But then maybe Valentina wouldn’t be getting the transfer she so desperately needed.
He met Heather’s gaze. “No, I . . .” The words faded. There was no good way to explain. “Just tell me, are you the one who sent it?”
Without hesitation she said, “What if I did? Would that be so terrible?”
Again, her answer caught him off guard. He’d expected her to deflect, or possibly even lie. His mind reeled back to the first time they’d met. She’d acted aggressively flirty despite his insistence that he’d been looking for Layla. At the time, he hadn’t paid it much notice. In retrospect, maybe he should have. Whether or not it was terrible was more complex than she wanted to pretend.
“Why would you do that? Do you have any idea how hurtful that was?”
“More hurtful than living a lie?” Heather’s features were hard, her voice indignant. “I thought you deserved to know the truth. I thought you deserved better than that. And yeah, I admit, I liked you. I still do.”
Mateo sighed and closed his eyes, wishing he could block out the world and everything in it. When he opened them again, Heather was still standing before him, looking so impossibly beautiful, he felt a twinge of regret for what would come next. “Thanks for your help with Valentina. I’m sorry if I seemed ungrateful. I have a lot on my mind, and you took me by surprise.”
She gave a quick nod. “You don’t have to explain.”
Without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to his. Her kiss was warm. Lush. Hinting at the promise of all she had to offer.
Mateo leaned into the moment. Willfully ignoring the warning bells sounding in his head, he clasped her tightly against him. What could it hurt to just . . .
Before he could finish the thought, he withdrew.
“It’s okay.” Her voice was choked and tight as she fought to blink away the flash of pain in her gaze. “Turns out, you were right to be suspicious. Ira’s willingness to help wasn’t entirely altruistic.”
Mateo stilled. He did not like where this was going.
“Trena’s devoting an entire episode to Ira’s ‘meteoric rise.’” She hooked air quotes around the phrase and rolled her eyes. “His words, not mine. Anyway, I convinced him I could get you to take part if he made a few calls on Valentina’s behalf.”
Mateo was seething but did his best not to show it.
“I’ll explain to Ira. I’ll—” She started to reach for his arm, but reading the look on his face, she dropped her hand to her side. “Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll still get the transfer. Ira’s a shark, but he’s not Satan. He really does have a heart.”
“You sure about that?” Of all the things he wanted to say, that didn’t come anywhere near the top of the list. But it was the only thing he wouldn’t live to regret.
“I’ll fix it. Promise.”
“When are they filming?” he asked.
“At RED, tomorrow night.” She scrunched her brow as though it pained her. “But seriously, you don’t have to come. I told you I’d fix it and I will. Say what you want about me, but I always keep my word.”
Mateo was too angry to respond. If he didn’t show, he ran the risk of Ira seeking revenge by blocking Valentina’s transfer. If he did go, he’d get sucked further into the sort of Hollywood hype he abhorred. He had no choice but to go through with it, and it left him angry in a way he’d never felt before. There went another piece of his soul. Who said Ira wasn’t Satan?
“I know I crossed some boundaries, and I probably came on a little too strong and too fast. I just hope we can stay friends?”
Mateo couldn’t even imagine such a thing. But she was waiting for his reassurance, so the least he could do was nod in agreement. Surely she’d realize the promise was empty.
“I know this’ll probably sound silly,” she said. “But I have a thing about being the first to walk away. So—” She was halfway to the parking structure when she said, “For what it’s worth, I really did like you. For the short time we were together, I could forget everything and just feel happy for a change.”
Mateo watched her go, wondering what she’d meant. It was a strange thing to say for a girl as famous and successful as her.
Once she was gone, he typed a message to Layla.
Just solved the mystery of the anonymous text → Heather Rollins.
His index finger hovered above the send arrow, but he hit delete instead.
Summer was nearly over. A new season was about to begin. And still there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about Layla a minimum of three times. But now that he’d ended things with Heather, it was clearly time to move forward, not back. The sooner he stopped finding excuses to be in touch with Layla, the sooner he could forge a new life without her.
One by one, he watched the words vanish. Then he slipped his phone into his pocket and headed back to his family.
TWENTY-NINEGIRLS ON FILM
Tommy stood before the side door of the Vesper, jiggling the key in his palm as he continued to volley the pros, cons, and possible risks back and forth in his head.
Ira had given him the code, which meant Tommy was free to come and go as he pleased. In fact, since Tommy fully intended to check out the progress being made on the VIP room, he figured he was acting well within the confines of his job description. There was nothing for Ira to get upset about.
And yet, none of that would matter if Ira
