Page 114 of The Oscar Escape
“Might, what?” she roared. “Make me cancel my tour?”
He ran his hands through his hair and paced in front of her. “I wanted you to slow down and take care of yourself. You have to stop fooling yourself into thinking this is what you want.”
He was not helping his case.
She squared her jaw. “What is it that you think I want?”
He stopped and gestured to the helicopters. “You think you need this circus, this never-ending loop of insanity. But you don’t.”
It wasn’t his damned call!
“You want me hidden away and out of the spotlight? Do you think we can escape into a fantasy world where you’re free to gallivant across the globe for work, and I’m tucked away pining for your return?”
He didn’t answer. He peered at the ocean, then huffed.
His tell.
“I’m right.” She surveyed the scene. Her gaze bounced between Oscar and Justin. “You two are quite a pair.” She pointed at Justin. “You want me to promote your tour.” She turned her wrath on Oscar. “And you don’t give a damn about my goals. You two should go out for drinks sometime.”
“We should,” Justin said. “We’ll be working together soon.”
Oscar’s expression hardened. “There’s not a chance in hell I’d work with you.”
“Your manager confirmed it with my people over a week ago. You’ll be documenting my next tour along with your buddy Phil.”
And the crazy bombs kept falling.
With her jaw on the ground, she glared at Oscar. “You agreed to work for Justin? You’re documenting his tour. You didn’t think to mention that to me? That’s eight months on the road.”
“I didn’t know it was for Justin’s band. Inez booked it for me. I didn’t ask any questions,” he stammered.
“This is the moment Oscar reveals he’s leaving Aria,” Lisa said, whisper-shouting as she stared at her cell and walked backward.
“Are you recording?” Aria snarled, so done with this bullshit.
“I am,” the panty chick chirped, walking backward to keep herself in the frame. “This is great stuff. I can sync it to one of your songs and share it online. I’m sure to get another million followers after I post.” She took another step and shrieked as she tripped over a rock and keeled forward. Her phone went flying, and she bonked her head on a trail post. “Ow!” she whined, rubbing the spot. “Why do I always hit my head on this island?”
“Serves you right,” Aria chided and scooped up her phone.
“What are you doing with that?” Lisa balked.
“Say goodbye to another million followers,” she replied and stomped over to the bluff’s edge. She chucked the phone into the ocean, then stormed back to the group. “Have Justin get you another phone,” she said, taking in the shit show. It was time to rid herself of the audience. “Get out of here,” she ordered, eyeing Justin and Lisa. “And take your Hawaiian shirt jackasses with you.”
“Just so you know,” Justin said, losing the smarmy vibe. “I understand that what I did was shitty. But never wanted to be with me. The only thing you want is to work. Who could compete with that?” He helped Lisa to her feet and gestured for the Hawaiian paparazzi to leave with him.
Was Justin right? No, he was a jerk and a player. But that didn’t stop that knot in her stomach from twisting and tightening, like her body was trying to tell her something.
“Aria, I swear I didn’t know the job was documenting Justin’s band,” Oscar pleaded.
She forgot about her stomach and crossed her arms. “I get it. Still, I need you to tell me why you didn’t contact Inez and cancel the job?”
“Because I have to work,” he said, his cheeks growing crimson. “That’s why I can’t have you living the way you used to live. I can’t spend my life following you like a puppy.” He shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was—”
“No, I get it. I was a fool to think you had my back and cared about what I have to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” he pleaded.
“And you don’t have to go on the road for eight months,” she countered.
