Skye’s phone buzzed, and she held up her forefinger, silently asking Paige to give her a minute. Stepping off to the side, Skye answered her call.
A few minutes later, the door opened. A wave of relief washed over Paige—until Tanya breezed through the doorway. Her manager approached her. “Hey, Paige. Sorry I’m late.”
Paige gave her a tight smile. She loved Tanya, she loved how invested the top manager was in her career, but Tanya was always late. And Paigehatedto be late.
“There’s an accident on the 405,” Tanya explained. “It was hell getting here.” She dropped her keys into her purse and flipped her hair out of her face. “Remind me not to get bangs again. This shit is whack.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “You good?”
Smiling at her, Paige said, “Yes. Just ready to get this over.”
“It’s only a short time out of your life. Then you’ll do theOpal Showand have a good cry.”
Opal Winfield had a knack for getting people to cry on her show. The questions were always thought provoking and she was extremely sincere, almost like a favorite auntie. Every single time Paige had visited the talk show, she’d cried.
“Did you get my email?” Tanya asked, staring at her phone. “I talked to James. He still wants you.”
Paige shook her head. Tanya had been trying to get her to sign on for her boyfriend James’s film. Initially, Paige thought it would be good for her career. But after Andrew had given his opinion, she’d taken more time to think about whether it was the best move. In the end, she knew he was right. The NetPix deal was better, by far. And she would have creative input, which would align with her plan to segue into more production projects.
“We’ll talk about it,” Paige said absently, glancing down at her phone again. Still no calls from Andrew.
Skye approached them again. “Okay, they’re ready for you.”
After one last look toward the door, she followed Skye to the set.
Twenty minutes later, Paige stormed off the set, fury lacing through her veins. She scanned the area, looking for Andrew.No Andrew. Checking her phone, she realized he hadn’t called either. Maybe he was off fixing things, pulling strings like he’d done so well throughout her career?
At the far end of the room, Tanya was yelling at one of the producers. Off in the corner, Skye was barking orders at someone on the phone. Paige couldn’t make out everything her publicist was saying, but the wordsfuckandyouresonated with her, even though Skye hadn’t actually said them together. Paige wanted to say them, though—to Wendell Fuckin’ Wilson.
Despite the measures they’d put in place prior to the interview, despite the agreed-upon discussion points, Wendell had followed his own plan. And, once again, Paige was the one who suffered.
The interview had started out well enough. Questions about upcoming projects, compliments on her latest performanceandher shoes. But things took a sudden and dangerous turn, especially when Wendell blindsided her with a series of questions about her relationship with Andrew. Things got even worse when that damn asshole interrogated her about her “secret life.”
But the worst thing that had happened?She’dstumbled. Instead of eloquent and measured responses, she’d paused, she’d stammered, and then she’d shut down. In front of the studio audience. Everything that she’d rehearsed flew out the window as Wendell hammered her with a recap of her tumultuous marriage, the contentious divorce, and her alleged bad behavior and fake ways.Dammit.
The door opened, and once again, she thought it might be Andrew. Only to be disappointed when one of the production assistants she’d met earlier rushed inside. She glanced at her publicist and her manager again. Everyone was there, except for the one person she expected to be there—the one person who’d promised to be there.
Tanya fired off one last threat to the producer and headed toward Paige. She opened her mouth to speak, but Paige said, “Not now, Tanya.”
“We’re going to light him up,” Tanya said. “We got you.”
Paige knew her manager and her publicist would do everything they could to help her. But sometimes, even the best efforts didn’t cut it. Paige had learned that people could not be controlled, that people did what they wanted to do, thatpeoplebroke promises. But she didn’t want to hear about their plans. She needed to get out of there. Now.
The door swung open one more time, and Vonda stepped through the door, phone in hand.What the hell?Vonda’s presence meant only one thing—Andrew had sent her. After everything they’d gone through to get back right, he’d turned around and done the same damn thing. Instead of calling her, he’d sent Vonda. Instead of being there, he’d sent Vonda.
Fuming, she asked Tanya, “When did Vonda get here?”
Tanya glanced back at Vonda, who was now talking to Skye, then turned back to Paige. “Oh. She got here while you were on set,” Tanya said. “I guess Andrew couldn’t make it?”
First, Andrew didn’t answer her many calls. Now, he was back to sending Vonda to handle her. With her thoughts spinning—about Andrew, about Wendell, about Julius—she snatched her purse off the chair. Her eyes filled with tears, and she willed herself not to let a single one fall. Paige was done crying.I’m so fuckin’ done with everything. Then, without another word, Paige left.
An hour later, Paige pulled into her driveway. She looked down at her buzzing phone. Skye again. Her publicist had called her numerous times since she’d left the studio, and Paige hadn’t answered a single call. What she needed right now was to be alone.
Tanya had called, too. So did Chastity. Everyone had called excepthim. Just like everyone was there but him. When her phone rang again, she sent the call to voicemail and sent out a group text to her team: Stop calling. I’m not going back to Michigan.
Paige wasn’t planning on pulling another “South Haven,” as Skye had called it. But she was going to make a few key changes. It was time she stopped depending on everyone else to handle her business. No more running. Paige wasn’t a victim. She was a victor. And she knew what she had to do.
She’d only been in the house long enough to pour a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door. Jogging to the front of the house, she paused when she recognized the outline of her visitor through the glass.Andrew.
Taking a deep breath, she continued to the door and swung it open. He stood on the other side, hands in his pockets and a soft smile on his lips. He looked like temptation bathed in chocolate. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and his beard was freshly shaven. He smelled like spices and leather and grapefruit. Yesterday, that look would have gotten him sexed thoroughly as soon as he’d crossed the threshold. But today?Not happening.
