cycle never end?

“Great. Then I’ll see you bright and early, I
guess.”

Nicole finally stepped forward. “I’ve called
the car service for you, Lydia. I’m sorry you
didn’t have an enjoyable time tonight.”
Nicole’s voice was cool but still surprisingly
friendly.

Lydia just shrugged. “I should have known
that friends of Kallie and Hunter’s would
think they were better than me. You’re rich
and famous and who am I?”

“That’s not true, but I doubt I can convince
you otherwise,” Nicole sighed.

153/257

“Well, I don’t really care. I’m happy with the
friends I do have, right Scarlett?”

“Sure,” Scarlett said softly, hating the fact
that she had to placate this bratty woman,
and in front of Nicole to boot.

The car pulled around and Lydia got in. “I’ll
see you tomorrow! Text me, okay?”

“Okay, I will,” Scarlett said, waving and
watching her go.

Nicole stood next to her, watching the car
leave with Lydia inside it. “I wouldn’t have
invited her to this had I known she wasn’t on
good terms with Kallie and Hunter.”

Somehow, Scarlett now felt responsible for
the whole thing. “She’s just immature. She’s
a little bit jealous of all the attention they
get.”

154/257

“Is that it?” Nicole asked. “Because she hin-
ted at something else—a secret or something
that she’s keeping about Hunter?”

Scarlett licked her lips. She considered
telling Nicole everything, but didn’t know for
sure if she could trust her or not.

Just tell her. Unburden yourself, maybe she
can help you find a way out of it.

But then she thought about how unfair it
would be to put Nicole in that position. “I
don’t know what Lydia was talking about,”
she lied. “I think she’s just angry and envious
and wants to cause trouble. But I’ve got her
under control.”

Nicole smiled a little. “Are you sure about
that? Because she seems about as out of con-
trol as a person can get.”

155/257

Scarlett nodded. “I’ll get her under control.
I’d never let her hurt Kallie.”

“Come on, let’s go back inside and have an-
other drink,” Nicole said.

“Now you’re talking.”

The two of them walked back inside togeth-
er, talking and laughing.

***

The next morning, when she arrived on set,
something was definitely wrong.

Bryson greeted her brusquely. “You’re late,”
he said.

“Sorry,” she said. It was true, she was about
twenty minutes late because of some train
delays, but normally the first twenty minutes
after she arrived were quite dull anyway. “Is
everything okay? Something I can do?”

156/257

He shook his head, as the line producer came
over. “We better get moving if we’re going to
shift these scenes around.”

“I know, I know. I’m just trying to figure this
out.” Bryson was standing with a copy of the
shooting script and paging through it as they
spoke.

“Why do we have to move scenes around?”
she asked.

The producer shook his head. “I guess she
missed the fireworks.”

“Fireworks?”

“I’ll explain later,” Bryson said. He continued
flipping through the script.

“We need an answer on this, Bryson.”

“Give me ten minutes. I need to think this
through.” He frowned down at the pages as if

157/257

trying to figure out a particularly tough
riddle. His brow furrowed and he bit his lip
in concentration.

The line producer gave an exaggerated sigh.
“Time is money.”

“I’m aware of that.”

The line producer stalked off.

Kallie looked at Bryson. “I don’t understand.
What happened?”

“Just before you got here, Dale Nolan and I
had a bit of a disagreement. He came in this
morning with a bug up his ass about the
scenes we’re shooting today.”

“What was his problem?”

Bryson continued searching his script as he
talked. His voice was weary and strangely
unaffected. “I could hardly make heads or

158/257

tails of it. He had some ideas about script
changes. Fucking actors. It’s like, no—you’re
not a writer and a director and a producer.
You’re a puppet. Be a good puppet, recite the
lines that people write for you and move the
way the director tells you, stand where you’re
supposed to stand—and look pretty.”

Scarlett was a little shocked by his outburst.
She looked around to make sure nobody had
really heard him, because if that kind of talk
got around set, things could get ugly for
Bryson. “I think maybe calling him a pup-
pet’s not such a great way to communicate
your frustration.”

“I know that, Scarlett. This is just between
me and you. If I can’t bitch to my assistant,
than what are you here for—right?”

Her mouth puckered. “I thought I was here
for more than that.”

159/257

“Please, don’t you get an attitude now, too. I
don’t think I can deal with that right now.”

She wanted to make a smart comment to
him right then, but looking at the exhaustion
written on his face, decided against it. He
was clearly stressed to the breaking point.
“So what exactly happened with Dale? Where
is he?”

“God only knows. When I told him that I
wasn’t going to use his script changes, he
stalked off in a huff. So now we need to reor-
ganize filming because he’s left the set and I
refuse to shut down filming over it.”

“Okay. Does Eliza know what happened?”

He looked up, and now he did look some-
what concerned. “I don’t think she knows.
And her and Dale are fairly tight. Maybe you
could go talk to her, Scarlett. See if she’s
spoken to Dale, and if she hasn’t, then you

160/257

can explain we’ll be needing to shuffle things
around a little.”

“Is she in her trailer?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Scarlett started to leave, but Bryson reached
out and caught her arm. His mere touch elec-
trified her entire body.

“Scarlett—” he said.

“Yes?”

“I owe you one for being so cool. I know I
busted your chops just now, and you didn’t
deserve that.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m the
last person you need to worry about.”

He grinned back at her. “Thank God for
that.”

161/257

And then he let her go and she headed over
to Eliza Johnston’s trailer, her stomach knot-
ting up in anticipation of dealing with the
unpredictable actress.

When she knocked on the door, Eliza’s voice
was bright and sunny from inside the trailer.
“Come in,” she called out.

Scarlett entered, finding Eliza trying on a
lacy, sheer bra, standing in her panties.

“Oh, crap—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you
were changing!” Scarlett cried, averting her
eyes.

Eliza tinkled laughter. “Relax, babe. In a few
days I’m going to be naked in front of the
whole cast and crew. I think I can handle you
seeing my tits in the trailer.”

“I guess I still have a lot to learn about the
movie business.” Scarlett tried to smile,

162/257

although her cheeks were burning with em-
barrassment. She felt like she’d just admitted
to being a forty-year-old virgin.

“Don’t we all,” Eliza said. She took off the bra
and started to try on another one.

Her body was toned perfection, and she
knew it. “So, what’s up?”

Scarlett walked to one of the chairs and
picked up a magazine, pretending to be in-
terested in it. It was one of those trashy
tabloids, and in the top right corner it said,

“Eliza

Johnston’s

Reckless

Weekend

Revealed!!” Beneath the headline, there was
a picture of Eliza looking shocked and angry
all at once. She wasn’t the cover story, but
Scarlett thought that Eliza had probably
bought this magazine to read about herself
just the same.

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“Earth to Charlotte!” Eliza said. “Hello?”

“Oh.” Scarlett put the magazine down again.
“My name’s Scarlett.”

“Sorry.” Eliza shrugged. “I meet so many
people, you can imagine I get things mixed
up once in a while.”

“Yeah, of course. I’m not offended.”

“We were talking about why you came to my
trailer,” Eliza reminded her, as she fixed her
bra straps and looked at herself in the full-
length mirror leaning against the wall across
from her.

“Right.” Scarlett exhaled. “Bryson wanted me
to swing by and let you know that there’s
been a slight change of plans with today’s
shooting schedule.”

164/257

Eliza was putting on a skimpy belly shirt,
twirling side to side in front of the mirror
now. “There’s always a slight change of
plans.”

“Maybe more than slight. I guess Dale and
Bryson had a disagreement about the script
and—”

“And Dale took off?” she asked, flipping her
hair and twisting, giving the mirror a come
hither look.

“I’m not sure if he’s, like, gone for the rest of
the day. But they decided to move some
scenes just to be on the safe side and make
sure we don’t lose precious hours.

Bryson’s still trying to decide exactly which
scenes to do next, but obviously it affects
you, so he just wanted me to let you know.”

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“Wow, I hope Dale doesn’t decide to throw
him under the bus,” Eliza replied, her voice
not sounding concerned—just matter-of-fact.

