Page 29 of Falling Into Forever
I’m not sure what possesses me to try and comfort the name-dropping ass, but I do. My hand lands on his forearm, but it’s not gentle like when Ainsley does it, and it hits like a slap, so I immediately take it away.
“Somehow, I don’t think your, um, friend gives a shit about who I am.” Internally I cringe as I turn toward the camera.
Lena smiles warmly, and it lights up her face. I don’t explore why I instantly want to trust her. “You couldn’t be more wrong,” she says with a gentleness I’ve never had. “I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Saylor Greer, and I’m super happy your favorite flower wasn’t a geranium or something. Poppy could have had a very difficult childhood.” She pops a dimple, so I continue before she asks the questions dancing in her inquisitive eyes.
“Um, so, anyway. How do you know?”
Dante sighs, and it blows his hair around his forehead. “Because the reporters didn’t simply happen upon us the night I threatened them. That restaurant isn’t a normal hotspot. That type of ambush in Hollywood was carefully created by puppet masters who understand what kinds of stories the world wants, and only a select few people on my staff would have known where I was that night.”
“Puppet masters. You mean you. You’re the mastermind.”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Usually, anyway. I pull the strings and choreograph break-ups, make-ups, and everything in between. Drama in Hollywood is almost always scripted.”
His confession doesn’t sit well with me. Would I be doing the same thing if I had been strong enough to go with him? My stomach flips over at the thought. Creating drama in people’s lives feels dirty and wrong, but who am I to judge? I write words people can get lost in, so is it really that different?
“It’s shitty because I should be able to trust my team. They’re all on my payroll, and I hand-selected them all,” he says, staring straight at me. “But my brother will sell my soul, and apparently, everyone I care about, to get what he wants.”
I still don’t understand, and my confusion must show on my face.
“Saylor.” It should piss me off that he uses that name. No one in my life calls me Saylor, not anymore. But my body responds like I’ve saved that piece of myself for him. “You understand what I do, right? Why Kate called me to help you?”
No.My mind is still working through the mental gymnastics of having Dante suddenly back in my life.
My fists clench, and the knuckles on my right hand crack.
“I own the most sought-after public relations firm in California, Saylor. I’m who all those celebrities call when their lives are falling apart. We say they’re in some sort of rehab, but truthfully, they’re usually on the beach somewhere while I find a new way to spin their bullshit to get them out of trouble. Or I create buzz around a new ‘relationship’ when there’s a movie to promote or an album to sell.”
“You’re a professional liar,” I say, twisting my lips into a frown.
His smile is sad. “That’s one way to spin it. This is the first time I’ve needed the spinning, though.”
“Same,” I grumble.
“Think of it as a mini time-out,” Lena says. I scrunch my nose and scratch my neck when I realize she’s talking to me.
“Um, I may have told the daughter of a very important person to stick a dildo to a hard surface and spin. Or, you know, something like that, during a live interview that was meant to promote childhood literacy programs. The way they’ve spliced the video makes me look…” I tear my gaze away from the screen. “I’ll need a little more than a time-out.”
Her face softens with her words. “I’ll admit. I saw it live before they edited it to the mess it is now. It wasn’t your fault, though. She was obviously digging for something, and she’s the one who came off as unprofessional, not you. It really sucks that they can manipulate that stuff like they did,” she says with a kindness my heart says is real.
Yeah, they edited the hell out of the replay. My cheeks heat. “You’re one of the millions and counting, then?”
She nods. “Afraid so, but I’m also a big fan.”
“I hate her,” I mutter.
Lena’s laugh is throaty and carefree.
“Oh, not you. I mean, I don’t know you. I…”
“I’m not a fan of Rebecca’s,” she says like you’d tell someone they were being silly. “I’m a fan of yours. I’m the one who pushed Dante into reading your books. They got me through a pretty dark period of my life, and when I readApril Rain, well, I knew.”
My skin prickles as I turn my wary heart toward Dante. “You read my books?”
He nods.
“A—All of them?”
Another nod. “I told you I’d always be your biggest fan, but admittedly, I didn’t read any of them until about a month ago. It was—too hard.”
