Page 134 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

“Becks?” Izzy asks. “What—what are you doing here?”

When she finally steps back, I can see Becks’s bright green eyes and James is standing a few feet away staring at her adoringly.

“Al flew me in as a surprise last night for the party, but my flight got delayed. I only just got in a few hours ago.”

Izzy hugs her again. “It’s so good to see you,” she says, the words muffled by her sweater. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Becks looks at me and cocks a smooth brow. Her eyes flick between Izzy and me. Offering her a small nod and a smile, she jumps forward to wrap her arms around me. “I knew you two would figure it out eventually,” she whispers in my ear. “Butlisten,” she says, stepping back. She averts her gaze over to where Izzy gives James a hug. “Maybe it’s really good you guys figured it out because, well . . .”

My heart rate spikes. “Spit it out, Becks.”

She bites her lip and stands rigid like a statue. “I have to show something to Isabella, and . . .” She trails off. “I don’t think it’ll go over well.”

Something hard clenches in my stomach. “What do you mean?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

The look on Izzy’s face and the way she behaved a few moments ago makes me think she might already know what this is.

Becks leans forward and grabs her hand. “Isabella, I . . . there’s something I think you should see. But before you do, you should know that we’re all here for you and we care about you—”

“Becks, what the hell is all this about?” I ask, growing more and more irritated.

Becks looks at James, who subtly nods, then she turns and pulls out a rolled-up newspaper from her bag. She hands it to us and Izzy takes it.

“This is theEast Bay Chronicle,” Izzy says, looking at the header.

“Flip to the entertainment section,” Becks says with a grimace.

Sweat trickles down the back of my neck at Becks and James’s reaction to whatever the hell this is. Izzy’s hands tremble as she thumbs through to the entertainment section. Then with a gasp the paper drops down, splashing across the floor, and my eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

There, on the front page of the entertainment section of the paper, is a picture of my Izzy in nothing but a thong. And . . . is thatmyautograph?

CHAPTER 42

Controversy

ISABELLA

“Journalist or Groupie?” I shriek.

There’s a droning in my ears as I stare at the picture of myself in the paper. One copy of how many possible thousands that could be out there circulating. I thought he was bluffing. I thought at most it would end up in theStoneman Press. I thought there was no way a real newspaper would print something so explicit. And as surprised as I am to find myself featured in a newspaper, I am completely unsurprised by the name of the author under the title. Simon Cranmer.

“What the fuck?” Dave says harshly, grabbing the paper and hiding the image of me from any onlookers. Why does he even bother? All of San Francisco has probably seen this by now.

My hunger pains turn sharply to nausea.

“I’m going to be sick,” I whisper, then push harshly on Dave to move out of the way.

My sight blurs as I try to locate the bathroom. I see it in the distance and run for it, bile rising up my throat as I’m within feet of the door. I don’t make it to the toilet, but thankfully I do make it to the sink. Not having eaten anything, yellow bile pools againstthe white porcelain, and I clamp my eyes shut and blindly reach for the faucet to wash it away.

I’m shaking violently when the heaving finally stops. A gentle knock on the bathroom door forces a deep breath to enter my lungs.

“Isabella?” I hear Becks call. “I’m coming in, okay?”

I don’t answer, but when she enters and wraps her arms around me, I sink into her embrace. She may have brought horrific news, but I would rather hear it from her than be blindsided later.

“Izzy,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve this.”

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