“You think Dale would do that?”

Eliza gave her a look that said, ‘you can’t
really be this naïve.’ “He’s done it before.
Dale is a perfectionist. He’s a great actor, but
if he doesn’t like the way something’s going,
the way he’s being directed, the kind of hair
gel they’re using on him—he can be pretty
ruthless in getting what he wants.”

Scarlett licked her lips. “I’m sure Bryson will
sort it out with him.”

Eliza studied her for a long moment. “You
have a lot of faith in Bryson, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Based on what?”

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Scarlett hesitated. “I’m not sure I understand
the question.”

Eliza smirked. “What I’m saying is—how do
you know Bryson’s good at this job? He’s
never even done it before.”

“I have faith that he’ll be good at it. He’s in-
credibly smart, driven, and talented.

He’s just under a lot of pressure and obvi-
ously there are going to be some bumps in
the road, especially in the beginning. But
he’ll figure it out and this will be a great
film.”

Eliza’s smile widened. “Oh my God,” she
said. “You like him, don’t you?”

Scarlett’s heart pounded and her mouth
dried up. “He’s my boss. I work for him,
that’s all.” But she felt completely see
through.

167/257

“I should have known.” Eliza clucked and
shook her head. “I should have spotted it the
first time I saw you walk into the club with
him. Of course you’re crushing on him. He’s
hot as hell and he’s in charge of you.”

Scarlett felt tongue tied, afraid and angry all
at once. “Listen—I don’t see what that has to
do with anything. We’re not talking about
me.”

“Maybe we should be.”

“I don’t think so.” Scarlett’s chest was rising
and falling rapidly as Eliza honed in on her
with renewed, hawk-like interest.

“Listen, it happens all the time,” Eliza said.
“It’s like me showing my tits to the crew be-
cause the script has an obligatory nude
scene. It’s the way this business works.”

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“Maybe that’s true, but I’m just here to do a
job.”

“Of course, of course.” Eliza composed her
face into a mock serious expression.

“You’re just doing your duty for God and
country. Understood.”

Scarlett tried to figure out how everything
had gotten all changed around and she was
suddenly being scrutinized by Eliza John-
ston. “I came here to tell you about the
shooting schedule. That’s all.”

“Sometimes plans change.” Eliza grinned
mischievously. “You should remember that,
Scarlett. This can be a very, very tough busi-
ness. And there’s a pecking order when it
comes to romance.”

169/257

Scarlett shrugged, her hands feeling numb,
her breath shallow. “If you say so. It doesn’t
matter to me.”

“Well, maybe one day my advice will come in
handy. I wish someone had explained this to
me when I first started working in the in-
dustry. There’s a pecking order.

And the stars get their pick when it comes to
flings and romance on set. It doesn’t really
make sense to go above your pay grade. In
fact, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Thanks for the tip. I appreciate it.” Scarlett
kept her voice steady and cool.

“Glad you appreciate it.” Eliza sighed. “Okay,
well—you can go now.”

Scarlett turned and left the trailer without
another word.

170/257

***

They finally began shooting about an hour
later. They set up a shot in a small alleyway
of the amusement park that was made to
look like a street corner from a different part
of the movie.

There was scrambling to get one of the sec-
ondary actors to the set in time to play op-
posite Eliza, but eventually it worked out.

Bryson was harried and short on patience,
but he seemed to be getting his bearings a
little once they were working.

Scarlett watched him as he watched the
monitors during takes. He wore headphones
and would call cut, pulling the headphones
off and then converse with the director of
photography and assistant director.

171/257

They were on the third take when Lydia
came running up to Eliza, squealing with de-
light. Clearly, the girl had no clue about what
“quiet on set” meant.

She blew the take with all her noise.

“Cut!” Bryson yelled, turning around, his
face almost purple. “What the fuck is going
on, on my set?”

Lydia fell silent. Scarlett stared at him, a
lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she said.
“She didn’t know we were filming.”

“She didn’t know? Was she confused by the
cameras and people and the actors acting?”

“It’s my fault,” Scarlett said.

“You and her—get out of here,” he growled.

Everyone on set was watching the drama un-
fold, and the last thing Scarlett wanted to do

172/257

was give them an eye full. “Okay, we’re go-
ing,” she said. “Come on Lydia.”

Lydia looked at Bryson balefully, as if con-
sidering a sharp retort, but Scarlett pulled
her from the area as quickly as she could.
They started to walk through the empty park,
Lydia bitching and moaning as they went.

“What’s his problem, anyway? I didn’t
know—how could I know they were in the
middle of a scene? I thought it was like a re-
hearsal or something. I figured everything
would be like—car chases, explosions, you
know? Exciting stuff, at least.”

Scarlett had to bite her tongue.

Maybe if you talked less and paid more at-
tention, you’d have noticed people were try-
ing to work. Maybe you wouldn’t have been
screaming and yelling and carrying on be-
fore knowing what was and wasn’t

173/257

acceptable on a film set. But of course, Scar-
lett couldn’t say any of that. As it was, Lydia
was a time bomb that was ready to explode
at any moment, completely unstable and un-
predictable, and best of all—Scarlett was at
her mercy.

“I thought Bryson was a nice guy,” she
muttered. “Turns out he’s just like Hunter
and all these other rich snobs around here.”

“He’s under a lot of stress,” Scarlett said.

“Why do you always take their side?”

“I don’t mean to take sides.”

“Well you should—you should take my side.
I’m your best friend.”

“It’s a misunderstanding,” Scarlett told her.
“We’ll figure it out.”

174/257

“Sure, just like it was a misunderstanding
how that bitch Danielle talked to me last
night, and how Nicole defended her.” Lydia
looked at her imploringly. “Am I really such
a bad person? Am I really so unlikeable,
Scarlett?”

“Of course not.” Scarlett chose her words
carefully. “But I think sometimes you do
come on a little strong.”

Lydia sighed. “I just want people to like me.
But somehow I’m always on the outside, I’m
never in the group. Even in high school, it
was just like this. I was cute, the boys liked
me, but just for a make out session or trying
to get their rocks off. No one wanted to be
my boyfriend, and the girls were all jealous.
They all hated me.”

“I’m sorry. High school sucks.”

175/257

Lydia nodded miserably. “College wasn’t
much

different.

And

then

everything

changed when I met Sean. Sean was a popu-
lar guy and he actually loved me, he liked
spending time with me. I thought finally I’d
be accepted by all of the cool people around
him. But they ended up hating me just like
everyone always has.”

“I think maybe you’re being too hard on
yourself, Lydia. Maybe you need to stop try-
ing so hard to please others.”

Scarlett had to restrain herself from cracking
a smile as she said those words.

Lydia trying to please others? She was per-
haps the most self-involved person that Scar-
lett had ever run across, and she’d met her
fair share of self-centered narcissists.

176/257

“You’re right,” Lydia said, brightening. “I
need to be myself. If someone doesn’t like
me, it’s their loss. Right, bestie?”

Scarlett nodded, unable to even respond.
They continued walking, and Scarlett tried to
figure out when it might be safe to return to
set. Would she have a chance to explain to
Bryson what was going on? The way he had
yelled at them in front of everyone was em-
barrassing, but she couldn’t really blame
him.

Bringing Lydia to the shoot today had been
reckless and the fact that it impacted the
scene for even a moment was inexcusable.
Lydia was not Bryson’s problem.

“Oh my God,” Lydia hissed, stopping short
and staring straight ahead.

Scarlett looked up. She’d been staring at her
feet, lost in thought. But now, not twenty feet

177/257

in front of them, a familiar figure was mak-
ing his way through the grounds.

“Is that who I think it is?” Lydia whispered,
reaching out and clutching Scarlett’s sleeve.

“Yeah,” Scarlett said, “It’s Dale Nolan.”

“I’m going to pass out.” Her grip on Scarlett’s
arm tightened. “Seriously.”

“Please don’t.”

