Hollywood Scandal

“I think you’re mixing up being embarrassed by the photographs going public and being mad at Matt. Have you forgotten that he didn’t release the photos? That was all Bobby. Matt tried to stop him.”

Was I being too hard on Matt? Was I blaming him for things that were Bobby’s fault?

“I’m also going to say that you need to get your ass out of bed before it gets even flabbier than it already is.”

Reluctantly, I laughed. “You can’t tell me I’m getting fat while I’m going through the breakup blues.”

“I totally can.” She reached under my bed where I normally kept my workout gear. “Where are your sneakers? We need to get you running along the beach, not away from gorgeous, kind movie stars who are crazy for you.”

Before I could respond, she blurted out, “What are you doing with this trash?” She pulled out the tabloids I’d bought earlier that day.

She threw them on the bed and tore one open. “Oh God. He hated doing this.”

“How would you know?”

She didn’t say anything, just kept turning the pages, scanning the interview. Then she moved on to the next magazine.

Suddenly she snapped them all shut and gathered them up, hugging them to her chest then shifting to face me, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. She sighed and said, “I have a confession to make.”

The room swayed and I turned my whole body toward her. What could she possibly have to confess? We told each other everything.

“I don’t want you to freak out. Promise me?”

I crossed my fingers in front of her, making sure she knew that whatever I promised was bullshit. “Sure, I won’t get mad. Just tell me.”

“Matt called me.”

I jerked back as if she’d hit me. “What for?”

“He wanted my opinion on a few things.”

“What things?”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times as if she was struggling to find the right words. “I can’t keep this from you.”

More secrets? I sat down, staring up at her. What had Matt done now?

“He explained that he and his publicist were working on a deal with some of the gossip sites and tabloids to stop them from running the pictures of you.” She took a seat opposite me.

“What do you mean, a deal?”

“A trade. Inane interviews in exchange for the rights to the photo.” She tipped the tabloids onto the bed.

I spread the magazines out, his beautiful smile beaming up at me. I had no idea that he’d been working to protect me like this.

“I think he contacted Bobby again. Paid him off. Made sure any other photos were destroyed.”

I covered my face, relief washing through my body. He’d gone further than I’d ever thought possible.

“I think he felt really guilty. But you wouldn’t answer his calls, so he came to me for permission to fix this. He didn’t want you to think this was about him or his career, or that he was doing it behind your back. He just wanted to protect you. I told him to do whatever it took. And if you hate me for not telling you, then . . .” She shook her head. “I’m going to toss you out of the window.”

“Of course I don’t hate you,” I replied. She’d just been trying to do the right thing and keep me from worrying. A lot like Matt had.

Ruby took my hairbrush from me and finished brushing out my hair. “Whatever happens, it’s a really nice thing that he did. And even before, I know he should have told you that Bobby was blackmailing him, but he was trying to save you pain.”

Matt was sheltering me from the storm, proving he was worth getting rained on for.

“And there’s another thing.” She dropped the hairbrush and began to scan through the articles. “Take a look at this.”

Ruby handed me the tabloid. I squinted at the paragraph she pointed at, trying to skim what was written. “He turned down Anthony Scott,” I said, almost to myself. “Shit, you don’t think he did it to punish himself, do you?” I asked but continued to read. No, the article made his motivations clear. He’d met someone who’d helped him find himself. Focus on what mattered.

Me. He was talking about me.

My heart swooped.

“I think he’s a really good guy, Lana.” Ruby rested her head on my shoulder.

“I’m in love with him.” I tilted my head, resting it on hers.

“Of course you are. He just made a mistake. You need to decide whether he deserves another chance. In case you were wondering what I think? He absolutely does.”

“I’m going to top up our wine,” I said, then stood and headed into the kitchen. I gazed out onto the deck as I unscrewed the bottle. That was where I’d first kissed Matt Easton. Where we’d watched the thunderstorms together. My insides ached. I missed him. I could find a thousand pictures of him on the internet and as handsome as he was in each one of them, none of them showed how beautiful he was on the inside. Or what it felt like to be loved by him.

He’d listened to me. Heard me. Tried his best to honor my wishes.

He deserved a second chance, didn’t he?

And so did I.





Twenty-Seven





Lana


I slipped my sunglasses over my eyes just before exiting baggage claim. The flight from Portland to LAX had been uneventful, but it had felt as if it lasted weeks. Once I’d decided to give Matt a second chance, every second was too long away from him.

There were no photographers as I turned right toward the taxi stand. Hopefully Ruby was right. I was yesterday’s news. I wasn’t the movie star, after all.

I wanted to be able to talk to Matt face-to-face. I didn’t want to tell him the things I had to say over the phone. He’d accused me of running away from him. And I wanted to show him that I was back if he’d have me.

I slid into the back of the cab and tried to relax, to tell myself I was doing the right thing. I really didn’t know how Matt would react when I showed up. Thanks to social media, I knew where I’d find him this afternoon, and I’d managed to get a ticket to the same charity lunch. It had cost me a month’s profit from the shop, but he was worth it.

It seemed fitting that it was a big public event. Perfect to prove to him that not only was I not running anymore, but also I’d forgiven him about Bobby and accepted the attention from the press was a part of him that couldn’t be changed. I wanted him to understand all that mattered to me was that we were together.

Sooner than I expected, we pulled up to the Beverly Hills Hotel. My stomach twisted with anxiety. I’d thought this would be the perfect setting for a reunion. But now that I was here, I realized I hadn’t considered what it would do to me if I had to bear a very public rejection.

A red carpet had been laid outside and photographers were snapping away, shouting questions and requests as guests made their way toward the entrance.

The cab came to a standstill a little way down from the start of the step and repeat and I got out, craning my neck to try to find Matt.

I turned to the driver and gave him a huge tip in return for him delivering my overnight bag to reception.