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She drove away, frowning and lost in thought.
"There's a great beach in Santa Monica. Let's go there," I suggested, and she nodded. "What's the matter, Lo?"
She blew out a deep breath. "I just can't believe I did this to myself."
"Did you get fired? I was hoping everything was okay because you guys were filming."
"They didn't fire me," she said, then said nothing further.
"You wanna talk about it?" I asked.
"Is there a bar near this beach?"
* * *
In the end, we bought beers and sat on the pier, drinking them out of paper bags.
"This is so… slummy," Lowell said before swigging her beer. "It's so slummy it's awesome."
I watched her face. "You don't relax much, do you?"
"All I do is work. For all the good it's done me." She stared at the water. "So… back to Lucas. He didn't fire me, but he said they'd talked about it. I'm basically on probation. I have to get in shape before the shoot. They pushed it back six weeks so I have enough time to starve myself." She read the calorie contents on the beer and groaned.
I shook my head. "That's ridiculous, Lo. Did they actually tell you to lose weight? 'Cause I thought that was illegal."
"They didn't say 'lose weight'—they said come back in six weeks and weigh less." She shrugged. "It is what it is. They also said that I need to make this"—she motioned between us—"work. They appreciated that I've publicly rebounded in less than twenty-four hours. They said you've gotten me amazing approval ratings—better than before my, er… incident. So I need to keep you around and make the most of the press momentum."
"So that's good," I said, grinning at her. "You keep getting paid; I keep getting paid."
"We can't let anyone find out about us." Worry creased her forehead. "If it gets out that we knew each other… that our parents were married… that you're my escort… I'm dead. Tori's the only one who can know. "
I swung my feet over the water, back and forth, nervous energy bubbling through me. "Tori's not the only one who knows."
She looked stricken. "Did you tell Ellie? 'Cause she's really sheltered. She probably really can't handle that—"
"I didn't tell Ellie," I said. "I told my father."
She looked stunned. "What? Why?"
"So he wouldn't blackmail you into firing me, Lo."
She looked at me, surprise and anger playing out on her face. "You told him the truth? We have an agreement. A non-disclosure agreement."
She shifted her weight as though she was about to stand up, but I put my hand on her. "Wait. Please." I held my breath until she'd sat back down. "He'd already seen the pictures. I didn't know it, but he's had his assistant keeping track of me."
She looked at me, waiting.
When I was pretty sure she wasn't going to run, I continued. "He called me this morning. He threatened to call the press, to tell them that you're dating your ex-stepbrother—if I didn't break up with you immediately."
"Would he do that? To you?"
"I think my father has gotten into the habit of trying to protect me from my own bad judgment." I scrubbed my hands over my face. "I had to explain to him why it was in his best interest to keep his mouth shut. It wouldn't look too good for his latest business venture and his upcoming feature in Forbes if the press found out that his son's an escort."
"He didn't know?"
I shook my head.
"What did he say?" she asked quietly.