Dale made eye contact with them and slowly
smiled. He was dressed casually in jeans and
a long-sleeved t-shirt, a baseball cap cocked
sideways on his head. “Ladies,” he said, and
tipped his hat. “What are you doing wander-
ing around these parts?”

Lydia shook visibly. “I have to say, I am a
huge fan of yours.”

178/257

Dale came closer. Her admission didn’t ap-
pear to faze him. “Thanks. What’s your
name?”

“Lydia.” She reached out her hand and he
took it gently, shaking it and making direct
eye contact for a longer time than necessary.

“Lydia,” Dale repeated, like it was an exotic
word he’d never heard before.

“That’s a really beautiful name. And I can tell
there’s a beautiful soul to go along with it.”

Lydia flushed. “I can’t believe Dale Nolan
just called me beautiful.”

Scarlett wanted to puke. Did he have a clue
what he was unleashing here?

“I heard there was some friction between you
and Bryson,” Scarlett said. “Sorry to hear
that.”

179/257

Dale’s expression went from friendly to mis-
trusting in an instant. “What did he tell you
about it?”

“Nothing really,” she quickly added. “He just
said that he felt bad that there was a mis-
communication between the two of you.”

“It wasn’t really a miscommunication,” Dale
said. “I told him we have a dialog problem
and he told me to go fuck myself. That’s not
exactly a miscommunication.”

Scarlett was a little surprised that Bryson
hadn’t been more clear with her about the
nature of the issue. He’d said that Dale
wanted changes to the script, but he didn’t
say it was about the dialog.

“Bryson should listen to you,” Lydia told him
confidently. “I mean, you’re a huge star and
you’ve been doing movies for awhile now. I
think you know what you’re doing.”

180/257

Dale grinned. “I really like her,” he told Scar-
lett. “You got anymore of her around here?”

“There’s only one,” Scarlett said.

“I’m just myself,” Lydia said, giving Scarlett a
proud look. “I’m not one for mincing my
words.”

“Good, because I’m so sick of these fake Hol-
lywood types who just tell me what I want to
hear to my face and then talk shit behind my
back.”

“Oh, please, tell me about it,” Lydia said. “I
was just saying the same to Scarlett.”

Dale folded his arms and turned to Scarlett.
“Maybe we should let her talk to our fearless
director and shake some sense into him.”

“Listen,” Lydia said. “I promise that Bryson
will do what you want. Scarlett is very close

181/257

to him. She’s his right hand girl. And I’m her
right hand girl. So between the two of us,
we’ll get through to him.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I don’t say it if I don’t mean it,” Lydia prom-
ised. “Ask Scarlett.”

Dale looked at Scarlett. “Will you get Bryson
to listen to reason about the rewrites? We
need to fix the damn dialog or this movie is
going to go down as one of the biggest disap-
pointments in film history.” His eyes
hardened. “I’d rather make sure this movie
never gets released at all than attach my
name to something I don’t believe in.”

“I understand your concerns,” Scarlett said,
trying to be careful in choosing her words.
After all, she didn’t know if Bryson would
listen to anyone or change anything if he

182/257

didn’t want to do so. “I’ll make sure he hears
and understands what you’ve told me.”

Lydia pointed at him. “And after she tells
him what you’ve told us, I’ll make damn sure
he gets it through his thick skull that he
needs to do the right thing.”

“Wow, this woman is amazing.”

“You could say that,” Scarlett replied, her
brow gathering beads of sweat.

She wanted to stuff a gag in Lydia’s mouth,
but it was too late. The damage had been
done.

Dale exhaled, smiling. “Man, I feel so fucking
relieved. This is awesome. I was thinking I
needed to call my agent and set the attack
dogs loose on Bryson. But now, I feel like
maybe this whole situation isn’t totally
screwed.” He looked at his watch. “It’s lunch

183/257

time. You girls want to come get some grub
with me?”

“Absolutely!” Lydia screeched.

“Have you met Eliza yet?” Dale asked Lydia,
throwing his arm over her shoulders as they
headed back towards the set.

“Eliza Johnston? God, no. But I’d love to.”

“Well, she usually eats with me, so you’ll def-
initely hang with her today.”

Scarlett allowed herself to fall slightly back
as the two of them walked ahead, chatting
like true besties. She was in a bad dream.
This couldn’t really be happening right now.
Lydia had somehow managed to infiltrate al-
most every aspect of Scarlett’s life. She was
like a virus, and letting her in the door one
step had led to a massive infection.

184/257

The problem now was that in order to get rid
of the infection, Scarlett realized she might
risk killing off everything—including Scar-
lett’s career and personal life.

When they arrived back on set, craft services
had set up an enormous buffet of food, with
everything from pasta to salads and heavy
desserts. There were picnic tables all around
and plenty of actors and crewmembers sit-
ting scattered around, or lined up at the hot
trays to get their lunch.

Scarlett immediately spotted Bryson. He was
walking towards Dale and Lydia.

He stopped and spoke briefly.

She could tell from his facial expressions that
he wasn’t happy, although he covered it well,
with a smile and laughter that never touched
his eyes. Lydia was chirping at him, but

185/257

Scarlett couldn’t hear what was being said
and, frankly, didn’t want to know.

When Bryson was done chatting with them,
his eyes locked on hers. He came towards
her. “Do you have a second?”

“Of course.”

“Come on, then.” He started walking away
from the food and towards the parking lot.
He was moving quickly. Eventually, they got
to some kind of office where the amusement
park staff must normally have been located.
Bryson used a key to open the door. “Go in,
Scarlett.”

She went inside, her stomach full of butter-
flies. The office was musty, small, with a
couple of old wooden desks, chairs, some fil-
ing cabinets and ancient looking desktop
computers. “Bryson, I know you’re probably
angry with me.”

186/257

He slammed the door shut behind him. “Are
you trying to ruin my life?” he said.

“Of course not.”

“Could have fooled me. What were you
thinking, bringing that nitwit on my film
set?”

“It’s complicated.”

“No it isn’t. You’re screwing me up, Scarlett,
and I really don’t appreciate it.”

His blue eyes stared unmercifully into hers.

“I’m not trying to screw you up, I swear. It’s
the last thing I want to do.”

“You keep saying that, but your actions tell a
different story. Now Lydia’s hanging out with
Dale Nolan and he said something to me
about how Lydia and you would be having a

187/257

long talk with me later today. What the fuck
is that about?”

Scarlett put a hand to her forehead. “I’ll get
rid of her. I’ll do what I need to do.

It was a huge mistake bringing her here, but
I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“Why would you think that?” His hands were
on his hips as he awaited her answer.

She wanted to tell him about the contract
and trying to protect Kallie, but the words
wouldn’t come. “I just did. I’d promised to
try and include her in things…”

“This isn’t high school,” Bryson said, his
voice getting louder. “This isn’t some game
for you to play with your friends. This is my
life.” She saw the pain and betrayal in his
eyes. “Dale Nolan is becoming a thorn in my

188/257

side, and now I’m starting to think I’ve got
nothing but thorns around me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s not good enough anymore,” he said,
nearly a yell.

Suddenly, it came to her. He was right. Sorry
wasn’t good enough anymore.

Scarlett dropped to her knees, looking up at
his face. He registered surprise and
bewilderment.

“You’re right about everything,” she said.
“I’ve been irresponsible. I deserve anything
you decide to do to me.”

“What are you doing?” he asked.

She looked up at him, enjoying the fact that
he was so thrown by her reaction.

189/257

She crawled towards him and grabbed his
pant legs, pressing her face against his
thighs.

“Show me how to be good,” she said. “Please,
Bryson. Please show me.”

He grabbed her hands roughly. “Is this an-
other head trip? You want to pull me into
some kind of sick game where you get pun-
ished because that’s exactly what you wanted
the whole time?”

“I’ve been bad, haven’t I?”

He stared down at her. “You’re fucking ju-
venile, Scarlett.”

She let go of his legs and turned onto her
stomach, arching her buttocks up towards
him. “If I’ve been bad, let me know. That’s
all. Help me learn. I can learn, I just need a
very stern, fair teacher.”

