Page 118 of The Golden Scoop

He keeps whispering that she’s been using me for the past three weeks. Only interested in the mask, not the man underneath. Like every other woman in my life.

I feel like screaming, physically shaking the thought out of my head. Fuck. She could’ve told me if this was the agenda they were pushing on her. The fact that she didn’t has to mean she was in on it… right?

Nothing lines up. Nothing fits.

To make matters worse, my phone starts ringing, Jennifer’s name flashes across the screen. At least she let me sleep in, I’ll give her that.

“Hey, Jen.” I sigh, bracing for what’s coming.

“This is a disaster, Matt. I’ve got the whole team on standby for damage control,” Jennifer says, her voice on edge. “People are already latching onto that headline, tugging, and twisting it into contradictions of all kinds.”

“This is not the first time this has happened,” I remind her. “We’ll deal with it like we always do. Let it cool off, then counter it with some good, charming press.”

“That would be fine… if it wasn’t about to cost you the role, Matt!” Jennifer’s trying to hold it together and not yell.

I get it. It’s her job. She takes it really seriously. It’s why she’s the best. But right now, I can’t bring myself to give a shit about What We Carry.

“We have to put out a statement. Today. I can have someone over at your place in a half hour,” she says, powering ahead. “You’ll have to explain what’s happened for the past three weeks. Any signs you might have noticed while she was following you around. We have time to turn this around on her.”

What? Are people completely losing their minds?

“Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Matt, I know you. You’re smitten, and that’s fine,” Jennifer says, “but this is your life they’re playing around with.”

I refuse to believe it’s Emma pulling the strings here. Something’s off here. I’m not issuing anything until I’ve spoken to her.

“I’m not smitten.” I sigh. I’m way past that.

Jennifer goes silent. I assume she’s reading between the lines, processing the information. Eventually, she sighs too.

“How could this happen? She had fun in New York, didn’t she?” Alright, maybe my feelings aren’t that obvious. “I thought you knew her, Matt.”

“Yeah, so did I.”

She curses under her breath, and I can practically sense her gears turning.

“Look, give me a couple of days before you mobilize your team of social media crazies.”

“Fine,” Jen mutters. “Stay inside. There are a million cameras all over your place. I mean it.”

My head turns toward the windows. Sure enough, just outside of property lines there are at least three paparazzi trying to catch a glimpse past the privacy fence.

“Got it.”

Harrison braves the swarm of paparazzi outside my gate later that afternoon. Unannounced, but not unwelcome. I already know why he’s here. Julia’s probably taken Emma’s front and he’s stuck with me, doing damage control.

Fine by me. I could use a sounding board right about now.

There’s no small talk. Harrison doesn’t even bother saying hi. He pats me on the back and plops down on the couch, settling into the situation with a quiet nod that needs no explanation. Hollywood’s had its share of fun with him too. This is nothing new for either of us.

Moments like these make me feel weirdly grateful that we managed to stay in touch through the ups and downs. Through the distance. He doesn’t realize what a huge pillar he’s been in my life. We should all be a little more like Harrison.

“Alright,” I tell him. “What do you know?”

“Everything.”

“Tell me off, then,” I say. My split-second decision to leave has been eating at me since her door shut behind me. “Rip the Band-Aid.”