Page 75 of Open for Negotiation

“Oh my God.” I cover my mouth and look over to Max, who is now charging toward the set.

“Shut it off. Now!” he shouts, pointing, barking orders he has no authority to give.

Tears fill my eyes as photos of Carson and I flash by in rapid succession, mixed in with all the articles, hate mail, graffiti, and everything I’ve tried so hard to run away from.

The staff is scrambling, trying to figure out why they can’t get the feed to cut and I’m frozen to the floor when another picture comes up, but this time… it’s moving… it’s a video.

But not of Carson and me.

It’s a video of Max and I making love in his living room. Someone shot it from the window.

And that… brings silence from our entire team.

And heartbreak and embarrassment for me.

Max

I’m not able to catch her, to stop her, before she takes off from the set, covering her face and her tears. The feed is finally cut, albeit too late, but the screen goes black and cameras are no longer broadcasting.

“I’m going to check on my… employee,” I say to anyone within earshot. “Someone needs to find answers to how this happened and give them to me NOW,” I growl before following the path she took, unable to ignore the eyes of my staff that sear into me when I walk by them.

I’m going to have just as many questions to answer as answers given to me.

The door to the greenroom we had, not even thirty minutes ago, been intimate in is closed and when I turn the handle, it’s locked.

“Scarlett.” I knock. “Come on, open the door.”

“Please just leave me alone, Max.” I hear her from right on the other side of the wood, and all I can picture is her shutting herself in isolation and sliding down to the floor and crying her beautiful eyes out… and it guts me.

“I need you to let me in. We need to handle this together, okay?”

I can feel my cell phone vibrating incessantly in my pocket, no doubt my attorney, parents, Jackson, anyone who has my number that may have been watching the news or even anyone with social media.

As much as it makes me sick, this will be nationwide news within minutes.

I lay my forehead on the door and place my palm flat against it. “Please, baby. Let me in.”

I hear shuffling on the other side, and take a step back, exhaling in relief when the door swings open. I step inside and close it behind me, locking it for good measure.

Her mascara is running down her cheeks and her eyes are puffy and full of tears. I’ve never seen her like this and I’d kill to make sure I’d never have to again.

“I’m mortified,” she says simply, dropping down to the sofa and beginning to sob again.

“Listen to me, I’m going to find out who did this.”

“Oh my God, Max,” she scoffs, pushing me away. “We both know who did this. Please stop pretending like you don’t know.”

She’s right, I do know because just like everything else that fucks up in my vicinity, this has Miranda’s name written all over it.

“I will take care of—”

“You can’t!” she screams in frustration. “The damage is done, Max. You don’t know what it’s like to be the woman in a sex scandal, which newsflash, is exactly what this will become. I’ve already been painted a whore once in my life and I nearly didn’t overcome it. I can’t do it again.”

“What are you saying?” I try to take her face in my hands and she shoves my hands away.

“Please don’t touch me.”

Her words sting, right down to my heart.

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