Zac’s head reared back, and his forehead was furrowed. “You settled with him? For how much?”
I bit my lip. “I’ve never told anyone before the right amount.” And then I told him.
And Zac blinked slowly. “US Dollars?”
“Unfortunately.”
Even in the poor lighting, I could tell his face went pale. “Where the hell did you come up with that kind of money?”
I poked him. “My piggy bank, where else?” I grinned at him, pleased with myself for doing well enough that even he couldn’t believe it. It made me feel extra proud of myself. Just for a moment, before I remembered how much of an idiot I had been. “He knew everything. How much money I was making, how much I had in savings. Everything. So he went after me for all of it.” Anger stirred my chest, and I forced a tight, uncomfortable smile on my face. “That’s why I didn’t quit my job at the gym. We just settled six months ago. I’m barely getting my feet back under me. I stopped accepting sponsors while all of that was going on because I was genuinely worried that the more money I made, the more I’d have to give him, and I didn’t want him to end up with more of my hard-earned work. But he still got so much of it. I feel like an idiot.”
His mouth parted, and his gaze was intense on mine. “That’s why you never said nothin’?”
“Yeah. How stupid was I, Zac? I considered marrying that asshole. I didn’t see that he was capable of something like that. I wasted so much time and energy. And he got almost all of my money. Honestly, between us, it really fucked me up for a while. I still have trust issues. It took me almost a year after we split up to finally break down and hire someone to help me film because I didn’t want to let anyone in.”
“I can’t believe you paid him.”
“His family had money, and I know he would have fought me forever. I had to tell myself that it wasn’t worth it to me, to stunt my business for so long. And at least I’ll never have to see or hear from him again. That was what I added to our agreement when I paid him off. That he better never contact me again. I regret all of it, but I learned a valuable lesson.”
“What’s that?” he asked in a flat voice with his forehead still wrinkled.
“Never date anybody Boogie hates.” I forced a smile and tried to shake off what we were just talking about. “Anyway, I’m thinking about sneaking out pretty soon. I’m tired.”
He was watching me pretty damn carefully as he replied, “I’m feelin’ a little tired too, darlin’. I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna get a car back to the hotel. You wanna ride back with me?”
My feet hurt, and inside, I could see Connie still dancing her ass off. She was going to go for hours. I knew it. “You know what? Yeah. I’ll make sure no one kidnaps you, and I could get a little work done so I don’t feel guilty for taking the whole day off.”
He smiled, but he was always freaking smiling. “You’re so thoughtful.”
“I know. Lucky you, right?”
That made him smile even more and got me a boop me on the nose.
Back inside, we told everyone bye, with Connie shouting, “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? After party at Tío Chato’s house!” There was only one answer to that: hell no. It got me a pinch to the ass that I knew was going to leave a bruise before Zac and I busted out of there, right on time for the car he’d requested to pull into the driveway since we’d ridden in Connie’s SUV.
The Ford pulled to a stop along the curb, and Zac waved at the driver before snaking around me to open the back door, ticking his head to the side. I slipped in, and he followed right after. I said “Hi” a second before he chimed in with “Evenin’. How’s it goin’?”
The driver, a man in his fifties, unbuckled his seat belt and turned all the way around in his freaking seat. The fingers of his right hand went straight to the headrest, his fingers clinging to the leather. His mouth gaped.
Zac was already smiling at him like it was second nature.
The driver startled. “Don’t mind my French, but fuck me….”
I snorted and pulled the seat belt across my shoulder, clipping it in.
Zac held his hand out, and the driver didn’t hesitate to shake it, before gesturing to me. “Mohamed, Bianca, my boss. Bianca, Mohamed.”
I shot Zac a look and took the man’s hand the second it was free, even though I’m pretty sure he only left it out from the shock.
“Hi,” I told him, giving it a quick shake that he didn’t register because he was so busy gaping at Zac.
He and Mohamed, a very nice man with three children—two daughters and a twenty-year-old son that Zac signed an autograph for—talked pretty much the entire ride to the hotel.
“Can we get a picture?” Mohamed asked as he stopped in front of the hotel.
“Yeah, sure,” Zac agreed as the older man took his phone off its holder and turned it to selfie mode. Zac unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward. I tried to move to the side to give him room to sneak up and forward, but a big, familiar hand settled on the middle of my back.
He smiled at me as he guided me forward too until we were right beside Mohamed’s headrest. He made sure my chin was right there and Zac’s cheek was right there too by