190/257

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She reached down and unbuttoned her jeans,
sliding them down a few inches.

She could feel cool air against her backside.
She only had a thong on beneath her pants.

The cold floor was hard and dusty against
her face. But she knew it was the right place
to be. This was the right time. She was ready,
and she thought Bryson might be too. “I’m
asking for it,” she said. “There’s nothing
wrong if you want to teach me a lesson. Get
some aggression out.”

“So that’s what gets you off?” he said, and he
sounded angry. “You like getting hurt?”

“I like being corrected, when it’s needed.”

“Fine, Scarlett. Have it your way,” he said,
and suddenly he was upon her. His weight

191/257

was pressing down from above, pressing her
breasts into the floor. It was cool against her
cheek and lips. She could smell him next to
her, his breath hitting the back of her neck as
his hands roughly pulled her pants down fur-
ther. “You’ve been bad, and you’ve screwed
up. And now you’re going to get what you de-
serve.” His hand began slapping her but-
tocks, slapping her ass hard.

He had a strong, firm hand, and she could
tell he was genuinely angry as he did it.

She’d brought out his animal side and she
liked it. She was getting wet as his hand
reddened and stung her backside.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to know. Please
show me how to be good.”

He continued slapping her ass. His other
hand pulled her hair as he whispered in her

192/257

ear. “Is this what you wanted? You want to
be bad?”

“No,” she moaned. “I want to be good. Show
me how.”

“I’ll show you then,” he said. “I’ll show you
exactly how.” He pulled her to her knees by
her hair. It stung enough to make her cry
out. But Bryson was merciless with her. He
dragged her to her knees as he climbed to his
feet. “Unzip me. Hurry, don’t waste any
time.”

She started to frantically unzip his pants.
Thank God, she thought. Thank God he was
doing this right now. She needed him. She
needed to be close to him, she needed to be
controlled, told, put in her place. Eyes
closed, she pulled his cock free from his box-
ers, feeling it in her hand. Now she just
waited for his command.

193/257

“Suck it,” he ordered. “Suck it and do it right,
Scarlett.” His hand pulled her hair, sending a
bolt of pain up the back of her head.

Gratefully, she took him into her mouth,
feeling his legs shake from the tension and
excitement he was experiencing. It was
amazing to know that she was initiating
Bryson to this new world. He liked to domin-
ate, to control, but he clearly knew nothing
of formal dominant and submissive relation-
ships. But now he would see it, he was a nat-
ural, and she would be his first.

She sucked as he wanted her to, and she let
him guide her head and her movements with
his hands on the back of her head. When he
wanted her to go deep, he needed to simply
slide his hips forward and press on her head,
and she would go as far as he needed. Her
lips slid over his cock, her tongue slurping,
trying to cover every millimeter of him with
her saliva.

194/257

Bryson cried out. She sucked harder. She
wanted him to come in her mouth, on her
face. She wanted him to do with her as he
pleased, to truly show her what he needed.

But then he was pulling away from her,
pulling himself from her mouth. He stared
down at her. “Get back on the floor, on your
goddamn stomach. You’re still trying to do
the teaching, aren’t you Scarlett?”

She nodded, caught in the act. “I’m sorry,
you’re right, sir.”

“Get on the damn floor and shut that mouth
for once. You need something else to make
you learn,” he growled.

She got on the floor, and now her stomach
was alive with butterflies of anticipation. He
was on top of her again, this time ripping the
thong from her, exposing her to the air. He
maneuvered

himself

astride

her

legs,

195/257

straddling her buttocks, pressing his hard-
ness against her.

She was completely bare and wet against the
floor. Scarlett could smell the sex in the air,
mixing with the dirt and must of the office. It
was disgusting and bad and wrong, and she
loved every second of it.

Bryson paddled her butt cheeks with both
hands, and it stung and she cried out each
time. “Now, you’re going to get a real lesson.
You say you want to learn. We’ll see how well
you take what I’m giving.” She felt him
harden against her, pressing down between
her cheeks with his cock.

“Open up for me and be good,” he told her.
He pulled her hair with one hand while he
used his other hand to press his cock further
in, against her ass. He was enormous and
she knew it would be very difficult, pain-
ful—maybe impossible.

196/257

She was surprised he’d gone to that, shocked
that he had the confidence and the aggres-
sion level to pull such a bold maneuver. But
she liked it—she liked the very fact that he
was determined to teach her a real lesson.

He slid the tip of his cock around her anus.
“You’re being difficult. Loosen up for me.”

“I’m trying,” she moaned.

He reached around to her pussy and began
massaging it with his fingers.

Instantly, she was writhing and crying out as
his fingers entered her and rubbed her stim-
ulated, swollen clitoris. “Now I’ve got some
natural lubrication,” he whispered. He star-
ted massaging her anus with his fingers.
“Now you’re asshole’s wet. Your ass is open
and your mouth is shut, as it should be.”

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She sighed, moaning, as the head of him
forced it’s way into her. His legs were tangled
in with hers, his hands pressed on her but-
tocks, moving them apart to allow for greater
access, stretching her to accommodate his
enormous girth.

The intensity of it filled her, shutting down
everything else. There was nothing, nothing
else but him entering her, sliding in, deeper
and wider than she could have imagined.
And she was surprised to find that she really
could expand further than she ever would
have believed. He was going all the way in,
and his body pressed against her, the two of
them covered in sweat.

“You little dirty slut,” he whispered in her
ear. “You’re going to let me fuck you in the
ass like you deserve. You’ve been bad, you’ve
fucked up my film.”

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“I did,” she moaned. “I’m sorry. I deserve
this.”

His hand came around to her pussy, massa-
ging. His other hand grabbed her breasts as
he continued plunging into her anus. “Get
off,” he said. “I know you love it.

Show me how much you love it. Come for
me.”

She did come for him, then. She felt the
juices intermingling as she came, crying out
loudly in that tiny room with Bryson forcing
his way deeper still.

“Bryson, I’m coming,” she said. “Fuck me.”

“Your ass is tight,” he said. “You need to
learn how to shut your mouth and listen.
Otherwise I’m just going to keep on filling
every hole until you do listen.”

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“Yes, sir,” she said, still climaxing.

His hand continued to quickly rub her pussy.
She was so wet down there that it seemed
like her juices would never stop. It was dirty
and she didn’t care. It was wrong, unbeliev-
ably wrong—and she just didn’t care.

It was also the right thing for her, at this
time, in the place, with this man.

“I’m going to come all over your fucking as-
shole,” he announced. “Don’t move.”

He pulled out, and then in the emptiness,
she felt a hot and wet spurt of liquid, and
then more and more. He continued to un-
leash his semen into her ass, growling and
moaning as he finished. He pressed his cock
against her and forced his way in again, even
as he finished.

“Oh,” she cried out in surprise.

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“You should learn to expect the unexpected,”
he said, sliding himself in and out of her, as
he slowly relaxed inside of her. Soon he was
softly stroking her hair and then pulling out
completely, but still lying atop her.

She turned her head to look at him, catching
his enthusiastic smile as he looked at her in
return.

“Feel better?” she said.

“Of course I do,” he sighed. “I just don’t
know what came over me.”

“You don’t need to know,” she said. “Just
trust me.”

“I do trust you.” He continued stroking her
hair. “I just have never lost control of myself
like that.”

“It’s okay to lose control sometimes.”

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“Are you sure?”

She thought about it, not completely sure of
the answer. But she smiled and nodded,
more to herself than anything else.

***

It was some time before Scarlett returned to
set. Bryson had gone to the bathroom and
cleaned up before going back out, alone.
They’d agreed it was best if nobody saw them
together, given how disheveled both of them
were after the carnage in the office.

Scarlett found a small shower and used it,
despite the fact that there was only soap
from the soap dispensers and the floor of the
shower was rusty and discolored. She needed
to wash herself off before going back out
there.

