Page 144 of Rescued by the Single Dad

“Oh, no, of course, of course. We’ll wait a few days. Get your hair done, your nails and have you polished and ready. Joel Fiske also wants to talk to you about his upcoming film. He thinks you’d be perfect for the lead.”

“Joel Fiske, really?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that exciting? So it depends if you want to do interviews before you land the part or after. Then you can promote the film at the interview. You know, two for one?”

Brooke studied her assistant and her bright-eyed eagerness. All she could muster was a press of her lips. The corners of her mouth refused to lift even a millimeter. “Thank you, Inez, for … for doing all of that. I appreciate it. I just ... I need some time before I get back to things. Okay?”

“Of course. Of course. But while we’re here, let’s go take some pictures, okay?” The door was already open, so she just unbuckled her belt and stepped out, slamming the driver’s side door a moment later.

Brooke just stared ahead, a not quite right feeling growing in her belly.

There was nobody else around. Not a soul. Not even a freaking bird was anywhere to be seen.

Her heart and head weren’t cooperating, either. Her heart remained back with Clint and Talia, while her brain tried to figure out why Inez wanted to come here so badly.

She hadn’t even been paying attention to where Inez went until Brooke’s door opened and Inez appeared, a gun pointed directly at Brooke. “Get out of the car.”

Brooke lifted her gaze to her assistant’s face. “Inez ...”

“Get. Out.” She jerked the gun, her eyes hard. That’s when Brooke noticed that Inez’s eyes were green. A very similar shade of green to Brooke’s in fact. Normally, she had muddy brown eyes. What?

Nodding, Brooke stepped out and stood up, the hair on her arms lifting.

The breeze off the water was warm, and the sun overhead and to the west beat down with benign heat. It was a perfect mid-May day, if not for the gun pointed at her and the broken heart in her chest.

“What’s going on?”

Inez ushered her down the trail, worn by probably thousands of people over the years. The grass was dry and long, but had been trod over and trampled so many times it gave up the good fight, and now there was nothing but a rut of dirt. “Like you don’t know,” Inez sneered.

“I don’t.” Brooke’s knees trembled as she scoured the ground for anything she could use as a weapon. A big rock, a stick, even a pinecone could work in a pinch. Jam it in her eye, or throw it at her head to distract her enough to run or get the gun.

But the ground was bare. Nothing but dirt and tall, dry grass.

They marched forward; the wind picked up and carried a chilly bite to it the closer to the edge of the cliff they got.

“Is it money?” Brooke asked, wracking her brain for why Inez would do this.

Inez scoffed. “No ... I mean, yes, but no.”

Brooke spun around, facing Inez, but with her back to the ocean. She didn’t want to look over the edge. The crashing sound of the surf below told her enough. It would be a long fall and jagged rocks waited at the bottom. She didn’t need to see it to know that falling off this cliff wouldn’t be the same as falling off the yacht.

“Then what?” she asked, buying herself time. “What is it?”

“You honestly don’t know?”

“No. Help me. Help me understand what could possibly make you want to hurt me right now.” Like a lightbulb flicking on to the point of blinding her, Brooke gasped. “You pushed me, didn’t you? Off the yacht. It wasn’t some crazed fan disguised as a waiter. It was you.”

Inez’s gaze grew harder.

“You framed someone? Is an innocent man going to prison? But ... he confessed. How did you—”

“Sextort a guy’s kid and he’ll pretty much do anything you say not to have his twelve-year-old daughter’s naked body shared across the internet and to all the kiddie porn sites out there.”

Bile coated the back of Brooke’s tongue, and her gut spun. “What? But I didn’t see you on the yacht. How—?”

Inez scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s called a disguise, moron. And of course you didn’t recognize me. You don’t recognize anybody remotely beneath you. I wore a waiter’s uniform, a black wig and glasses and became invisible to you.”

Brooke swallowed, a wave of embarrassment sending pulsating heat into her cheeks. “I … I’m sorry.”

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