Page 103 of Doctor’s Forbidden Match

“I like that plan,” Karyn says as her dark eyes meet mine. “You can do this.”

I manage a smile, and for the first time today, it isn’t entirely forced. “Yeah. I feel better.” Saying it out loud that I’m not just going to wait this out calms me. “I can’t physically help him right now, but the quicker I nail these scenes, the quicker today’s over. Then I can call him. Figure out what’s actually happening and how I can help fix it.”

“He’s been so nice,” Mia says, tucking a strand of my hair back. “Genuinely kind. Thoughtful. And the way they’ve portrayed you both in that article is disgusting. I don’t even know how they could write something so far from the truth.”

“I’m not worried about the diva thing.” Even though the word is sitting right behind my eyes, refusing to leave. “I’m concerned about him.”

“It’s still not okay,” Jaina argues. “Portraying you like some spoiled brat when anyone who’s actually worked with you knows that’s not true.”

I nod in agreement, emotion welling up in my throat, and force myself to stand, setting down the still-full mug of tea. “I need to focus. Be professional. And then I need to figure out how to help him.”

Karyn, Mia, and Jaina exchange glances, then nod.

“We’ve got your back,” Mia says simply.

Those four words are enough to light a fire within me for the rest of the day.

Once I center myself and return to set, the remaining scenes don’t take long. I find the rhythm again, let the character take over, pushing my own feelings into a locked box somewhere deep inside. By early afternoon, I’m ahead of schedule. Dain gives me an approving nod, and I feel a small flush of pride.

But then comes the interview with Lilia and Mac.

Lilia’s touching up her makeup, and Mac barely glances up from his phone.

“Some people just need to be carried around, don’t they?” Lilia says, during what she thinks is a casual moment between camera setups. But the light’s still on. Her smile is sickly sweet, all white and no warmth, her eyes cutting straight to me. “Some of us just can’t be professional.”

Mac chuckles, nodding along. “Yeah, some people just need their hand held through everything.”

My lips thin, but I force myself to remain neutral, even though I want to tell them exactly where they can shove their opinions.

I can’t stand them. They don’t even know me, not really, yet they judge me based on one crap article written by someone who’s never spent a single minute with me.

But they’ve been rude to everyone since day one. Not only me.

I make it through the interview by imagining they lose. It’s petty, but it works.

“That’s a wrap for today,” Dain calls at 5 p.m.

The moment I can, I grab my bag and let Channing help me to the car.

I spend the drive home rehearsing what I want to say to Zac. Not just whether he’s okay, but something that helps. I think about Mr. Peltz, about the timing of all this, about who would benefit from him being suspended with two weeks left.

Channing helps me inside the house and leaves once I’m settled. I don’t think about dinner. My stomach’s too twisted for food.

I probably shouldn’t be doing this. He’s dealing with enough without me adding to it. But the guilt won’t let me concentrate on the TV.

I call him and put myself out of my misery.

It rings a few times, my heart climbing with each one. I’m about to hang up—

“Hi,” he answers calmly.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

“Pretty shitty, if I’m honest.” He exhales heavily, and I can picture him exactly—jaw tight, shoulders slumped, sitting in that too-big house. “I’ve gone from angry to sad to just hopeless. None of this makes sense.”

“So, what’s actually going on? Do you know who’s behind it?”

“Peltz has a photo. From outside your place. I was helping you up the steps. It doesn’t show anything. He’s using it as grounds for suspension. Professional ethics violation, conflict of interest, whatever language lets him push it through.”