Page 72 of Professional Consult
“Of course. Not with your Hollywood wardrobe.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just…fuck.”
“Let’s just go.”
We ride to the private airfield in silence. The jet is already waiting for me.
“Luke, I—”
“I think you should leave.”
“I just wanted to say—”
“I don’t care what you have to say, Lexi. You need to go.”
So I do. I get out of the cruiser and climb the steps into the aircraft.
But as the plane taxis, I look out the window to see Luke running alongside us.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I squint, trying to bring him to focus. His hands are shaped in a heart that he’s placed at his chest, and as we pull out of range, I see him point to me.
He’s telling me he loves me.
And I fully intend on showing him I love him back. I just have to convince the production company to let me go.
CHAPTER17
LEXI
I’m starting to believe I may have bitten off more than I can chew.
It’s been a week since I’ve been back home, and every day is filled with dread and uncertainty. Cast pictures have been taken, but not revealed yet, thankfully.
The production company is livid with the false leaks, to say the least, and if they’re somehow linked to me, my reputation won’t just be damaged. It will be destroyed.
Then there are the legal implications I’d have to overcome because my dumb ass could get sued over this.
Right now, only two people know that I’m involved. Clint, who I’m fairly certain will keep his mouth shut, and Alicia, who is a bit of a risk.
It’s not that I regret my decision to try and wiggle out of my contract. It’s that I wish I’d planned better. Being in Pond Spring with Luke was just too good to be true, and it made me urgent and careless.
And now, I have to put on the greatest acting performance of my life.
“Fuck,” Milton mutters under his breath as he unwraps a Werther’s Original and pops it into his mouth. The sound of it clinking against his teeth sets me on edge.
I’ve been sitting in his office for an hour while he’s made various calls, trying to undo the damage that has been done while attempting to uncover the source.
A knock sounds on the door, and I jump from my seat to let Clint in, relieved to have an excuse to get up.
“Sorry it took so long,” Clint apologizes.
Again, I’m forced into the chair I’ve been occupying for far too long while doing too little.
Milton’s head slowly lifts, his eyes meeting mine, then shifting over to Clint’s.
“We’re going to have to go forward with an announcement. We wanted to wait on this in order to draw out suspense and anticipation, but my hand has been forced.”
“That is a mistake,” Clint says.
