Page 38 of Saving Ian Pope

“That’s not too bad. They must’ve missed the part when that idiot almost knocked me over. Anything else?”

“It’s rumored that a new album is in Pope’s future, and there’s positive buzz around the songs, written in collaboration with one of the writers who worked with Five2Go.” My shoulders relaxed. Jack had done his job.

“How do they know all that?” Tilting her head to one side, she wrapped her ponytail around her hand.

“I do have a manager and PR team behind me, and occasionally they’re able to generatesomebeneficial news about me to the press.”

She side-eyed the screen once more before taking a sip of her neglected drink. “That’s horrible having your face out there.”

Tracing the tip of my finger around her head in the picture, I said, “Your beautiful face. They like me again because they like you. They’re happy that you’re not a celebrity or influencer.”

“How do you know all that?”

“I read a few of the comments.”

She dropped the toast she’d just picked up. “You’re kidding me. There are comments?”

“Don’t read them. They can take you down a rabbit hole. Just believe what I say. Very favorable comments about you and your appearance.”

She crossed one index finger over the other and held up her hands as if warding off an evil spell. “I don’t want to read any comments about my appearance.”

“I don’t blame you and I don’t encourage it, but they are good.”

“And you?” Dropping her eyes to her plate, she folded her hands. “Are the comments about you okay, or are they...mean?”

“Like I said earlier, they like you, so they like me.” There were still some comments slagging me off but not as many as usual. I ran a hand back from my forehead; was my hairline really receding as fast as my career? Ivy didn’t need to know any of that. I snapped my laptop closed. “Enough of that. Let’s eat and go to the...”

“Griffith Park. We can take a hike and then go to the observatory later.”

“We were in that area last night.” I shoved my laptop out of the way and dug into my breakfast. “If we’re hiking, I’ll skip my run this morning. Got up too late, anyway.”

“Okay, you finish breakfast. I’ll take a shower first.” She carried her dishes to the sink. “Oh, and Chloe called me from her car. She’s almost home. Left San Diego early after a big fight with Trent.”

“Uh-oh. Does that mean she’s going to be in a foul mood.” I put my hands over my head. “Should I take cover?”

“I think I was too distracted by those pictures to dwell on her misery or anger—depending on what Trent did this time.” On her way to her bedroom, Ivy messed up my hair with one hand and then kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you, just like you protected me last night.”

When I heard the shower start, I jumped back online and scanned through a few more articles with pictures. The stunt had worked out okay. If I’d been drunk, I might’ve hauled off and punched the annoying photographer instead of poking him with my elbow. But I wasn’t, and I didn’t.

The front door burst open, and I slammed my laptop shut.

Chloe shouted to no one in particular, “That drive is a bitch, and I don’t have to make it, anymore.”

She dropped something in the hallway and rounded the corner to the kitchen. Seeing me, she tripped to a stop. “Where’s Ivy?”

I tipped my head toward the hallway. “Taking a shower. You alright?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic! I got rid of that jerk, finally.” She collapsed in the chair Ivy had vacated. “So, you went to the Greek last night and got papped. Ivy must’ve loved that.”

I licked a bit of strawberry from my lip. “It upset her, but we got through it okay.”

“But there are pictures all over the place.” Chloe launched herself out of the chair and bent over, opening a cupboard. She studied the contents, intently.

“The photos are good, and she looks great.” I felt as if I were mounting a defense of myself, which I was.

“Ivy doesn’t care about that shit.” Chloe crouched in front of the cupboard. “You see a bag of chips?”

Damn. “I, um, ate them last night. Sorry, I’ll replace them.”