“Hey! You’re Lucas Alessi,” one of the photographers states.
Crap. I was hoping I wouldn’t be recognized. I don’t want my name involved with whatever shit Penelope has gotten herself into.
“Is this why Darren Ellis cheated on you with Karen Featherstone?” another says.
“Are you two dating?” The vultures keep firing questions at us.
When I rushed from the room, the door had closed behind me, and I have to pull the keycard from my pocket to unlock it again. The men follow close behind, still yelling out questions. Once the door opens, I usher her inside the room, slamming the door on the assholes’ faces.
Pulling away from me, Penelope swipes the tears from her cheeks. “Th-thank you f-for helping m-me,” she says, her voice shaking. “Th-they wouldn’t leave m-me alone.”
“What the hell was all that about?” Whenever photographers are that frenzied, something major has happened.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“About…about…” She fiddles with the belt on her robe. “The video?”
“What video?”
She gives me a dubious expression. “It’s all over the internet.”
Did she burn a cake or paint the wrong color in someone’s living room? Isn’t that what all her videos are about? Not that I’ve watched any. Harper and Alyssa are obsessed with her show. They’re constantly talking about how Penelope’s given them the motivation to redecorate their homes.
“Tell me about it,” I say.
She wraps her arms around her waist when her gaze lands on Angel. The top of Angel’s dress is back in place. As soon as I can get rid of Penelope, I’ll get back to removing it again.
“Oh, sorry,” Penelope says. “I’m disturbing you. I’ll just—”
“What?” I nod toward the door. “Go back out there? You said you locked yourself out of your room. How did you manage that?”
“I ran out to stop a friend before she got into the elevator, but I missed her. The door to the room closed behind me, and I didn’t have the key. Before I could decide what I was going to do, those men—” She shivers. “—surrounded me.” Then her eyes narrow. “They couldn’t have gotten onto my floor without a key. Didyoulet them up? Did you find out I was staying here and sic them onto me?”
My jaw tightens. There is a reason I never want to see this woman. She’s a cold, heartless bitch. “I just saved your ass out there and you’re accusing me of creating that circus. What was I thinking helping you? I should have left you in the hallway.”I stomp toward the door and grab the handle. “Good luck out there.”
She holds her hand out like a stop sign. “No! Please don’t open it.” Her expression turns contrite. “I’m sorry. I can’t make sense of anything at the moment.”
I drop my arm by my side. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
“You really don’t know?”
I shake my head. “I just got back from a photoshoot in Brazil. I haven’t touched my phone or been online.” After working five long days all I wanted to do was unwind in bed with a naked woman. Now Angel is sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging her leg from the knee, looking impatient. I have a feeling this night will not end the way I planned.
“Darren got caught cheating. Somone broadcasted a video of him having sex with Karen Featherstone at my show last night.”
“DarrenandKaren? Those names are a joke, right?” I’d laugh out loud if she wasn’t looking so serious.
“With rhyming names like that, they’re a match made in heaven,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The paparazzi’s questions now make sense. They also asked if we are dating. I’ll have to shut that rumor down fast. No way in hell do I want to be connected with Penelope Aldin.
“Who leaked the video?” I ask. “Was it Darren? He’s always been an attention whore.” Before he hooked up with Penelope, he was constantly tipping off the paparazzi as to where he was and who he was with. But his relationship with Penelope was his golden ticket, so would he risk losing it all?
She scratches her chin. “Who else could it have been? It had to have been Darren. I don’t know who hates me that much.”
I can think of one person who hates her—me. Although, I’d never stoop to such a low level to hurt her. It would be a waste of my time. Time I don’t want to spend on her.
