She looked at the pictures. They told a story—a story that wasn’t true, but people would believe what they wanted. And Emma wouldn’t want to believe this was Jax’s fault.
Neither would anyone else. Emma was America’s sweetheart, following in the footsteps of women like Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, and Reese Witherspoon. Mia was only an up-and-comer.
“They’re making me out to be a home wrecker, and nobody’s going to believe I’m innocent.” Her eyes dropped to the pictures. “This is going to ruin my whole career, Brooke. Everything I’ve worked for.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You know how these stories can be. As soon as something bigger comes along, people will forget. This might not amount to much.”
“I hope you’re right. I should call Nolan.”
She pulled up her agent’s contact and tapped on his number. He’d been expecting her call and did what he was best at, talked her off the cliff. Told her to stay off social media. She expressed her concerns about losing her next role inLesser Days. Fiona was the role of her dreams, the one she’d been waiting for, and the studio had a reputation for a high standard of integrity. The contract she’d signed had a morality clause.
Like Brooke, Nolan assured her this would pass. That addressing the gossip would only fan the flames. Better they hope for another scandal to come along and steal the headlines.
When she got off the phone she told Brooke what he’d said.
“You know what?” Brooke said after a brief silence. “You have a break in your schedule right now. You could skip town for a little while.”
“That makes it look like I’m guilty.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She slid Mia a look. “At least filming is done, and you won’t have to see Jax anymore.”
“We’ll still have all the publicity when the movie releases.”
“Awkward. Hopefully this’ll blow over by then.”
Brooke slowed as she came around the final corner before Mia’s rambling ranch. But as they rounded the bend they saw the cluster of vans parked on the street in front of the driveway. News vans.
“Get down,” Brooke said.
Mia dove for her ankles, her heart drumming against her thighs as Brooke gave the car gas. “Did they see me?”
“I don’t think so.”
Great. A media circus in her front yard. How long would they stay? How was she going to make herself go home? She’d been photographed many times, but not like this. Not as the center of a scandal.
“Is anyone following?” Mia said into her knees a full minute later.
“I don’t think so. They don’t know my car. That’s illegal anyway, isn’t it?”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t do it.” They weren’t allowed to shoot on private property with telephoto lenses either, but that hadn’t stopped them from publishing an unflattering picture of Gwyneth Paltrow emerging from her pool last week.
Brooke made a couple more turns, heading back down the hill. “I think it’s safe to come up now.”
Mia cautiously sat upright. They were in a quiet part of the neighborhood, at least a mile from the scene at her house. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? If she went home she’d be trapped there unless she wanted the hassle of the reporters every time she came and went.
“I’m going to have to go away and hide out for a while,” she said resolutely. She’d have to juggle some things on her calendar. Benefits, luncheons, appearances. Her standing appointment with her “little sister” Ana Maria from the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. Missing this one grated most of all.
“Maybe that’d be for the best,” Brooke said. “You could stay with my mom.”
Mia imagined the paparazzi surrounding Lettie’s house in the quiet little subdivision of LA. “I’m the last thing she needs. Until all this dies down.”
“What about...” Brooke gave her head a hard shake. “No, never mind. That’s a stupid idea.”
“What?”
“Nothing really. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Brooke.”
