His lips crimp together hard. “I’m not saying a word. You can’t make me.”
“Fine.”
I tip forward and let bad cop off the leash. I slam both fists onto the table. The sound cracks sharp in the small room.
“I have your mug shot,” I tell him calmly. “Blinking weird. No guyliner. You talk, or it hits Page Six.”
He breaks, gasping for words. “Mother said it was the perfect plan.”
“Excuse me. Mother?”
He starts talking, and somewhere in my chest, something cold clicks into place. I realize this confession is going to detonate Hollywood.
It’s also going to end my career.
He shrugs. Actually shrugs. Like he’s confessing to borrowing a sweater. “Ms. Almyra Crowne is my mother.”
What. The. Fuck.
My manager is his mother?
No wonder she kept shoving me toward him. She wasn’t elevating me.
She was elevating this jerk.
“She said it was the perfect plan,” he continues, sounding almost proud. “When you didn’t respond to my romantic gestures?—”
“I believe you mean the creepy-as-fuck love notes,” I cut in.
His jaw tightens. “You gave me no choice, Ava. I needed help, so I went to her. She said it was all taken care of. She’d make sure you’d be at a church.” He points to me. “You’d be there.” He points to himself. “I’d be there, and…”
Oh. My. God.
I swallow hard. “We were supposed to get married?”
He waggles his brows. “Yes.”
I stare at him, stunned. “Fake it till you make it? That was your plan?”
He sits up, beaming. “And then you’d have to love me.”
“Right,” I say flatly. “Because that’s how love works.”
“But then you ruined it. Like you always do. You showed up early.”
It hits me all at once. A full-body shockwave.
“So,” I say, clapping my hands once. “I did get the address right.”
I flick my gaze to the glass. Harrison, are you hearing this?
I turn back to Pierce. “It was almost the perfect plan. The priest. The paps.” I do a full-body shiver, imagining the headlines.
“Duh.”
My hands start to shake. Not from fear. Oh, no. More like barely contained rage.
He and Mommy Dearest would’ve had me under their thumb. Forever. And knowing the two of them, my life would’ve been a living hell. Movie contracts. Appearances. An unholy number of scenes and poses where I’d have to kiss him.
