“No.” VJ shook her head and frowned. She shouldn’t have said that. No one had even mentioned anything about an engagement. Except VJ. “I didn’t mean for any of this to come across as bad.”
“Comes with the territory. Don’t shack up with celebrities if you can’t take the heat,” Rebecca advised with a condescending head tilt.
“This interview is over.” VJ whirled and scurried to her lounger, but the pool wasn’t a sanctuary any longer. All of this because she was chasing a happily-ever-after with Kris that was still a happily-right-now. She snatched her bag from the adjacent lounger and blew past Rebecca’s prying eyes to go back to the room.
By the time Kris got back from his meeting, she’d curled up in a ball on the couch and cried all the tears her body could produce.
He dashed into the room, tossed his phone on the coffee table and gathered her up in his arms. “I’m sorry.”
Which left no doubt he’d either seen or heard about her newfound notoriety. This was so not what she signed up for. Casual sex, trading off men with celebrities. Media scandals. None of that had been on her mind when she got into the Ferrari.
“They think I’m evil,” she said.
Kris’s phone buzzed against the coffee table but he ignored it.
“What can I do?” he asked softly and stroked the back of her head.
“I don’t know. None of this is your fault. I feel like the villainess in a soap opera.”
The phone buzzed again.
“Answer it. Please,” VJ said and jumped up. “I’ll be fine. I’m taking a shower. By myself.”
His eyes tracked her as she stepped away from the couch, but he didn’t try to stop her. “Okay.”
She stood under the spray for what seemed like hours and still couldn’t eliminate the oily feel to her skin. If it had been a sleazy tabloid, that she could have shrugged off. Maybe. But Rebecca the Reporter was from a local TV station and had gotten a stellar scoop by locating VJ at the Dragonfly.
When she trudged back into the main living area of the suite she slammed into the wall of Kris’s mood. The atmosphere had changed like a squall line tumbling over the mountains, about to let loose a toad-strangler of a storm.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He paced a mad trail along the carpet behind the couch, turning sharply before he hit the wall. A black band held his hair in place at his collar but it was a jumbled mess and Kris was never a mess.
“Why is your hair tied up?”
“It was irritating me.” And back to pacing. “I’m trying to calm down. That’s what’s wrong.”
Instinct told her she shouldn’t press him when he was this upset, but what should she do? She couldn’t sit quietly when agitation hung in the air so thick she almost needed snorkeling gear. But neither could she hide in the bedroom, away from the force of his distress on a day when so much had already gone wrong. “Is there another news story circulating about how I’m the love child of Satan and used a voodoo spell to make you break up with Kyla?”
“Not quite.” He whirled and faced her, arms stiff at his sides. Unapproachable, like he’d been at the club. “There is this one circulating where you informed the media the engagement was a publicity stunt. You know. The one thing I asked you not to tell anyone.”
Her eyelids flew shut, and she struggled to breathe. He had asked her not to say anything but she’d forgotten that.
“I’m sorry. So sorry. It slipped out. I was so upset about all the horrible things people were saying. Are you mad?”
“Mad.” Wearily, he weaved to the carpet and rested his forehead on the tips of his fingers. “Mad. At you? No, I’m not.”
“What are you, then?”
“One more statement to the press shy of losing my career,” he said with a short laugh and it crawled across her chest with sharp needles.
Losing his career? Not the film and only the film? “What does that mean?”
“What it sounds like. My executive producer called, and he’s a little unhappy about news coverage, which is the exact opposite of the agreed direction for Visions of Black’s publicity. He’s threatening breach of contract. No one will work with me if that happens.”
“But you’re not mad?” she asked cautiously.
“I’m not happy. The engagement wasn’t going to happen regardless, but I haven’t had a chance to figure out an alternative. I needed that time. Kyla is beyond furious. It took me fifteen minutes to calm her down long enough to coherently explain to me what you’d done.”
“That’s who was calling. Before I got in the shower.”