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He stepped closer and took hold of her chin. “I have never lied to you, Quinn. That’s one of the rules, remember?”
His level, unblinking stare almost convinced her. Almost. But by his own admission, there were only two people in the world with access to the photos, and she hadn’t sold herself out. “We don’t have any rules, remember? You canceled our contract.”
“Be careful what kind of accusations you fling at me.”
Careful wasn’t her strong suit. She jerked her chin out of his grasp. “Say you didn’t do it. Let’s hear it. I dare you.”
“If you honestly think I would do that to you, Trouble, there’s no point in me wasting my breath. We have nothing left to discuss.”
Oh no, he was not going to turn her into the villain. She turned away and spotted her sunglasses in the sand. “You don’t give a crap who plays Lena Xavier.” She bent to retrieve them. “You consider the whole industry pointless and shallow.” Straightening, she slid the glasses over her eyes. “A bunch of bullshit you want no part of.”
His expression shuttered, and he took a deliberate step back. Some of her anger fizzled in the face of his withdrawal, and panic ran cold fingers over her skin. Mission accomplished, Quinn. You’ve pissed him off.
“I consider this, right here, a perfect example of the type of bullshit I want no part of.”
She turned away and strode to her bike. “Good news, Luke. Me and my bullshit are out of here.”
…
Luke followed Quinn back to the resort to make sure she didn’t end up on the side of the road, and then went back to his room, cracked open a water from the mini-bar while hoping Quinn remembered to hydrate after her ride, and called Eddie. Lisa picked up and put him through.
His friend came on the line with a “Hey, man. Looks like your final week in Paradise will be a vacation.”
Yeah, right. He had a business to get back to, and no interest in staying in Paradise Bay without Quinn. He skipped the preliminaries and went straight to the question at hand. “How’d the pictures end up public?”
“I don’t know. I’m working on that, but it’s going to take some time. Before I get the FBI involved to determine who skimmed whose phone, any chance someone on your team sprung a leak?”
Luke walked out onto his balcony, and sipped the beer. “None. I trust my team, but that’s irrelevant because I never saved the pictures. The only thing I did was text them to Quinn.”
“Maybe someone got them off your phone, directly?”
“No way. Like all my devices, my phone is password protected, and I keep it with me most of the time. Even if someone from housekeeping spent five unattended minutes with it, my phone locks when it’s not in use, and nobody has the password except me.”
“Hmm.”
“Somebody got to them from her end.”
“I don’t think so. We take measures. I’ve seen too many celebrities hacked to allow my clients to walk around with their asses hanging out, electronically speaking. She says she didn’t share them with anyone.”
“She saved them. I told her to, because I wanted her to look at them regularly. Somebody has access to her saved files. A PR person? Whoever updates her social media?”
“No. There’s a protocol for that. She would have had to transfer the photos to her publicist. She didn’t.”
“Somebody’s got access,” he insisted.
“Apparently,” Eddie said. “Look, don’t sweat this. It’s being handled. My guess is the leak won’t be difficult to track down. These web outlets aren’t like the Washington Post. They’re not especially protective of their sources. I’ll have a name within a couple days.”
“She thinks I did it.”
“What?”
He took another sip of water to wash the bitterness out of his mouth. “You heard me.”
“Christ, I hate it when my friends start sleeping together. My life is already complicated enough.” He expelled a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t bother. I think we covered the relevant facts before she left. I just want to know who’s responsible, and make certain she knows.”
“Suuuuure that’s all you want.” He imbued all kinds of skepticism into the reply. “But before you shove that stick any farther up your ass, keep in mind that she’s rattled. Private, unauthorized photos of her are splashed everywhere. Internet trolls are having a field day, and more seriously, the Dirty Games producers want to drop her. All she can see right now is that somebody betrayed her, and put something important to her at risk as a result. Maybe cut her some slack and give her a day or two to recover from the shit-storm? Quinn’s one of the most loyal people I know, but she isn’t used to someone having her back.”
