Page 26 of Last Chorus

Movement down the hall turns my gaze to Sam, who jerks his thumb toward the front door. “I have to go,” I tell Shelley. “Leaving a restaurant surrounded by paps.”

“Ah, how delightful. Not that you need the reminder, but?—”

“Neutral expression and keep my mouth shut,” I say dryly.

“Exactly. Call me in ten?”

I move toward Sam. “My brain doesn’t work at your speed, Shelley. Give me an hour to think it over.”

“You got it. Oh, and don’t worry about calling Mack. That was my mistake. I forgot he was on vacation when I was trying to track you down. Talk soon.”

She hangs up just as I reach Sam and two nervous, rent-a-cop-looking guys, presumably from the restaurant’s security company. The noise from outside has definitely increased in volume. I wince when a woman’s scream confirms that the crowd now includes fans—rabid ones who will drop everything and risk speeding tickets to get wherever I’ve been spotted.

Belinda hovers before the archway leading to the dining room, a forced smile on her face. Standing beyond her is a family clearly waiting to leave. The kids gape at me while their parents give me double stink-eye.

“Sorry about this,” I tell Belinda. “I’ll be out of your hair in a sec.”

She rejects my apology with another one of her own, but she’s clearly frazzled and wants me gone.

The security guys introduce themselves to me as the four of us approach the door. I forget their names as soon as they’re spoken, a hundred percent of my mental effort focused on preparing myself for extreme sensory overload.

Inhale.Hold. Exhale.

When Sam looks back at me, I nod. He opens the door and pandemonium erupts. Shouts and screamsand bodies rushing, pressing, shoving. Every step toward the black car at the curb feels like a mile-long sprint. My breath is shallow, muscles tight, heart racing, but my face reflects none of my inner turmoil.

“Wilder! Wilder, over here!”

“Are you in L.A. to see Eva?”

“Look this way!”

“What happened in the bedroom last night, Wilder?”

“MARRY ME, PLEASE!”

“Wilder! Is Eva leaving Clay Eaton for you?”

When the car’s back door opens, I manage to slip inside calmly instead of diving. Sam forces his way around the hood while a crying woman yanks on the handle of my locked door and people jostle each other to get a good camera angle through the windshield.

Sam makes it inside, cursing as someone tries to crawl in with him. When he finally gets his door closed sans interloper, his eyes meet mine in the rearview.

“We’ll have to take the long way home.”

Meaning, he’ll have to lose however many cars are already waiting to tail us or risk leading them to my rental.

I want to tell him to take me straight to the private airport in Van Nuys. Every instinct is screaming for me to go home. But I can’t. If I bail now, it means abandoning Evangeline to deal with the mess I unintentionallymade in her life last night. Poisoning her mind further against me. Leaving her at the mercy of Clay and the rumor mill.

So instead of taking the easy way out, I smile faintly. “Figured. Thanks, man.”

“You got it.”

The security guys clear the crowd enough for us to pull away from the curb. It’s slow going for a block, the main road congested by people slowing to gawk. As soon as traffic opens up, Sam’s takes advantage and does what he does best, taking our followers on a merry chase until, close to an hour later, we’re in the clear.

By the time he pulls through the gate at my rental, I’ve read the article several times and cycled through an emotional spectrum ranging from joy to despair. I also texted with Jax and Rye and called my mom, who I shamelessly tasked with updating Evangeline’s parents.

When I walk inside the house, I finally call Shelley back with an answer about tomorrow. She isn’t thrilled but neither is she surprised.

No part of me is looking forward to sitting under the scrutiny of cameras while pretending I’m happy to share a meal with the woman I love and her abuser.

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