An Invitation to Sin(6)

New phone. New number. And still he had no trouble contacting her.

She hesitated and then opened the text.

Good luck today. Enjoy Sicily.

Flinging the phone back in her bag, she rubbed her forehead with fingers  that shook. She felt as if she'd been dipped in iced water. He wasn't  wishing her luck, he was telling her that he knew exactly what she was  doing and where she was doing it.

She was never going to be rid of him. Never.

Knowing that she couldn't afford to think of him now, she took a deep  breath as the car slowed and shut off all those parts of herself she no  longer showed to the world. Maybe everyone at the wedding had been fake,  but she was the biggest fake of all. No one saw the real Taylor. She  hadn't even been sure she could access the real Taylor any more until  that moment in the maze with Luca.

Pushing that thought aside, she stepped out of the car, telling herself  that the media attention would die down after the first day of filming.

Her confidence lasted as long as it took her to notice the black  expression on the director's face. She'd assumed he was meeting her in  person out of courtesy and respect for her position on the movie, but  one look at his face told her that was a false assumption.

It was a struggle to keep her smile steady. ‘Sorry about the media circus. Hopefully they'll lose interest soon enough.'

‘Why would they lose interest when you are a never-ending source of  juicy stories?' His voice was cold. ‘Your brief was to create interest  in the movie, not in your personal life. The moment Santo told me he  wanted you on the project I knew it would be a disaster.'

‘Oh.' Shaken by that unwelcome news, Taylor spun a few more layers of  protection between her feelings and the world and kept it professional.  ‘I'd like to think you'd judge me on my performance now, not on  something that happened years ago.'

‘The whole world is judging you on your performance at the Corretti  wedding.' His face was scarlet with anger and for the first time Taylor  noticed the newspaper clutched in his hand.

‘The wedding never happened, but even I couldn't be blamed for that,  surely?' Confused, she eyed the newspaper. Did people even still buy  those things? If she ever wanted to glance at headlines she just used  her phone. ‘If you're worried about the fact the wedding didn't go  ahead, then don't be. I'm sure Santo Corretti will deal with it. The  publicity might even be good for the film.'

His mouth opened and closed. ‘"Good" that the movie-going public see you as a man-stealer?'

She looked at him blankly. ‘A what?'                       
       
           



       

‘Just in case you were too drunk to know what you were doing, you can read it for yourself.'

Taylor almost lost her balance as he thrust the paper at her. ‘I don't  drink. And I remember everything.' An image of Luca's handsome face  floated into her head and she pushed it away as she fumbled with the  newspaper.

‘Portia Bateman.' He enunciated every syllable. ‘Are you going to tell me that name doesn't mean anything to you?'

‘Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to tell you because it doesn't. I've  never heard of Portia Bateman.' Taylor's mind was working in slow  motion. Her fingers were clumsy as she unfolded the offending paper. ‘In  fact, I don't know a single person called Portia-' The words stuck in  her mouth as a snippet of conversation rose in her mind.

So who is this woman you're hiding from?

Apparently her name is Portia.

Driven by a horrible, awful suspicion, she shook her head. ‘Oh, no, no,  she can't have done that. I checked. I looked … ' She muttered the words  to herself but the director was watching her keenly.

‘So you do know someone called Portia.'

‘No, I don't! I've never even met her. She's just someone he … ' She  scanned the piece, saw the photograph of a tearful blonde woman under  the caption Exclusive-Taylor Carmichael Stole My Man. And there beneath  the caption was a photograph of her and Luca. His bronzed hand was  plastered against her bare thigh and they were kissing. Not just  kissing. Devouring each other. Passion was painted into every line of  the photo and she stared at it in dismay.

Her fingers gripped the paper.

The sounds faded around her.

Dizziness washed over her.

She'd congratulated herself on the fact that no paparazzi had caught her  moment of indiscretion. She'd forgotten that since the advent of camera  phones, everyone was a photographer. And this one had hit the jackpot.

Bathed in horror, Taylor closed her eyes. This couldn't be happening to  her. It just couldn't be. She couldn't think through the panic. ‘Why did  she wait a day to publish this?'

‘She says she offered Luca Corretti the chance to buy the photograph but  he just laughed and told her to go ahead and sell whatever story she  wanted to print. So she did. She sold her story to the highest bidder.'

He'd laughed?

Taylor felt cold.

What had she done?

The answer to that was nothing, but no one looking at this photograph  was going to believe that. She'd dropped her guard for a few moments,  that was all, and this was the result.

Keeping her expression neutral, she handed the newspaper back to the  glowering director. She wanted to wake up and start the day again. She  wanted to wind the clock back. She wanted to never have gone to that  damn wedding. Most of all she wanted to kick Luca Corretti in a place  that would ensure he'd never seduce a woman again.

‘I understand your concerns and I realise that the story looks bad, but  I'm asking you to trust me. This piece isn't-' how on earth could she  even begin to justify it in a way that would change his expression from  sour to sympathetic? ‘-accurate. Please judge me on my acting ability,  not the media circus that follows me.'

‘You think that pack of journalists are interested in your acting  ability? Your movie comeback is over before it began. Santo Corretti is  on his way here now and I can tell you he is not amused. After that  wedding fiasco he isn't in the best of moods as it is and this project  means a lot to him. He doesn't want it hijacked by your never-ending  need to grab the headlines.'

He wasn't interested in an explanation, Taylor thought numbly. The truth  wasn't going to help and a small part of her couldn't even blame him  for that because the picture did look incriminating. It had just been a  kiss. Other people kissed all the time and did a whole lot worse and no  one knew or cared. She slipped for one moment and the evidence was  plastered everywhere and she had her mother to thank for that. She'd  ensured the media had been fed a steady diet of Taylor Carmichael from  the first moment she'd stuck her child in front of the camera.

Taylor wondered if Luca had even seen the pictures.

He'd probably laugh, she thought bitterly. It wasn't his naked thigh  that was up there for the world to see. It wasn't his career that was  ruined. Even if the board refused to give him more responsibility, he  still had the fashion house. And anyway, he didn't appear to care what  the world thought of him. In fact, he seemed to behave in a way designed  to invite and encourage salacious headlines.                       
       
           



       

‘I can tell you that Luca Corretti isn't involved with that woman. It's a  kiss and tell. He rejected her and she's getting her revenge.'

‘So you're trying to tell me that picture is Photoshopped?'

‘No, but-'

‘It's not you he's kissing?'

‘Yes, it's me, but-'

‘It's not your dress that's ripped?'

‘The dress isn't ripped. The stitches came undone.' Feeling like a fox  with a pack of hungry hounds snapping at her heels, Taylor gritted her  teeth. ‘They sewed me into it which I knew was a stupid idea right from  the start.'

The director looked disgusted. ‘This story is everywhere. Tell me how  I'm supposed to deal with this. How am I supposed to focus on making  this movie when every single person on my set is looking at the bare  thigh of my leading lady and sniggering? Just being this close to you is  making me feel dirty.'

The whole world is going to know you're dirty, Taylor.

Her breathing grew shallow.

Anger burst free inside her. This was all Luca's fault. Because he  didn't care what people thought of him, he'd exposed her. He'd stripped  her, almost literally, with no thought to the consequences. If he hadn't  been so careless with that Portia woman's feelings, this would never  have happened.

‘The press have embellished this to make it look bad, but it isn't how it seems.'

‘The truth doesn't even matter.' The director made a hand gesture to  signify two minutes to someone over her shoulder. ‘I can't work in this  circus. You're off the movie.'