Page 99 of Cast to be Mine

“And you didn’t think maybe that was information you should keep to yourself?”

Jack’s brow furrowed, like I was the one being unreasonable. “I thought everyone knew. Chantilly said it was an open secret.”

“It wasn’t open! It wasn’t even a secret because we were keeping it private!” I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to think. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”

“I mean, it’s not that big a deal, right? People date on set all the time.”

I stared at him. This man had been in the industry for two decades. He’d been through more scandals than I could count. And he genuinely didn’t understand why this was a problem.

“I have to get to set,” I muttered.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I found Toby in the lobby twenty minutes later, his eyes wide with his phone clutched in both hands like a lifeline.

“I know,” I said before he could speak. “I know.”

“It’s everywhere,” he said. “Twitter’s going crazy. Entertainment Tonight already put out a breaking news alert. TMZ is running with it as their lead story.”

“How bad?”

Toby winced. “Bad. People are already speculating about when it started. Whether she got the role because of the relationship. The usual stuff.”

The usual stuff. Like it was routine for your entire career to implode before breakfast.

“Where’s Grace?”

“Makeup trailer. I don’t think she’s seen it yet.”

I had to tell her. Before she found out from someone else. Before she saw the headlines and thought I’d betrayed her trust.

“Vans are ready,” he said. “We need to go.”

The final day of shooting in Hawaii was supposed to be triumphant. The culmination of weeks of hard work, stunning footage, and a crew that had pulled together despite every obstacle thrown at them.

Instead, it felt like a funeral march.

By the time we reached the location, the story had spread everywhere. My phone hadn’t stopped buzzing since we left the hotel. Texts from my father. From Carol at the studio. From people I hadn’t talked to in years, all suddenly very interested in my personal life.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and tried to focus on the work. We had eight setups to get through today. Eight crucial scenes that would make or break the third act. I didn’t have time for this bullshit.

But the bullshit was everywhere.

I felt the whispers the moment I stepped onto the beach. Crew members who’d been chatting went quiet when I walked past. Eyes darted away. Conversations resumed in hushed tones once they thought I was out of earshot.

They were talking about us. About me and Grace. Speculating about when it started, how long it had been going on, whether I’d cast her because I wanted to sleep with her. Or if we’d been sleeping together and that was how she’d gotten the part. She was unknown and suddenly she was starring opposite Jack Montana.

It pissed me off.

Grace had earned this role. She’d fought for it, bled for it, delivered performances that had blown me away day after day. And now all of that was going to be overshadowed by gossip and innuendo.

I spotted her trailer across the beach, door firmly closed. She’d been in there since we arrived. Hiding. I didn’t blame her.

Every instinct screamed at me to go to her. I wanted to tell her we’d figure this out together. But I couldn’t. Not with every eye on set tracking my movements. Not when going to her trailer would just feed the fire.

So I did the only thing I could do. I worked.

“Let’s get the first setup ready,” I called out, my voice steadier than I felt. “We’re burning daylight.”