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As the days went by, that was what I did.

I followed the schedule Derrick gave me. I gave interviews. I attended the photoshoot. I threw myself into my rehearsal. I talked and laughed with fellow artists, always dodging questions about Camila. I never once allowed my focus to waver.

I’d been braced for Peyton to throw in her two-pence worth, but she merely sneered at me from afar every now and then. My own ex, however, didn’t keep his distance.

On first bumping into me, Heath gave me a quick hug and then said, “I’d ask if you’re okay after what happened in an elevator with a certain someone, but I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.”

I offered him a weak smile. “You guessed correctly.”

He glanced around. “Kaiser not with you?”

A few people had asked me that. I told him exactly what I’d told them: “Regardless of what the tabloids like to print, we’re only friends.”

Twisting his mouth, Heath gave a slow nod. “All right. I’m sensing you don’t want to talk about him either.”

“Your gut instincts serve you well.”

He chuckled. “Then let’s go eat and catch up.”

Every night, I called Judy to check on her. We’d sometimes talk for up to an hour. She never once mentioned he-who-must-not-be-named, and neither did I. Though shedidhave a nice, long rant about Camila, claiming she was going to invest in a voodoo doll.

The concert finally began on Friday afternoon. I had a blast. Killed every song during my forty-five minute slot. And I couldn’t have been more psyched or humbled to have headlined such an event.

On Saturday evening, I was sprawled on the bed in my suite watching a movie when the hotel phone began to ring. I muted the TV, leaned over to the nightstand, and then picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Speak to this guy behind the desk and tell him to let me up to your suite.”

Shock stiffened my muscles. That … no, that wasn’t Kaiser’s voice I’d just heard. He wasnothere in London. He wasn’t. “Uh, what?”

“H-hello?” came another male voice.

“Yes?” I hesitantly drawled.

“Good evening, Miss Rose. I’m sorry for disturbing you. Mr. Wolfe would like to see you, but he’s not on your pre-approved list of visitors.”

Oh God, he was here. He was actually here. Sitting up straight, I swallowed. “It’s okay. He can come up.”

“You’ve been approved, Mr. W—” The line went dead.

I set down the receiver and then put a hand to my churning stomach. I couldn’t decide if it was a good sign or a bad sign that he’d come. I couldn’t properly think at all. My brain was scrambling to fully absorb the situation.

I edged off the bed and, not willing to answer the door in only my underwear, slipped on a robe. Oh sure, he’d seenme in less, but that was under different circumstances. And I’d feel too vulnerable and exposed talking to him while partially uncovered.

It wasn’t long before the bell rang. “Moment of truth,” I muttered as I made my way through the suite. I pulled open the front door and … Dammit, he looked good. Real good.Andutterly furious.

My gut clenching, I licked my lips. “Kaiser—”

He barged past me, stalking right into the suite. “I am so fucking pissed right now.”

I closed the door, exhaling heavily. “I see that.” I folded my arms, feeling defensive. “You came all this way to yell at me?”

“Yeah, I did.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the nearby chair. “And I expect an apology.”

I bristled. “I’m not at fault—”

“Of course you’re at fault. Don’t act like you’re a victim here. This is all on you.”

I gaped. “You can’t be serious.”

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