202/257

She was stinging and burning from each and
every direction, but she also felt alive with
every fiber of her being. Bryson had simul-
taneously violated her and made her whole,
taken her dignity and given her exactly what
she’d wanted. She wanted closeness, she
wanted to be controlled, to be truly taken
without conditions—and he had gladly and
naturally provided it.

Already she wished to have him back again,
to feel his hard body against her own, to feel
his lips on her neck, her breasts, to have his
cock in her mouth.

A little voice piped up as she was showering.

This is just the same thing you’ve done your
whole life. You’re going to ruin everything
just like always.

Scarlett felt the sting of water against her
face and in her eyes and didn’t know if there

203/257

were tears there as well. She finally got out
and changed back into her clothes, left the
bathrooms and found her way back to set.

She half-expected everyone to be staring at
her, whispering, laughing at her as they com-
mented under their breath about what a little
slut she was. Shagging the director, that was
about the oldest trick in the book, wasn’t it?

But nobody paid her any attention at all.
Everyone was back at work, and Bryson was
busy talking with Eliza and Dale about the
next scene they were shooting. If there was
tension between Bryson and Dale, it wasn’t
apparent in the way they were behaving with
one another at the moment. So maybe they’d
settled things for now, she thought, watching
them from a safe distance.

“How cute are they?” a voice asked from just
over her shoulder.

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Scarlett turned her head and caught site of
Lydia, smiling from ear-to-ear.

“How cute are who?” Scarlett replied, finding
herself rather annoyed that her

“bestie” was still hovering around, like a gnat
that couldn’t be squashed no matter how big
a fly swatter was used on it.

“Bryson and Eliza, of course. Don’t you think
they would totally look amazing together on
the red carpet?”

“I guess.”

“Unless…you’re not interested in him, are
you?”

“Of course not.”

“Right, because you said that there was noth-
ing going on between you guys.”

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“It’s not really your business either way, Ly-
dia,” Scarlett told her, finally snapping.

Lydia smirked. “Even if you are into Bryson,
you just better hope Eliza doesn’t take a lik-
ing to him.” She started to walk away. “Be-
cause, if she does, you wouldn’t stand a
chance in hell,” Lydia called back, as she left.

Scarlett watched her go, a retort rising to her
lips. She bit her tongue—yet again—knowing
she had too much to lose by getting nasty
with Lydia right now.

Instead, she just tried to stay out of her way.

The day wore on, and Lydia somehow man-
aged to hang around, and before long, Scar-
lett saw her wearing headphones and buddy-
ing up with a sound engineer, giving Dale
Nolan a high-five, and joking and laughing
with Eliza Johnston in between takes.

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Somehow, Scarlett thought, it was as if Lydia
had ingratiated her way onto the film in a
way that Scarlett couldn’t seem to do. In a
matter of hours she’d forged little relation-
ships and become part of the whole scene.

Scarlett left early, telling Bryson she had a
horrible headache.

He looked at her, concerned. “Is that really
all it is?” he said.

“Of course.”

He looked slightly relieved. “Go home and
get some rest. Take some Advil.

Okay?”

“I will, I promise,” she said, flashing a smile.

And then she left, making sure to avoid Lydia
at all costs.

207/257

***

She was in the bath when she heard the
sound of her phone buzzing from nearby.

She almost hadn’t even brought it into the
bathroom with her, but now she picked it up
off the floor and looked at it.

There was a text from Bryson.

Are you feeling better?

She texted back, a small smile playing on her
lips. Had she been waiting, hoping to hear
from him? Of course she had, even if she’d
been trying not to think about him at all.

Hey, feeling better. Thanx. How was the rest
of the day?

A little time went by. She sat up and turned
on the hot water, since the tub was starting
to cool off.

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I want to talk.

Her stomach twisted. What did that mean?
Talk?

She bit her lower lip as she replied.

OK. When do you want to talk?

He shot back a response like they were
playing Ping-Pong.

I’m nearby. Can I come over?

Now her heart had begun to race. He wanted
to come over. That made her think about
what had happened the last time he’d shown
up at her place, not to mention what had
gone on just earlier that day between them.

Yes. When will u be here?

Ten minutes.

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She was already getting out of the tub, want-
ing to be at least somewhat presentable
when he got there. The whole time she got
ready, she was wondering what he wanted to
discuss. She hoped that he wasn’t coming
over just to fire her again or tell her he re-
gretted what had happened between them.

Just the thought of it was enough to suck the
wind out of her.

She tried hard not to jump to conclusions,
especially when she hardly had time to
change and tidy the place up.

She kept it simple, wearing a pair of navy
blue track pants and a white t-shirt, her hair
pulled back in a ponytail. She did her lipstick
and a very little bit of foundation, but that
was it.

Then she simply straightened up and lit
some scented candles.

210/257

Scarlett was frightened and excited, hoping
against hope that Bryson was coming for
good reasons and not to say anything hurtful
or difficult. A rejection right now would dev-
astate her. It would prove that every fear she
harbored about getting involved with him
had been true.

It seemed like much longer than ten minutes
before he finally came over. But when she fi-
nally opened the door and let him in, she
nearly lost her breath.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment.
“Thanks for letting me come by,” he said,
still standing in the hallway. “I appreciate it.”
He stared past her uncertainly.

“You’re acting weird.” She stood aside.
“Want to come inside?”

“Sure.” He walked past her, hands stuffed in
the pockets of the green windbreaker he

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wore. His hair was tousled, perhaps by the
wind. It still looked perfectly stylish. “I’m
sorry if I seem weird.”

Now she was getting nervous. This felt like it
was heading for the whole “we made a big
mistake” type of conversations.

She watched Bryson pace into her living
room.

“Why don’t you just tell me whatever you
wanted to say and get it over with?”

she asked, crossing her arms.

He nodded. His eyes met hers again and he
looked away. “I’ve just been thinking a lot
about what we did today.” He stared down at
the floor and shook his head.

212/257

Scarlett felt sick, literally, sick to her stom-
ach. “Fine. You think we made a mistake—I
get it.”

He looked up, eyes wide. “Is that how you
feel?”

“Bryson, don’t try to turn this on me. Say
what you came to say.” She could feel the an-
ger rising, like bile in her throat. She should
have known this was coming, should have
never allowed herself to dare to believe they
could be anything together.

“I don’t even know exactly what I’m trying to
say. I’m confused.”

She sighed. “I think I’ve heard this one be-
fore. It’s not you, it’s me—let’s stay good
friends.”

“Don’t be like this, Scarlett.”

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“Like what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing towards her.
“Bitter.”

“I don’t want to be played with,” she said. “If
you don’t want to see me, stop coming to my
damn apartment, Bryson.”

“I never said I didn’t want to see you. You’re
the one who keeps saying that.”

“Then what?” she nearly yelled.

“I’m confused!” he yelled back. “I lost control
of myself today with you. I’ve never felt like
that before.” His eyes turned towards her, his
nostrils flared as he came forward.

Scarlett felt her nipples harden in response.
Just like that, her mouth was dry and
everything else was soaking wet. “Is that
such a bad thing?” she asked, quietly.

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“I don’t know,” he said. He looked be-
wildered. “It scares me to think that I could
be that kind of guy who does crazy shit like
that. What if I’d hurt you?”

“But you didn’t hurt me,” she smiled. “I liked
it. I loved it.”

“Why?”

Now it was her turn to be stopped cold.

“Why?”

“Yeah, why?”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s a big
question.”

Bryson was only a foot or two away from her
now. They were standing in the middle of her
apartment, looking at one another. She’d
never felt an electricity charge in the air the
way she did at that moment. “I want to

215/257

understand you,” he said, with a quiet de-
termination that turned her on more than
anything else he’d ever done or said.

“Are you sure about that?” she said,
frightened now.

“Yes,” he said. Unfazed.

“Well then,” she said, “maybe we should
have a beer or something. I know I’m going
to need one.”

“Fine. You want to go to a bar?”

“I have some beer,” she said. “Wait here a
second.” Scarlett went and grabbed two
bottles of beer leftover from a six-pack she’d
gotten some time ago. She opened them and
sniffed. They didn’t smell like they’d gone
bad or anything. She brought out the beer
and then a bag of chips and a bowl of salsa.

