“You’re not going,” he interrupts me, crossing his arms.
I look up at him, aghast. “What?”
He shrugs, like it’s a minor demand. “The premiere tonight. You’re not going.” He nods to the dress. “Get out of that. I’ll have Kenta pick up some takeaway.”
My mouth falls open. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t not go to the premiere ofmy own movie.”
“It’s too public. Anyone could find out the location and the time.”
“So? That’s why I have you, isn’t it? Matt, the whole reason we came to America was for this one event!”
“I’m in charge of your security, and I’ve changed my mind. We’re not taking you.”
I throw up my hands. “Fine. I’ll find someone else to do it. I’m not sure why you let mehireyou if you don’t actually want todo your job,but there are plenty of bodyguards in LA.” I reach across the dressing table to unplug my phone.
His hand flies out, grasping my wrist. “No. You. Won’t. You’re not going. Please, just trust me on this.”
I shake him off. “This isn’t my choice! I’ve signed contracts, the studio needs me to be there—”
“So break the contracts!” He shouts, heat rising in his cheeks. “You don’t need the money! You’re richer than God, for fuck’s sake!”
“That’s not what this is about! If I piss off the studio, they’re not going to want to work with me anymore. I have a bad enough reputation without all of Hollywood’s directors deciding I’m too difficult to work with.” I grab a bottle of perfume and dab some on my wrists. “I really don’t see the issue. There’s going to be security at the premiere. It’s no more dangerous than any other event I’ve been to. And really, all X has done so far is leave messages and send me photos of his junk.” I strap on my other heel and stand, heading for the doorway. “I’m going, whether you want to come with me or not.” My hand closes on the doorknob.
“You’re being unbelievably selfish.” Matt says quietly behind me.
I sputter, spinning on him. “Excuse me?”
“This isn’t just about you. Kenta and Glen will be at that carpet. You want to put them in danger? Those are my men, I’m not putting them at risk because you want to go to a bloody party!”
My mouth falls open. “Why are you trying toguilt trip me?You all signed up for this! And we said from the beginning: your job is not to stop me from doing my work, it’s toprotectme while I do it.”
“Your work doesn’t matter!” He snaps, his face white with anger. “None of this fucking matters!”
I take a step back. I feel like he’s smacked me in the chest. “Right,” I say slowly. “Of course it doesn’t. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You don’t think my work has any value.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters. “Of course it has value.But not as much value as yourlife.A few hours of you prancing around in front of a camera is not worth more than yoursafety.No contract is worth more than that, princess.”
Rage rises up in me. “Look, I might not be an SAS soldier. I might not be saving lives. But I amgoodat my job. I take pride in my work, and I do it properly. If nothing else, my movies give people a couple hours’ reprieve from this shitty planet. That meanssomething.”
He shakes his head slowly. “In the grand scheme of things, Briar, it means absolutely nothing at all.”
I swallow. There are tears shimmering in my eyes. “None of the shit that I told you last night matters, does it?” I ask, my voice breaking. “I thought you understood me. But you don’t. You don’t want to. You’ll always think that I’m a spoiled little child star, who’s had everything in her life handed to her. You don’t care how much it hurt me, growing up like this. You don’t care.”
For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything. His face is stony. His chest rises and falls with fast, shallow breaths.
“Please. Just take off the outfit,” he mutters, then turns on his heel and leaves.
I press a hand to my chest. Suddenly, my tight dress feels constricting, not sexy. The hours I’ve spent on the makeup, and the hair, and the nails, all seem frivolous and vain. Because that’s how he sees me.
Stupid. I’ve been so, so stupid.
I storm into the bathroom, locking the door behind me and sinking onto the closed toilet seat. The necklace burns against my throat. I reach back and unclasp it, letting it fall to the ground. It doesn’t mean anything.
I’ve spent my whole life feeling completely alone. And for a second, I thought things had finally changed. I thought I’d found three men who saw past the fame, and the money, and my shitty reputation, and saw the real me. I thought theylikedthe real me. But of course not. That will never happen.
You make a deal with the devil when you become famous. You sign away your right to a normal life. To normal friendships and relationships. To walking down the street without being harassed. And that’s fair enough, if you want money and notoriety that badly; but it wasn’t evenmewho signed my life away. I think of my mother, studiously ignoring me as she sunbathes on the yacht I bought her, and sadness overwhelms me.I’m still completely alone.
There’s a tap at the bathroom door.
