“I still make time for what’s important to me,” I answer, refusing to look at him even though I can feel his eyes locked on me. It’s one thing to have to talk to him. I don’t have to see his face too.
“Apparently. You know, I think I speak for everyone when I say we were all a little shocked that your MIA status was because you were actually in a serious relationship with a paparazzi photographer who is also your baby mama,” he says. That’senough to make me punch the stop button on the treadmill and jerk my attention over to him.
“Who said she was a paparazzi photographer?” I grit out.
“Oh, come on. This shit’s not hard to find on the internet, Calloway. One quick image search and everyone knows who she is,” he grins. I’m ready to knock his pretty teeth out, but I keep my cool and clench my fist at my side instead.
“I’m not really sure why you’re so focused on my life, but maybe if you focused more on your own, you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your career walking in my footsteps,” I tell him. I hope it’s enough of a jab to end the conversation. But, like I said, Jett isn’t the most intelligent guy.
“Nice attempt at rerouting the conversation. But I am still curious about something else. It’s not impossible to hide a woman or even an entire relationship, but it’s a little more difficult to hide a baby, not to mention a pregnancy,” he says, and I narrow my eyes on him.
“What are you implying, Navarro?” I ask.
“You know there are no photos of your girlfriend in the last year where she has so much as even a hint of a baby bump?” he asks.
“Believe it or not, not everyone takes photos of themselves twenty times a day,” I say.
“I’m just curious what you’re hiding, Calloway. I think it’s more than a relationship and a secret baby. I think there’s more to it.”
I take a step closer, looking him dead in his eyes. “I think you should keep your eyes on what belongs to you and stay away from what’s mine,” I say before walking away.
“Kind of hard not to stare at your train wreck when your girl is literally the tabloid queen,” he calls out, and I just keep walking.
Chapter 32
Ashlyn
The dayafter our zoo adventure, I spend my morning and early afternoon sitting at the park. It’s not far from Beverly Hills, and a lot of celebrities frequent there. Probably because of the running trails and proximity to coffee shops. So I go for a walk in workout gear, a baseball cap and sunglasses to hide my face as much as possible. Then I casually snap photos of public figures as they jog by.
I know what the headlines will say.
Jenny Devrise going for a morning run to keep her beach bod for Salty Tides season two.
Carmen Michaels and James Richards seen for the second time together, this time with dogs in tow. Are they living together as everyone suspects?
My job is creepy; I am well aware. I guess that’s why I do my best to take the least invasive photos possible. They’re interesting enough to pause the doom-scrollers. I don’t feel as guilty about these photos as I do about some of the things Deborah asks me for.
Ever since the completely out of character phone call, I’ve been in my head. I’ve known since she handed me the new camera what strings were going to be attached. I’ve done my best to avoid them, playing dumb by sending her photos that are hot, but not juicy and certainly not what she was asking for. That only worked for so long, and now there’s an ultimatum involved. The phone call was proof of that.
So I have Demi meet me at the park after snapping enough photos that I can say I did work today. I need someone to talk to, and I know she knows something is up.
“How was work?” She asks as she stretches like we are going on some adrenaline-spiking run or something. “Any life ruining photos?”
“Not unless Robin Shores spilling her protein shake down her shirt would actually be life ruining,” I say as I tuck my camera away.
“I mean, for her, that sounds like a bad day. Those HGTV girls have to have it all together all the time, you know,” she smiles.
Demi is dressed similarly to me. The only difference is our motives for appearing anonymous. I hide my appearance from the public because I am low-key taking candid photos of people. She hides because even though it’s been a minute since she was on Billionaire Hearts, people still recognize her as the girl who walked away alone by choice.
“How’s the baby?” she asks as we start walking.
“Happy. Fussy. Messy. Curious. Adorable,” I say with a smile. “He’s been trying to hold his own bottle, which has been amazing. And he can almost sit up on his own.”
“Little stinker,” she smiles. “And Zane?”
“What about him?” I ask and Demi tosses me a look. I smile.
“He’s good. Things are really good,” I say.