216/257

They sat down next to one another on the
small couch and drank their beer.

Bryson popped a few chips in his mouth.
“Okay, so tell me why.”

She turned to him, peeling at the label on the
bottle. “I didn’t exactly have a picture perfect
home life when I was a kid.”

“I figured as much from some of your
comments.”

“Well, it’s worse than you might imagine. My
mother had me when she was young, and my
dad…I don’t think the two of them had any
business being together. Still, I suppose they
tried to make it work for a little while.” Scar-
lett realized she hadn’t talked to anybody like
this in a very long time—maybe ever. But
somehow, right now, it felt right. “I must
have been two or three when Dad left.”

217/257

“So your parents were married or…?” Bryson
let the question fade into silence.

Scarlett shook her head no. “They lived to-
gether, but they never made it official for
some reason. I don’t remember much either
way. I know I missed him terribly when he
was gone—I still can recall crying when
months had gone by and he hadn’t ever come
back for me.”

“And then it was just you and your mother.”
Bryson looked at her. “That must have been
really hard.”

“In some ways, yes. But in other ways, it was
better than what came later.”

Scarlett thought about it and decided she
needed a long drink. She tilted her beer
bottle up and gulped. The burning in her
throat felt good and right. Her eyes watered
from it.

218/257

She turned back to him. “The next year or so
was just Mom and me. I remember she
worked a lot and I had a string of babysitters.
One of them was an old woman who made
me watch hours and hours of soap operas
and game shows with her. But I liked her be-
cause she gave me lots of junk food to eat.”

Bryson laughed. “Back then they didn’t know
as much about the danger of trans fats.”

Scarlett laughed with him, glad that he was
making it easier on her. But her laughter
died as she remembered what came after
that. “When my mother first met Vince, I
thought it was the coolest thing. He was
friendly, and fun, and he gave me a lot of at-
tention. For awhile, everything was good.
Vince moved in with us and we were a little
family. But the good times didn’t last long.”
She grew quiet, lost in her thoughts for a
moment.

219/257

Bryson put his beer down. “Tell me, Scarlett.
I want to know what happened.”

“Everything changed when my mother got
pregnant. I was so young, and maybe—I
don’t remember exactly what happened. I
was angry, I was misbehaving, and I don’t
know why.”

“You felt threatened?” Bryson asked.

“Maybe. I just know that even before my sis-
ter Claudia was born, things were deteriorat-
ing. Mom was having a rough pregnancy and
I had made things even tougher, and Vince
had become impatient with me.”

Bryson’s expression darkened. “Did he hit
you?”

“No, nothing like that. At least, not right
then,” Scarlett told him. “But he yelled a lot,
and I was always in trouble. They put me in

220/257

my room constantly and I had tantrums.”
Scarlett tasted bitterness in her throat. She
could hardly believe she was saying all of
this. She didn’t know if it was too much, she
didn’t know but she was powerless to stop,
now that it was pouring out of her. “And
once Claudia was born, it was as if I didn’t
even exist. I went from being always in
trouble to hardly knowing if I was alive or
not. I remember feeling transparent, like I
was a ghost in the house.”

Bryson looked disgusted. “You were just a
kid, Scarlett. You shouldn’t have ever had to
feel like that.”

She shrugged and took a deep breath. “About
a year later, Mom got pregnant again. This
time, she had Dina. Dina and Claudia were
like the dynamic duo. The two of them could
do no wrong. Dina was cute and funny and
Claudia was super bright and athletic. I was

221/257

the weird one, the one who didn’t fit in with
everyone else.”

Bryson folded his arms and shifted in his
seat. His teeth were clenched. “So they just
marginalized

you?

Left

you

out

of

everything?”

It touched her that he was so clearly angry
on her behalf. “The way they saw it, I was be-
ing a brat most of the time and so I was just
being punished for it. My sisters would tell
on me for just about anything, because they
knew my parents thought I was misbehaving.
Pretty soon I decided to just go along with
what everyone thought of me, and I em-
braced my reputation as the bad child.”

“Your parents are lucky they’re not here right
now,” Bryson said. “I swear to God, Scarlett.
If I ever set eyes on this stepfather of
yours—“

222/257

She put her hand on his, and squeezed. “It’s
okay.”

“No it’s not okay, it’s fucking horrific.”

And the worst part is, she thought, he hasn’t
even heard anything yet.

“I started acting out more and more,” Scar-
lett said. “I argued all the time. The punish-
ments got worse. I lost all my privileges. I
can remember being in my room all day on
Saturday and Sunday, listening to the rest of
my family watching movies, eating ice
cream, laughing and having a grand old time
together. I wasn’t allowed to do much be-
sides clean my room, do schoolwork, or do
yard work outside.”

“What a raw deal. That’s insane.”

“Maybe so. I thought it was a raw deal,” Scar-
lett told him. “And when I got a little older

223/257

and bigger, I really rebelled. I started refus-
ing my punishments. I started fighting back.”

“Good for you,” Bryson said.

“Not really. The more I fought back, the
worse everything got. If I wouldn’t go to my
room, Vince and Mom would physically drag
me in. I would resist. The physical alterca-
tions got worse and worse, with my sisters
screaming and crying while they watched my
stepdad drag me by my hair. Eventually he
started throwing me on the ground and put-
ting a knee in my back.”

Bryson’s eyes were slightly wet as he listened
to her. He licked his lips. “You know that’s
abuse, right?”

Scarlett smiled crookedly. “I know it hurt. I
know I was afraid. But I also kind of got off
on it, because I knew that they could never

224/257

break me. I knew that I could take anything
they dished out. Anything.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bryson whispered.

“It went on like that until I was twelve. I had
bruises occasionally, but I knew how to ex-
plain them away.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone?”

“I still—believe it or not—loved my family. I
didn’t want to get them all in trouble. It was
my own little battle to fight and I wasn’t try-
ing to get reinforcements.

Maybe I was just too dumb.”

“Don’t say that.”

She laughed. She knew this was affecting
him greatly, and perhaps it was turning him
off, making him want to run. She wouldn’t
blame him if so. But it was the truth, and it

225/257

felt good to say it aloud, for the first time in a
very long time.

But now came the truly difficult part. She
swallowed, trying to brace herself for it. “I
suppose it hurt everyone, not just me,” Scar-
lett said. “I was getting the brunt of it, but
nobody got off Scott-free. And maybe
nobody noticed that Claudia was struggling
in her own ways. Nobody noticed that she
liked playing with matches, or the little fires
that had started in a trashcan, on the stove
one time, another in the backyard. Some-
how, it was all explained away.”

Bryson was pale. “Scarlett, for god’s
sake…don’t tell me…”

“I often ask myself if I knew. I feel like I
should have known, that maybe I saw it com-
ing and didn’t stop it. I don’t know the truth.
I just remember waking up one night and
there was smoke everywhere and I was

226/257

coughing and choking. I got up, and my eyes
were burning so bad and I couldn’t breathe. I
was truly afraid for my life. But I knew
something horrible had happened, and my
first thought was for little Dina. I went and
picked her up and carried her out of the
house. Claudia was already outside, terrified,
screaming and crying—begging me not to tell
anyone what she’d done.”

Bryson’s hands were curled into fists, white-
knuckled. “Did someone die?”

“No,” Scarlett said. “Luckily, nobody died.
But Vince was badly burned. He had third
degree burns on both his legs. My mother
had a severe case of smoke inhalation.”

“And what happened when they found out
that Claudia set that fire and you saved
Dina?”

227/257

“They never found out,” Scarlett said, meet-
ing his gaze. “I told them I’d done it.

I told them I set the fire.”

He put a hand to his forehead. “Why? Why
did you take the blame?”

“Because I knew Claudia couldn’t handle it
and I could. I knew I was strong enough.”

Bryson just stared at her. “Scarlett…I can’t
believe what I’m hearing.”

She exhaled, relieved that the worst of the
story was over. “I was sent away.

