Without a word, he showed her the article and watched as the color drained from her face. She met his gaze again, horror in her eyes.
He squeezed her shoulders. “I’ll fix this. Don’t worry.” “Don’t worry?” she shouted. “This is bullshit. One picture and they’re painting me as the villain. Forget that he covered up a whole baby and an affair. Forget that his ass was arrested for sexual assault.” She whirled around and stormed out of the room. And he was right behind her. “I hate him.” Paige unlocked the patio door and pushed it open, stepping outside. Again, he followed her. “First, he sues me for breach of contract for a movie I never even agreed to make. And now this? It feels like I’ll never be free of him. And I need to be done with him.”
Andrew pulled her into his arms. He understood her anger was about more than a tabloid article. Julius had continued to antagonize her, after he’d put her through so much in their short marriage.
“Baby, it’s okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to fix this.”
Paige looked at him, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “You can’t fix this, Andrew. You can’t protect me from everything.”
“I can try,” he told her.
“You don’t get it.”
“Probably not. But as far as this article is concerned, you know how it is with the press. They’ll talk about it for a while, then it’ll die down.”
She dropped her head. “Did you read what Julius said?”
Andrew had read every word. But as angry as he was, he knew someone had to remain calm. “It doesn’t matter.”
“To you. You know how they paint black women in the media. They’re harder on us than anyone. People have been waiting for me to be the damn slut, the damn homewrecker, the damn adulterer. They won’t let this go.”
Everything she’d said was the truth. He’d seen celebrities destroyed because of perception. And it always started with an article. Most people in the industry shook it off, but Paige actually cared about her reputation. She was very aware of her image and she’d been diligent in protecting her privacy and avoiding scandals. But all of that changed when she’d married Julius Reeves. Since then, she’d been fodder for all types of blogs and gossip television shows—and now she was a target for baseless lawsuits.
“You should be mad, too,” she said. “You’re affected by this. I’m surprised your phone isn’t blowing up right now.”
Just then, his phone buzzed.His mother. Andrew didn’t answer, though. He needed to think, he needed a plan. A moment later, his phone went off again.Connor.
Andrew could have believed that his mother had called because she wanted to know if they’d made it back to South Haven safely. But since his brother had now called two times in a row, he knew they’d seen something. Maybe they’d read an article in one of his mother’s grocery store magazines.
“See?” Paige said, raising her brow. “You should probably call your family back.”
“Not right now. Let’s take a minute,” he said. “I need to—” Andrew peered down at his buzzing phone.Xavier. Turning his phone off, he sighed. “Listen, we’re fine. There’s nothing to see. We’ve been careful.”
The photographer hadn’t caught them in an embrace or even while kissing. They were walking down the street, nothing more. The captioned photo could be explained away easily. Andrew had been her agent for years. They’d attended galas, premieres, award shows, and other events together. They’d been photographed out to dinner, at parties, and even at the park before.
Andrew framed her face with his hands. “You trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. I don’t trust Julius. This is just the thing he needs to make my life more miserable.”
“Paige, that’s never going to happen. Everything will be alright.” He kissed her. “It’s cold out here. You said you wanted a shower. Why don’t you go do that while I make some calls?”
Once Paige disappeared up the stairs, Andrew pulled out his laptop. After he sent several emails, he called his mother back.
“Andrew?” Mom answered. “Where are you? Are you with Paige still? There are men with cameras here and they won’t leave. Connor almost choked one of them for peeking in my windows.”
Grumbling a curse, he asked his mother how many photographers were outside. She estimated there were approximately five. “I’m sorry, Ma. It’s because of me and Paige that they’re there.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re looking for a story, and we gave them one when we went out for a walk yesterday.”
Andrew had put the pieces together, and guessed Young Paige had posted a pic to her social media, and the gossip mill went from there. He didn’t blame the teenager. It wasn’t every day that a star of Paige’s caliber walked down a random Detroit street.
“Oh no, son. I’m sorry. If you hadn’t been here looking after me, then—”
“Don’t. I was there because I wouldn’t be anywhere else. You’re my mother.”
“But Paige . . . she’s probably so upset.”
