Dahlia heard the sneer in his voice and ignored it.
Chandler pushed open the glass doors leading to the parking lot, and a wave of humid heat slammed into Dahlia, taking her breath.
“What’s your next project? I heard Victor was trying to get you on Peachtree’s new rom-com.”
Dahlia kept her face neutral. Her plan to fire her agent/manager was a secret, and she needed to keep it that way. Two photographers rounded the corner, cameras raised, and Dahlia immediately put a relaxed expression on her face. She didn’t want to give social media a chance to say she was anything but perfectly happy.
Her heart tightened. Would she ever get to be just Dahlia, and not Lia, the character Victor created?
Wipe that frown off your face, girl! Ungrateful brat! What do you have to be unhappy about? Spoiled little bitch, just like your mother!
Her grandmother’s voice rang in her ear as clear as it had been fifteen years ago.
“Hello? Earth to Lia?”
Dahlia refocused her eyes on Chandler, who gave their ticket to the valet, flexing his biceps for the paparazzi. She would bet he’d called them himself.
“It was too late to get on that production. Victor says he’s got some plans.”
She hadn’t pushed Victor about her next job because she had no intention of having him represent her anymore. Dahlia should probably start the search for new representation, but as vast a business as the entertainment industry was, it was also a lot like the small town she’d grown up in. Victor would hear as soon as she put out serious inquiries. It was easier this way.
Chandler stiffened and cursed under his breath, bringing her back to the present. His hand tightened on her waist as he faced her. “Fuck! Fuck!”
Dahlia’s eyes widened in the face of his obvious panic. “What’s wrong?” Over Chandler’s shoulder, she saw two men stalking towards them just as the valet arrived with Chandler’s Range Rover.
“Get in the car.” Chandler jogged to the door and jumped into the driver’s seat.
Dahlia stared at him, confused, and then looked at the two men who approached her with dark scowls.
Instinct had her moving. She opened the door and hopped in just as one man shouldered past the valet.
“Do you know them?”
Panting, Chandler gripped the steering wheel tightly as he peeled out of the parking lot. He was driving far too fast for the narrow lanes of Buckhead.
“Chandler slow down.”
He ignored her, pressing down on the accelerator and speeding through a light as it turned red. Dahlia gripped the console as he raced up on cars stopped in traffic, only to slam on his brakes.
“Shit! Fuck! How did they know I was there?”
Dahlia wanted to ask what was going on, but what she really wanted was to get out of the car before he killed them. “Pull over, Chandler!”
His face turned red as if he didn’t hear her, and he pounded his palm on the steering wheel, the veins in his neck pulsing. “Who do they think they are? I’m a motherfucking star! How dare they?”
Chandler was going in the direction opposite the townhouse she rented.
“Chandler,” she tried again in a soothing voice, as he ramped himself up into a fury.
His head whipped to hers before his gaze went back to the road. Dahlia laid a hand on his forearm. His skin twitched under her fingers.
“Chandler! Pull over, I feel sick.” It wasn’t a total lie. His erratic driving, along with her nerves, was making her nauseous.
“Huh?”
“The food. I’m going to be sick.”
Her words seemed to break through his anger, and his eyes turned to her. “Oh, shit. This is a rental!” They rocketed into a parking lot, and Chandler slammed on the brakes.