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“Where are you going to go?”
“What? Because it’s not safe out there? The paparazzi will be waiting at my apartment? Or follow me from here?”
We both started when Jeff cleared his throat on the other side of the room. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, but Rome we gotta get going if you don’t want to be late to set.”
Rome sighed and looked torn—like he wanted to follow both me and Jeff but didn’t know who to go to. Finally he turned and faced me. “If you’re going to go, at least take Jeff with you or let me call security.”
“No. I need to be alone, and I can’t do that with your bestie riding shotgun and singing your praises.” I shook my head and backed away from both of them. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
I headed for my room—or Rome’s room—since I’d moved into his bedroom a while ago. My whole body shook with pent up emotion. But I couldn’t let it out here because I knew once I started crying, I wouldn’t stop.
The house was silent when I came out ten minutes later with my packed suitcase. Not even Pongo came out to say goodbye.
And that told me everything I needed to know about the state of our relationship.
We were through.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rome
Work was supposed to be my safe haven. The one place in the world I felt like I belonged. And it had.
Until today.
Today Sophia left me and I couldn’t stop her. I couldn’t even be there to make sure she got out okay. Because of work. I couldn’t even chase after her. Because of work. I couldn’t make this shitstorm between us better. Because I had to be at work. I’d already used up every ounce of pull I had in order to come back from New Zealand early. And burned a few bridges in the process—the director and one of the producers still were apparently holding grudges given the way they talked to me. Over a hundred people’s jobs depended on me showing up. I’d always prided myself on showing up on time and not being one of those diva actors who had to be coddled or who no one wanted to work with because they were labeled difficult.
I didn’t have a relationship anymore—the last thing I needed now was to lose my job or reputation. And no, the irony wasn’t lost on me.
And I couldn’t even lose myself in my work because I had to pretend to be happy and in love with someone who wasn’t Sophia. I couldn’t even picture her gorgeous happy face when I looked at my costar. All I could see were the tears and disappointment in Sophia’s eyes right before she left.
The next two days on set were going to be hell. I couldn’t wait until we wrapped this one.
The current meeting going on in my trailer wasn’t helping my mood either.
“I think we need to release a statement of some kind.” My agent, Daniel, muttered as he tapped away at his ever-present cell phone.
“A statement is the worst thing we could do right now,” Hope retorted with a raised eyebrow. “Sophia left, so we’ve lost the little bit of leverage we had over the story. The best play we can make right now is to lie low and wait for this to blow over. Someone else is bound to steal the headlines in the next day or two. A reality show star will get a DUI or some actor will do a stupid quickie marriage in Vegas. Oh! Isn’t that prince in Monaco due to get married soon to that hair dresser from Vegas? Luc something? He’ll be front page in a few days and we can stop worrying.”
Jeff snorted and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Who gives a shit about media? I’m talking about studios and networks—the important people who pay his salary.” Daniel jabbed a finger at the table. “If we don’t get in front of this story, Rome will be labeled a joke, and no one will want to touch him. Let alone hire him to star in a fucking rom-com.”
They continued to bicker as I buried my face in my hands. Hearing the two of them argue about my fucked-up situation was suffocating. I couldn’t change anything I’d done. And honestly at this point, I couldn’t see what I could do to the mess I’d made of my life. Was this how Nix felt all the time? Like a complete and total fuckup? No wonder he used.
I pushed away from the table and stood up. Pacing back and forth in the tiny kitchenette did nothing to help my anxiety. “Has anyone threatened to pull contracts? Existing contracts or ones we’re negotiating?”
“No.” Daniel shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Then I don’t give a shit.” I gestured wildly. “I’m with Hope. Let the media believe whatever they want. This will all blow over. The studios will be fine once they see I’m still bankable. Now, unless there’s something else, we’re done.”
“I think you’re making a mistake,” Daniel muttered as he grabbed his two cell phones off the table.
“It’s my mistake to make,” I retorted as I headed for the bedroom.
“Trust me,” Hope said as she glided down the stairs and outside, her voice muted with distance. “There’s a reason I’m the best publicist in the biz.”
Daniel’s response was cut off by the slamming of my trailer door.