First, I went to a group home for children
with psychiatric problems. But I was only
there for a few months, because they soon
realized I was very stable compared to the
other kids in the program. After that I was
sent to live with a distant aunt, a woman I’d

228/257

never met before. She was older, and her
husband was older, their kids all grown up.”

“Please tell me they loved you and treated
you well,” he said. “Please tell me something
got better.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t so bad, I
guess. It was a place to live. I don’t think
either of them really wanted to deal with a
teenage girl with the kind of baggage I had,
but maybe they felt an obligation, being
blood related to me. I can’t say. I just know
that I felt invisible again. I was invisible for
the next four years. And when I turned six-
teen, I left and went out on my own. I never
looked back.”

Bryson stared at her, clearly in awe. “You’ve
been completely on your own since you were
sixteen years old?”

229/257

Scarlett nodded. “Pretty much. Unless you
count some of the dirt bag guys I got in-
volved with who put me up from time to
time.”

“Like Hunter?”

She groaned. “Let’s not go there. Please.”

He smiled. “Fair enough.” Then his eyes
grew intense. “I’m so sorry for what you went
through. No kid should have to deal with
that. It makes me angry.”

“Me too, if I dwell on it.”

“But I still don’t understand how it fits in
with my question.”

Scarlett had torn the label off her beer bottle
and pulled it to bits while talking.

She put the beer down on the table and
looked at him. “Your question was about why

230/257

I enjoy being punished. Doesn’t my upbring-
ing explain it?”

“I don’t know. Does it?” he asked.

“It’s familiar,” she said. “And somehow—I
can’t tell you why—it makes me feel power-
ful. I like to fight against something, and
sometimes…I guess I like to lose, too.”

“Or maybe when you’re being punished, you
don’t feel invisible anymore,”

Bryson said softly.

His words hit her like a blow to the chest. At
the same time, her eyes welled up.

She smiled. “That might be the most insight-
ful thing anyone’s ever said to me,” she told
him.

Bryson stared at her, his eyes registering a
new hunger. “And then again, maybe I’m

231/257

used to getting what I want. Maybe I’m just
another one of those jerks who took advant-
age of a beautiful person.”

She smiled kindly and caressed his cheek.
“It’s not taking advantage if I asked you for
it. Maybe it’s my therapy.”

“So now I’m your therapist?”

“After this, it sure feels that way.”

“Then I suppose I should make a formal dia-
gnosis,” he said. He shifted his weight to-
wards her.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot, you need to tell me
what’s wrong with me,” she said.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you.
Nothing.” His hand came up and cupped the
side of her face. He looked at her and she’d
never seen such compassionate, kind eyes.

232/257

She’d never seen love like that, never. Only
in her dreams, perhaps. She could hardly
breathe as she tried to meet his gaze.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You, Scarlett, are amazing. You’re the most
amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’m so
grateful to know you.” His voice caught a
little near the end. “And I promise I won’t let
you down. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Again?” she asked, confused.

He looked quickly away. “Just remember
what I told you.” He looked back at her.
“Don’t ever let anyone make you doubt
yourself.”

She smiled. “Okay. I mean, yes, doctor.”

And then his lips were on hers once more,
and she responded with everything she had.

233/257

She was exhausted, mentally and physically
and emotionally, from telling him things that
nobody else in the world knew about her.

“You’ll never be invisible to me,” he said,
when he took his lips from hers. His eyes
searched hers.

She moaned. “I need to feel you. I need to
feel real.”

“You are real, you’re realer than anything
else in this world.” His breath on her lips, as
he pushed her down on the couch, his body
pressing on top of her. They were kissing, by
turns softly and then fiercely, as if they
couldn’t get enough of one another.

Scarlett realized now why she felt so differ-
ent when Bryson touched her and kissed her
and entered her. It was different because
somehow she truly felt seen by him, like she
was no longer invisible.

234/257

It was as if his touch was the thing that
brought her flesh from transparency to real-
ity, from gray to color. And the entire world
seemed to come into focus.

She needed to touch him, to make him feel
the way he made her feel.

His hands roamed over her body, pulling up
her t-shirt and caressing her tender, sensit-
ive breasts. And then his lips were sucking
her nipples, and she was crying.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“God, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He went back, and his lips were on fire
against her skin, and she cried out over and
over again.

They stripped one another’s clothes off until
they were stark naked, skin on skin, nothing

235/257

between them. There was truly nothing
between them now, she thought, as his eyes
stayed focused on hers.

He entered her with little foreplay, but it
didn’t matter, because she was already soak-
ing wet and needing him badly.

He stroked her slowly, slowly, his chest
against hers, his lips practically touching
hers.

His hands grabbed her hips and pulled her
closer as he pushed deeply inside of her,
spreading her until there was nowhere else
to go. She cried out.

She climaxed quickly, and then she thought
it was over and she climaxed again.

Bryson closed his eyes. “I can barely take it,”
he said. “You feel too good,” he gasped.

236/257

“It’s okay, you can finish.”

“Okay,” he said, groaning with even more
pleasure as he continued slowly stroking in
and out of her.

His body was rhythmic and precise, and he
continued to look into her eyes.

Finally, as if he could take it no more, he
closed his eyes and exhaled quickly—she felt
him stop inside of her, and release
everything.

***

Later, they were lying in bed together,
nestled like a couple of pups, limbs tangled,
voices low, whispering and laughing and
everything was just loose and flowing and
perfectly right.

237/257

At one point, he turned and she once again
saw the tattoo on his back, the black butter-
fly. “Now that I’ve told you my crazy past,”
she said, and traced it lightly with her hand.
“Maybe you can tell me about this?”

His entire body stiffened and she instantly
knew she’d made a mistake.

She was flustered. “I mean, you don’t have
to. It’s not a big deal…”

Bryson relaxed and took her hand, kissing it.
“I do want to tell you. I think it’s a story for
another time, though. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded, smiling.

They lay back together again, murmuring
and kissing, and then both started to drift
after some time.

Or maybe only she was drifting to sleep.

238/257

“Are you awake?” he asked.

She opened her eyes. “Sort of.”

He looked at her, his hand reached out and
caressed her hair. “Scarlett, I think I’m start-
ing to—“

Suddenly, the tinkling ringtone of Bryson’s
cell phone blared at them from his jeans sit-
ting below them on the floor.

Scarlett had to laugh at the timing. She was
almost certain he was about to say, I think
I’m starting to fall in love with you, but
she’d never know now. The phone blared its
ring again.

Bryson hung his head. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“You can get it,” she told him. “I
understand.”

239/257

Feeling him withdraw was one of the loneli-
est things she could have imagined at that
moment, and the next thing she knew, he
was sitting up with his phone to his ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked tersely into it.

He listened for a time.

Scarlett curled up and watched him as he
listened for a while.

Bryson sighed. “Look, now’s not really a
good time.” He sighed again and shook his
head. “No, because…it’s late and I’ve got
some personal things to attend to. I’m sorry,
I can’t meet with you.”

Scarlett sat up, fully awake now.

He got off the phone and shook his head. “I
never should have answered that.

What the hell was I thinking?”

240/257

“Who was it?”

He looked at her. “Eliza Johnston, having
some meltdown yet again about god only
knows what.”

“And she wanted to see you?” Scarlett asked.
It was so late at night, it hardly made sense.

“Yeah, apparently. It’s like her and Dale tag-
team me. One day he makes my life hell, the
next it’s her.”

“He already made your life hell earlier
today.”

“Technically that was yesterday,” Bryson cor-
rected her. “Anyway, I need to get some
sleep.”

Scarlett felt anxious. “Was she angry that you
said no to meeting her?”

241/257

He started to slide back into bed. “Of course
she was angry. You know how she is.”

“Then you should go.”

“What?” He looked at her like she was in-
sane. “I’m not going to leave you in the
middle of the night to meet with her.”

His complete aversion to Eliza warmed Scar-
lett’s heart. She felt a surge of love and con-
fidence. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “I trust
you. Just go and deal with her and smooth
things over.”

