There was an obvious shift in the air. Thanks to Frank’s confession, the world now knew about Dante’s indiscretion with Heidi.
I noted the change in Caleb’s voice. Obviously uncomfortable being in front of the cameras in the company of a woman and a man who slept with each other some years back, he rushed through the last question.
Heidi continued to smile.
“Pleasure to meet you, Cassy.” Caleb shook my hand. “Thank you for your time.”
“No, thank you for your time.” I hurried to shut off the microphone. “I’m excited to hear what Richie and Tommy came up with.”
“Caleb, my friend!” someone called from the crowd.
The obnoxious cell phone light swam closer and darted between me and Heidi while her date tried to get away from the impromptu photo session. The owner of the phone was a kid Ashton’s age—skinny, medium build, wearing a black hoodie. It was obvious he was trying to make a quick buck. I knew every face on the scene and his wasn’t familiar.
“Do you have credentials?” I asked, scanning his clothes.
The barrage of voices surrounding us grew louder. People began to push as Dante continued his approach. The light jumped over to him, then back to me.
The kid had some nerve.
Pulse pounding, I barreled my way in and reached for his phone. “You can’t film without credentials.”
“Fuck off, bitch!” He threw his other hand out. At first, I didn’t feel the impact of his fist against my chest. My breath caught. The microphone slid from my palm. My body tilted backward and landed against a warm mass. Someone propped me up from behind. People began to scream. It hit me then, both the rage and the ache that spread to my throat and stomach.
My head roared. I didn’t know what it was—the insult, the lack of privacy, Heidi’s presence, or this pitiful attempt at assault, but I wanted to hurt this kid back. The thought terrified me, especially since I wasn’t a violent person.
“Security!” a voice shouted as I scrambled to my feet.
Levi’s horror-ridden face came into focus. “Are you okay?” He grabbed my hand and helped me up.
Unable to speak, I nodded. The crowd grew tight. The air felt heavy. I blinked through the haze in my eyes and settled my gaze on Dante’s hat. He shoved everyone aside with his elbows and stepped closer. “Are you good, short stuff?”
In the background, people were screaming and running.
A lollipop stick danced in front of me. I palmed my cheeks and tried to calm down. I’d never been hit in my life. Especially not by a stranger and not while I was working.
“Do you need a doctor?” Dante dipped his head to look me in the eye.
A couple of cameras in the back flashed, but the rest stayed idle.
“I’m fine.” I sounded like I had a fork stuck in my throat. I sure as hell felt that way.
“Is she hurt?” someone asked.
“She needs to sit down.”
“Shit,” Levi spat out and spun around. His camera stood off to the side, unattended.
“It’s too fucking crowded,” Dante slurred, torturing the candy between his teeth. “Let’s take her upstairs.”
“I can’t leave my gear,” Levi told him.
“All right, just come find me when you’re packed, huh?”
The cameras made an attempt to follow us, but security guards pushed everyone back to the red carpet.
The private room Dante took me to was empty and looked a lot like an Irish pub. Two pool tables sat on the right. The bar was across the way. Bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors lined the shelves. A huge crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling offset the deep green upholstery that draped the couches and the chairs. The cool quiet swallowed the noise that ruled over the busy lanes and the rest of the downstairs.
Overwhelmed, I sat on the couch and tried to breathe through my hysteria. The kid must have hit me really hard, because I could feel it everywhere, a dull ache that ran from my head to my toes. Even my teeth hurt. The entire top row.
“You want a drink?” Dante asked, hovering.
I shook my head. Being alone with the man brought back nasty memories.
“Suit yourself.” He rounded the bar and grabbed the first bottle his eyes landed on.
My gaze followed his hands as he filled a glass with ice cubes using swift, elegant movements. The man made a great bartender. He looked the part too. The dark, brooding type with his sleeves rolled up and his jewelry-clad forearms bared. Lifting his eyes to meet mine, he cocked a brow. “You sure?”
There was no malice in his tone. No regret either. He seemed overly calm considering how much shit the tabloids had posted about him after everything that happened at the party. Frank wasn’t the only one whose reputation took a public beating. Although Dante’s reputation was born out of scandal.
In a sick way, I envied his no-fucks-given attitude and his ability to block out and move on. He was a natural-born asshole superstar who didn’t care about anything or anyone but his own gain, and I was merely a girl with my heart in shambles. Playing the role of a good Samaritan wasn’t like him. Contrary to what he’d once claimed, we weren’t friends. Just the opposite. We were foes. Yet here we were. Alone. Maybe it was time for us to dot the i’s and cross the t’s.
Still reeling, I took him up on his offer and rubbed my chest in an attempt to evict the pain. “Okay, I’ll have one, but not too strong.” My voice was a hoarse whisper.
Dante poured himself a glass and took a swallow. His features crinkled. “Don’t worry about that punk.” He grabbed another bottle. “They have security cameras here. They’ll catch the fucker.”
Drawing a deep, painful breath through my teeth, I watched him finish mixing his drink and move on to making another one. He spun around to face the shelf and scanned its contents,
