“So, you never gambled that night?”
“No.”
James scribbled another note. “Good. If push comes to shove, we can always argue you weren’t told where you were going. Then, before you left, the robbery happened.” He set the pen down. “What’s Crawford going to say?”
“I have no idea. He doesn’t know that I’ve hired you yet.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and for the first time, Dahlia saw his resemblance to Cara. “I’d be happy to inform him.”
Dahlia’s brows came down. “Is it necessary that the studio knows?”
“If they’ve engaged Harrison to defend you, then yes. He needs to be told he is no longer your counsel.”
Dahlia took the coward’s way out. “If you could tell them, I’d appreciate it.”
James’s smile widened. “Love to. The only other thing we need to go over is what your press schedule looks like, and what is, and is not, okay to answer. There is no way of hiding the fact you were there. But if anyone asks, they invited you to a party,and until you got there, you didn’t know what was going on. Do you have a public relations team handling this?”
Dahlia thought of Heather, who handled her press releases. The woman was more of a freelancer, and Dahlia was far down on the list of the woman’s priorities. She shook her head.
“No problem. I doubt this will be a huge story. Rumor has it there were some celebrities there—” James winced. “I meant other celebrities.”
Dahlia smiled. “It’s okay. I know what you meant. I’m not a genuine celebrity—yet. We never made it past the front room.”
James got to his feet and shoved the files and legal pad into his bag. “It’s unlikely you have anything to worry about. I’ll come to the interviews you have planned, and if you veer off into dangerous territory, I’ll let you know. I hope your boyfriend heals quickly.”
His confidence eased her mind. After he left, Dahlia leaned against the door, realizing she hadn’t corrected his assumption about Chandler. James was extremely handsome, but there hadn’t been even the tiniest of sparks. Which was a good thing. The only time she’d had sparks with a man, it had ended horribly!
In fact, Dahlia thought, as she slipped out of the suit and back into her lounge clothes, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had anything more than a fleeting physical attraction to someone.
Dahlia had dated a little over the years, but nothing more than a couple of dinners. She’d even slept with a few of them. But they had been lukewarm physical exercises, and normally she was wondering how soon was too soon to leave after they were finished.
She would prefer to be left alone, but as Victor constantly reminded her, if she didn’t go out at all, it would lead people to ask questions. Dating was part of her job.
The world wasn’t aware that she was technically still married. They didn’t know she’deverbeen married. Dahlia hadn’t seen Scott in over seven years, and he’d spent more energy avoiding Victor and being served divorce papers than he ever had looking for a job. Or loving her.
Every year after he left, Scott would pop up. He would send Victor a message, randomly threatening to go public with Dahlia’s past—a very different past than the one Victor had created for her. Victor always paid him off. But Scott was too much of a coward to contact her himself.
Dahlia was finally gaining traction in the industry, and she had high hopes for this movie. If the public and the various studios found out her entire life was a lie, she wasn’t sure she would still have a career. There were literally thousands of women waiting to take her place.
James must have called Peachtree Pictures from his car because, less than an hour later, she received an irate phone call from Victor.
“You hired a different lawyer? Why would you do that? Crawford is pissed. I mean pissed with a capital P!” Victor raged at her.
The muscles in Dahlia’s back tightened. “Victor, I need my own lawyer. Think of how it looks. If I’m being represented by the studio, it will look like a coverup.”
Dahlia may have been a sheltered, naïve nineteen-year-old when she came into this industry, but she’d learned a lot over the years. Especially about what mattered to the people in power.
“James Bloom’s sister used to work for the studio. That’s how I got his name. It was a quick decision. I wasn’t trying to bypass you.”
Dahlia worried for a second that she should be concerned at how easily the lies dropped from her lips. She was hoping to put off the ultimate confrontation with Victor until the last minute.
“I don’t think Crawford cares about that, but I’ll tell him,” Victor huffed. “Do you want me to pick you up to go see Chandler later?”
She didn’t. Dahlia planned on driving herself, but she needed to give her agent something... “Sure.”
A hospital employeeushered them up to Chandler’s room via a special entrance. It surprised Dahlia how much seeing her costar in a hospital bed affected her. A vision of his blood welling between her fingers flashed in her mind.
An older couple, she assumed were Chandler’s parents, sat by his side. His mother gently patting his hand so as not to jar the IVs. He was pale beneath his tan, and his eyes though dull were open. He looked human. Vulnerable. Traits she didn’t normally associate with Chandler.