Chapter 53
FIFTY-THREE
Two Days Later
Ican’t stop staring at my phone.
It’s on the table, and I’m willing it to ring—or ding—with the special sound I assigned Jaxon’s texts. I haven’t heard from him since Saturday night.
I didn’t catch the game. I had to attend the annual party at the studio producing Next In Line. There was no getting around it. I had to be there.
I’m glad I went, though… because I got a surprise. One that’s still got me shaken to my core.
Which is why I’m here with Anne at the café in her office building. She only has an hour, and I’m taking all of it.
“I don’t know anymore,” I say, swirling my straw in my iced coffee. “Blaine and I—on the same show. How did this even happen?”
Anne gives me that look. The one I hate. Her sneaky look. The one that says she’s been holding out on me because she thinks she knows what’s best.
“What is it?” I ask sharply.
She sighs. “Okay. Let me just put all the chips on the table.”
I slap the tabletop. “All of them.”
“Blaine’s the one who recommended you for the role of Kayla Norton.”
My stomach drops.
She holds up a hand before I can speak. “And I jumped on that shit, Zara. You were a sinking ship.”
I wince. I felt it when I saw him last night—that feeling. Like I’d been kicked in the chest. And now, hearing this?
Anne was there when I couldn’t get out of bed. She doesn’t know about the shoplifting, but I have a closet full of crap I took when Blaine made me feel like nothing. Like I didn’t matter.
And now he’s back? Hand-delivering my career on a silver platter?
I glance at my phone again and shake my head. What the hell am I doing wrong in life? Why do the people I trust always end up slicing the deepest?
Blaine hadn’t shown up to table reads—his character comes in at episode three as Peter Folks, a cousin with a legit claim to the family’s empire. But last night, his smirk told me everything. He knew I was shocked. Knew I was pissed. And he enjoyed every second.
He never apologized for cheating on me. Just slipped straight into victim mode. I was the problem. I needed help.
But last night it hit me: Blaine isn’t living life—he’s producing The Blaine Show. And I’m just one of the characters.
The way he looked at me… then pretended not to.
The way he tried not to stare at every beautiful woman in the room—like he was putting on this whole show just for my benefit, like he wanted me to notice that he wasn’t looking.
That fake restraint, that forced composure—it was the biggest tell of all.
He hadn’t changed. He was just trying harder to look like he had.
And now I’m scared.
Am I doomed to fall for Blaine Bello types? All romantic and attentive at first, then disrespectful—and dangerous—by the end?
I mean… I had to go to the doctor. Get tested for everything. Thank God there was nothing I couldn’t cure.
Anne’s voice is running in the background, something about professionalism and power. About putting on my “big girl panties.”
Yes. She actually says that.
Then she frowns. “Why do you keep looking at your phone?”
I blink. “What?”
She narrows an eye. “You know you’re doing it.”
Before I can respond, her phone dings—not mine.
Her brow furrows as she checks the screen.
Then her whole face tightens.
“What the hell is this?”
She turns her phone around.
It’s a video from the Jumbotron—a split screen of Jaxon and Ashley. She’s blowing him a kiss.
My jaw drops. My throat tightens. Tears crowd my ducts, but I won’t let them fall. Not here. Not now.
“I gotta go,” I mutter, frantically grabbing my purse and jacket.
Anne grabs my arm. “Zara, take a beat.”
I freeze.
Too late. The tears are slipping out.
“Oh no,” she whispers, finally seeing it. “I knew this would happen. I knew Jaxon liked you.”
She lets go of my arm, but her gaze holds me in place. “And you like him too. That’s clear. So…”
She folds her arms, eyes narrowing with fresh calculation. “Have you been waiting for him to call you?”
I nod, ashamed. “Yes.”
Anne thinks for a moment. “This—we can’t have.” She stands. “Zara, this is about your career. You’re here—on the precipice. Millions of people have come to this city chasing what you have. Do not let boys ruin what you’ve built with your talent. Got it?”
I look at her—really look. Petite. Pretty. Looks like she belongs in a Hallmark movie. But she’s tough. Ruthless, even.
She once told me she didn’t start out this way. But “this business is full of sharks. And if you don’t bite first, they’ll eat you alive—blood, guts, and all.”
Still, she loves the art. The artists. That’s why she’s stuck with me. She believes in my talent.
She’s the one person in the world I trust the most.
So I bite back the tears. Screw Jaxon and his SUV—I’ll have Kat arrange for someone to return it today.
Anne taps the table. “I need to hear you say you got it.”
“Yeah,” I say, voice small. “I got it.”
She points at me. “Don’t do anything stupid. If he calls, don’t answer. If he texts, don’t answer. I have to fix this. Got that too?”
I nod.
She studies me like she’s still not sure she can trust me.
Then finally: “Hang in there, Zar.” She winks—and disappears like she’s off to fight a five-alarm fire.
I just sit there. Numb. Thinking.
We haven’t even touched the Blaine situation yet, but right now? That’s the lesser issue.
Blaine, I can ignore.
But Jaxon?
What the hell am I supposed to do about Jaxon?