“No,” Rosa said, praying the woman couldn’t tell just how hard her heart was pounding. “I’m just taking a little vacation.”
“Sorry the weather isn’t better for you.” The woman cocked her head. “I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere, though. I wouldn’t normally forget a pretty young woman like you.”
Blood was rushing hard and fast into Rosa’s head as she said, “You’re very sweet, but I hear that a lot. I must have one of those familiar faces.”
Fortunately, the woman simply smiled and said, “People always used to tell me that I looked like Jackie O.”
Rosa tried not to grab her change too fast. Looking like she was panicking would only make the woman more suspicious. “I can see why. You have the same bone structure.”
“We do, don’t we?” The woman looked extremely pleased. “I’m Mona Agnew, and I hope I see you again soon.”
Rosa picked up the bag with her phone and fruit and headed for the door before saying, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mona.”
Her heart was racing as she drove back to the motel and jogged up the stairs to her room on the second floor. The good news was that Mona hadn’t actually recognized her. But how long would it be before the nice woman restocked the magazines and realized that the face staring back at her didn’t simply resemble the woman who’d come by her store twice—but was one and the same?
Rosa had spent years with camera lenses on her every time she stepped out of a building, but she’d never felt this paranoid. Then again, she’d never actually wanted to hide before. Never truly needed a few days out of the public eye to completely reassess everything.
Drake’s cabin had been so much warmer and cozier than Rosa’s motel room with its faded bedspread, old carpet, and outdated wallpaper. But this too-quiet room was far safer than his difficult questions—and the heat between them. She’d turn on the cell phone, send a quick email to her mother, then shut it down so that she could sit in her safe, quiet room and finally figure out her next step.
But as soon as she stepped inside, Rosa realized safety was nothing but an illusion. The bed was made and the towel she’d placed over the TV screen had been folded neatly on the bathroom counter, so Housekeeping must have been in while she was gone. Unfortunately, the person who’d tidied up her room must have turned on the TV and forgotten to shut it off when he or she left.
And right now Rosa was looking straight at her own face—and barely clad body—on the screen.
“As the nude photo scandal over reality TV’s It Girl continues,” the entertainment show host said, “we’ve brought in two Hollywood experts to weigh in on where we should draw the line between private and public life. Selma, I know you’re not a huge fan of Rosalind and her family, but does she have your sympathy now?”
Selma Laskey was one of the nastiest gossip journalists in Los Angeles, and even though it was like standing in front of an oncoming train, Rosa’s eyes remained glued to the screen as the too-thin woman said, “Are you kidding? I just can’t believe she hasn’t posed for nude pictures before this.”
“But she didn’t pose for these,” the host said. “Or do you believe she orchestrated this situation in some way for her own gain?”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” John Canyon put in before Selma could respond. He was a well-known Hollywood lawyer, but not someone Rosa had ever personally dealt with. “Just because she’s a public figure doesn’t mean these pictures aren’t a massive violation of her rights. While she wasn’t hacked, she was attacked online, so calling this a cyber-attack is certainly in the ballpark, and I hope her lawyers are hitting the perpetrator with everything they’ve got.”
“There’s nothing an exhibitionist wants more than to have every eye on her,” Selma tossed back with a flip of her hair, dismissing the idea of a cyber-attack with a roll of her eyes. “I guarantee the fact that the entire world is talking about her makes everything better.”
Finally coming unfrozen, Rosa leapt at the TV to turn it off.
She’d known people could be cruel, but what had she ever done to Selma to make her think she deserved something like this? No woman did, not even one who had opened so much of her life to cameras. A reckless mix of anger and frustration drove her to yank the prepaid cell phone from its package so that she could call the studio and make them put her on the air to defend herself.