Page 86 of Falling Into Forever
She nods while staring at a spot on the wall in front of us.
“I believe you. Through everything, I’ve never once questioned your loyalty. Not once,” she says, but her tone is unreadable. “What else?”
“Nothing good, and everything that will eventually hurt Poppy. Trent was one of the most sought-after child stars of his time, and people still love the memories he evokes, so they eat up whatever he does, even if it’s to his own detriment. He’s been chasing fame for so long that now he figures any press is good press.”
Saylor rocks in place but doesn’t say anything.
“He goes out of his way to make sure it’s his name that’s trending, and sometimes, that exposes Poppy. Thankfully, the press eventually gets bored with our silence about her, and they’ll find another story, but this is a direct hit. This is a landmine of gossip.”
I watch her carefully as I continue. “I wish I’d known more about how Hollywood works when I first got to California. If I had only done a little research, I would have tried harder not to become a celebrity by entanglement because now when he needs that hit of fame, I’m an extra layer he can pepper in to get the attention he craves.”
My sigh feels like an exorcism. “He gave this whole speech about why there’s never pictures of him with her. He said it’s too painful to see his niece and that she was a daily reminder of the deceit that happened right under his nose. In his house.”
“Fucking motherfucking cocksucking dickhead,” she mumbles.
“That about sums it up, yeah.”
“First, he says you’re a danger to his daughter.” She rubs her temples with both hands. “Now he says she’s not his daughter. What the hell is wrong with him? Why would anyone believe him? What are you going to do?” Her eyes snap open and pierce me with the emotion in them.
“He’s becoming more unhinged by the day, which will work in our favor. We can take the high road here and not come out any worse for the wear. He’ll dig his grave with his lies, and we’ll show the world the truth. That all of us—you, me, Lena, and Poppy—are a happy, healthy family. He’s being dramatic though, so this news will find an audience because they don’t care about the truth.”
Anger burns hot in my stomach, and I have to consciously make an effort to stay calm. “I’ll make an official statement, then talk to my lawyer about removing him from Ascendancy, which I should have done a long time ago. After that, I’ll put out fires as they come.”
That impressive impersonation of a bobblehead is back, but I give her some space because she’s clutching her necklace, which likely means she’s working through things in her head.
“I’m running over to Grady’s to pick them up. They’ll need a rental car for now. Do you want to come?”
Shouting draws our attention to the closed window.
“What the hell?” I jump out of bed and pull back the curtains to find Ainsley fighting through a crowd that’s trying to get the money shot and has no desire to let her pass until they do.
“Shit. Get dressed,” I say. Then I pull on some jeans, grab a T-shirt, and run down the front stairs to the bookstore.
“Dante?” Saylor yells behind me, but I’m already down the stairs and running to the front porch. “Ainsley,” I shout over the crowd. She must be in the middle of the growing circle, but she’s being swallowed by a sea of vultures. “Ainsley,” I call again. This time I draw the attention of one of the photogs.
He moves back enough for my gaze to snag on eyes wide with fear and exactly like Saylor’s. My stomach clenches. I should have prepared her for this.
I don’t have any shoes on, but I run down the porch steps, hitting the bottom stair when I hear Saylor burst through the front door behind me.
“Get the fuck off my property.”
I love this woman, but she’s truly a PR nightmare.
“Say—Sassy. Stop. Get inside. I’ll get Ains.”
“Wait. There’s two of them?” someone in the crowd says.
“Sassy? Which one are you?” a man asks Ainsley.
Without giving her a chance to answer, I wrap my arms around her and guide her through the shit show.
“I’m calling the sheriff,” Saylor yells from the door, but at least she’s retreating. “Step foot on my property again and see what happens.” She shakes her fist in the air like a ninety-year-old woman.
“We’re on the sidewalk. Public property,” one of them says.
“Bullshit. I built that sidewalk myself. The public sidewalk is on the other side of the street, asshole.” Saylor charges forward like she’s going to fight them, but I snag her around the waist, haul her and Ainsley inside, then slam the door.
When I set Saylor on her feet, I’m pretty sure she has steam billowing from her ears, but she rushes to Ainsley. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? What the hell is happening out there? Don’t you have to be at the hospital today? I’m going to get a gun. Why are you here?”