“You’re serious?” His eyes searched to see if
this was a test.

“I am.”

He sat up again. “Well, if you really think it’s
okay—“

“Just…don’t fall for her.”

242/257

“Fall for Eliza Johnston? She’s got the emo-
tional maturity of a toddler.”

“But she’s got the body of a goddess.”

“She’s nothing compared to you,” Bryson
said, and moved in to kiss her for a long
moment.

And then he was getting up, getting dressed,
calling Eliza and telling her that he’d meet
her after all. Scarlett followed him as he
made his way to the door.

Finally, they stood together and kissed one
last time. Bryson touched her cheek again
and his eyes were soft. “You’re the best,” he
said.

“I know.” She grinned.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” he told her.
“Wish me luck.”

243/257

As he left, she called out to him. “Good luck!”

Then, he was gone and the doubts came
rushing in. Who in their right mind would
send their man off to be with Eliza
Johnston?

Am I trying to ruin my own life?

No, Scarlett reminded herself. If you love
someone, set them free. If they’re really
meant to be yours, they’ll come back to you.

***

Maybe it was just exhaustion.

Scarlett had figured she’d be up all night,
picturing Bryson and Eliza together, imagin-
ing all kinds of awful scenarios, waiting for a
phone call or a text from him. But strangely,
she’d actually gone to sleep and slept deeply
through the night.

244/257

That’s why, as she got up and showered, than
dressed that morning, a fresh burst of butter-
flies attacked her insides. There had been no
late night or early morning texts or calls
from Bryson.

It occurred to her that maybe she should call
or text him first. So she did, but he didn’t an-
swer, and she thought he might still be
asleep. So she decided to go to him instead.
In the time it took her to get to his apart-
ment, he would probably be waking up
anyhow.

She felt absurdly happy on the cab ride to
Bryson’s apartment.

There’s something special there and I’m not
going to let my own fears and insecurities
ruin that.

Scarlett felt reinvigorated, knowing that
what had happened between them last night

245/257

had been real. She was confident enough to
go to him, and she was proud of that.

She got out of the cab and walked into
Bryson’s building, greeting the concierge
with enthusiasm. “Hi,” she said. “Could you
ring Bryson Taylor and tell him that Scarlett
Evers is downstairs?”

“Certainly,” the concierge said, and then he
picked up his phone and made the call.

He held it to his ear a long while. Finally, he
placed the phone back in its receiver. “I’m
sorry, but nobody’s answering at the
moment.”

She’d been through this song and dance be-
fore. “Okay,” she said, slowly feeling more
and more nervous and frustrated. She went
and sat down in a chair near the door and
checked her cell.

246/257

Just then, the front desk phone rang and the
attendant picked up. Whatever was said, he
appeared apologetic. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll be
right there, ma’am.” And with that, he bolted
from his desk and down the hall to god only
knew where.

Scarlett sat there for a moment, and then de-
cided—to hell with it—she’d just go up and
knock to be sure. Getting out of her seat, she
moved quickly and pushed the call button for
the elevator. Eventually, after what felt like
forever, it arrived and she got in.

When it stopped at Bryson’s floor, she had
the first sense of true foreboding. She was
struck by the urge to cut and run, but pushed
herself forward, urging herself not to be silly
and scared for no good reason.

Her stomach churned and she clenched her
teeth anxiously, as she approached his door.

247/257

She knocked three times, loudly and in suc-
cession. Then she waited.

Her feet were tapping and her hands were
jittery. She fixed her hair, trying to smile and
recapture the upbeat feeling she’d had not so
long ago.

He’s just asleep or he’s gone for coffee, she
theorized. Or maybe he’s got earplugs in or
something.

But then the door was being unlocked from
the inside and it swung open just enough for
her to see a woman’s face peering out at her.
“Can I help you?” the woman said.

Scarlett was struck dumb. She soon realized
that she was looking at Eliza Johnston in the
morning, without her makeup and hair hav-
ing been done.

248/257

“Scarlett, what are you doing here?” Eliza
asked.

“I…I was supposed to meet Bryson…” she
muttered.

“He didn’t mention it,” Eliza said, turning
from the door. She was wearing one of
Bryson’s shirts, and nothing else from the
looks of it. “Bryson?” Eliza called out.

Scarlett simply turned and left, not even
bothering to wait for what else was to come.
Her mind was practically blank. She was in
shock.

By the time she’d gotten in the elevator and
reached the first floor, her shock was begin-
ning to wear off, like Novocain that had been
covering up severe tooth pain. It was starting
to hurt, and hurt badly.

249/257

“Ma’am, where are you coming from? I told
you, he wasn’t answering,” the concierge
said, back at his desk now. “You can’t just go
to a tenant’s apartment without being rang
in.”

She ignored the concierge, her feet somehow
still carrying her forward despite herself.
“It’s okay, I’m leaving anyway,” she said
weakly, as she opened the door and headed
out of the building.

And that’s when she heard Bryson calling her
name. “Scarlett!”

She didn’t respond, just kept walking.

“Wait a minute. Hey!” Bryson was running to
her from behind. “Please, don’t get the
wrong idea. Nothing happened at all. She
just needed me—“

250/257

“She needed you?” Scarlett said, still walk-
ing. “Needed you for what?”

He walked by her side, trying to make eye
contact. “I know this doesn’t sound or look
good. I know this seems bad to you. But it’s
not, okay? She’s just kind of confused right
now and I had an obligation to try and help
her. I couldn’t send her home.”

Scarlett sped up her pace. “She’s an adult
with plenty of options. She could fly to
Egypt. She could stay at the Ritz. She could
do anything, Bryson.”

“I know. I know. But it’s not that simple for
me. You see, she’s kind of struggling and I—“

He reached out to touch her shoulder and
she shrugged him away. She looked at him
and she was filled with hate. “Do not touch
me. Do not.” She was almost running now,

251/257

but Bryson was so tall and rangy that he kept
up with her easily.

“I can explain,” he said. “Remember the tat-
too you asked me about last night?”

Something about that brought out all her
pain and anger. So now he wanted to tell her
all about his stupid tattoo? The thing that
he’d refused to say a word about the other
times she’d nicely asked him to?

“Fuck your tattoo!” she cried.

“Scarlett,” he said.

“I’m serious, Bryson. Leave me alone.” She
started almost to jog, finally settling back in-
to a walk again. He was behind her now, still
walking, but slowing down.

252/257

Scarlett looked back after a minute or two
and he was still behind her, walking, as if
waiting for her to wear down and stop.

She couldn’t believe she’d been dumb and
naïve enough to drive over there, prancing
in, wanting to see him and talk to
him—thinking he actually cared about her!

Eliza Johnston had spent the night. She’d
been wearing his clothes. It was so obvious
they’d been together.

You don’t know that.

After a while, she wondered if Bryson would
finally try and catch up to her again.

She could sense him behind her, still follow-
ing her.

She looked back.

253/257

It was true that she was still being followed.
It was a man, but it definitely was not
Bryson. Whoever it was, was wearing a
ragged sweater. They had a baseball cap
pulled low over their head.

Bryson was nowhere to be seen and now she
realized that she was at risk.

She didn’t want to find out, and began walk-
ing more quickly.

The person was still there, when she turned
around again to check. Finally, Scarlett
dipped into a bookstore and made her way to
an empty isle, thinking she’d lost him. She
pulled out a book and pretended to read.

But then she saw the trademark baseball cap,
and she knew she hadn’t evaded her stalker
at all.

254/257

He turned the corner of the isle and their
eyes met.

She dropped the book from her numb fin-
gers. “Oh my God,” she said. The book hit
the carpet with a muted thud.

The man took off his cap and now she knew
for sure who it was—even as he spoke for the
first time.

She couldn’t take her eyes from the man’s
face. She’d never expected to see him again.
Never in a million years. And yet here he
was, and he’d somehow tracked her down.

“I have something I need to tell you,” he
began.

255/257

THE END

Look for the next book in the series (Book
15), coming in February!

@Created by

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