Still, I bite my tongue, hoping for a warning. Or a second chance.
Instead, Jean-Louis—the owner of the Grandeur Playhouse, some hotshot from the East Coast with a long family history in the industry—sits back in his chair and waits for an apology.
If I was a man, he’d have congratulated me on working a loophole in the system. In doing whatever I needed to to make my dreams a reality.
But since I’m a woman, he undoes his belt buckle and cocks an eyebrow.
“This will ruin your career if it gets out,” he says, scrubbing a bony hand over his chin. “You’re a nobody, and I can make it stay that way. Or…”
He trails off, his jaw shifting as his impatience seems to mount.
I get up from my chair and walk out.
Less than twenty-four hours later, my spot in the production was given to the understudy and my face smeared on every third-rate gossip rag in the county. Nothing big enough really to leave LA since Iwasa nobody, but still.
The damage was done. I spent weeks talking to my agent—who wound up dropping me—and trying to get even basic stage work, but no one wanted me. Not even forfree.
So I left.
And now it seems my past is catching up.
The man clears his throat, turning back to me, and extends his free hand. It’s long and skeletal, and I blink at it without taking the offering.
“This is Jean-LouisDupont,” Bauer tells me in a low voice. “Chairman of the Avernia trustee board, founding family member, and esteemed town councilman. When he asks for a handshake, you do it, little girl.”
The ice in my veins runs cold.
Dupont?
My gaze shifts to the younger man slightly behind him, who’s been staring at me with a blank expression since I stumbled through the gate. They’re almost clones, save for the shape of his nose, lips, and ears beneath the mop of black hair.
All features that resemble the handsome professor I’ve been lusting after for weeks.
No, no, no. This isn’t possible.
The universe isn’t this cruel, right?
Jean-Louis cannot be Sutton’sfather.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I lift my hands for them to see, forcing myself to remain calm on the outside even though my world feels like it’s shattering. My palms are scraped from when I ran into Sutton. “Sorry, but I had a nasty fall in the forest. I’d like to avoid making the cuts worse.”
“That explains the dried blood,” Jean-Louis states, leaning in as if to inspect my face. “Thought maybe you’d been attacked by some vigilante mob. They’re rumored to hang out there, you know.”
“Is that something you’d expect a little girl like me to walk away from?” I stare right back. “I hear those mobs can get violent pretty quickly.”
His blue eyes narrow. Behind him, the younger guy slinks away a step, as if trying to disappear into the background.
What if Jean-Louis tells Sutton about me?
The only thing worse than those LA rumors being true is me lying about them, even if they’re blown out of proportion. I didn’t sleep witheveryone: Aaron and his girlfriend were a one-time thing, and I paid the price for it.
But most people won’t care about reality. They’ll pick which part of the truth they want to be disgusted by and go from there.
A man wouldn’t have to care. His value would increase to the general public, probably. God forbid a woman takes a page out of his playbook.
“Yes, well, it is true that a group of maybe-vigilantes have been causing issues for some time on campus,” Dean Bauer chimes in. “That’s why Jean-Louis likes to come check on things, make sure they haven’t overrun us. He hasn’t been able to get out here for a while, you see, due to illness and travel, but?—”
“Justin,” Jean-Louis says sharply. “We needn’t fill the girl in on such trivial matters.”
