“Holy shit,” Tina said.
The minute I saw the grainy black footage of Dockweiler Beach, all the blood rushed from my face. It didn’t even occur to me that anyone might follow us in the limo. I was nobody. Chance was a random stranger. There didn’t seem any point in wasting a photographer’s time on us when there were A-list stars back at the party.
But somebody had.
“Please tell me they aren’t going to get you—” Tina cut off when the shaky video showed me running naked from the rock shelter, censor bars covering strategic parts.
“Oh, they did,” she said with a sigh. “Did you have to go skinny-dipping on a public beach?”
I couldn’t answer, petrified that there would be something of us actually getting down to business. My own live sex tape. God, God, God.
Chance came running after me, just a shadow in the moonlight. I was pale and more reflective, apparently. I wasn’t sure I could watch any more of it.
The announcer came back on, flashing a lurid grin. “The girlfriend of director Frankie Sharp had a little fling with a singer after the premiere party for the new blockbuster film Brontosaurus Rampage.”
They displayed an image of me and Frankie from a month or so back. Frankie gazed at me adoringly. I felt a pang for how bad this looked for him.
“Her mystery crooner didn’t stop there, though. He was spotted with the Copper Field actress Vanessa Price as well as Avery Klaus, the star of The Neighbor Connection.”
Images flashed onscreen to support his words, Avery in her scanty dress, then Vanessa sidling up to Chance after the party.
The show went back to the anchor with an image of me running naked, my dreadlocks flying, displayed on a side screen. This one was from the back, and they didn’t bother to black out my butt.
“But he chose this little hottie to romp with on the beach,” the guy said.
The shot widened to show a woman anchor next to him. “I think they have a drink named for that,” she said.
“No telling where the sand got lodged,” the man responded with a laugh.
I kept my fists clenched tight, but the show moved on to another segment. I let out a long gust of air as I realized there wouldn’t be any sex footage. At least not on the show. Someone could still have it. The online sites could pop up with something any minute. Getting rid of it would be like trying to catch a thousand cockroaches.
“Well, that was something,” Tina said.
I curled up in a tight ball on my yellow-chick papasan chair.
“You okay?” Corabelle asked.
“Somebody do some online searches,” I said. “If that photographer was there with equipment, he could have anything.”
“I’ll do the honors,” Tina said, heading for my table and the laptop. “You think they have your name? It wasn’t on the show.”
“They have my everything,” I said.
Corabelle looked at the door. “Will they come here?”
“I can’t imagine. I’m just not worth it. They might stalk Frankie, though.”
“What about the boy?” Tina asked from the dining area. “You think they’ll figure out his name?”
“Probably,” I said. But after seeing that segment, I wasn’t sure I cared. He probably woke up with Vanessa. Or Avery.
Or both.
Corabelle scooted down the sofa closer to my chair. “You need us to do anything?”
I covered my eyes with my hands. “Not sure what there is to do. I guess I’ll hole up for a while.”
“You think it will blow over by Monday?” Corabelle asked. “Will you go to class?”
I had no idea. I leaned my head back against the fur and closed my eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t think that they would follow us.”
“You were on a public beach,” Tina said. “Anything could have happened. Cops. Kids with cell phones.”
I knew she was right. But we had checked. There hadn’t appeared to be anyone around.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Corabelle said. “It was a perfect storm. You trying to get some publicity, the actresses being there.”
“He must have been one hot potato to get you naked on a chilly beach,” Tina said.
I didn’t answer. He had been. I’d been oblivious to everything. Perfect storm was right. The dry spell. The song. The way he’d sung it just for me.
When a man loves a woman.
I wanted to throw something. When a man plugs a woman was more like it. Chance had moved on in a heartbeat. I didn’t know why he’d even bothered to spend a moment with me when he had these other starlets eating out of his hand.
Anger felt good. It was a hell of a lot better than moping. I hoped Chance realized that I knew. Hell, he probably didn’t care. He was just another entertainer trying to crawl his way to the top. Maybe he even knew I had been with Frankie. Or saw me talking to the other big shots and thought I was an easy in.