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"You don't want to go downtown." He shakes his head. "Mug shots are the press’s dream come true."

"Martin Luther King, Jr.'s mug shot was a badge of honor. I'll take the punishment society deals me."

"I can tell you what punishment society will deal you. You’ll be a tabloid sensation for months to come, crowding the Kardashians and their ilk off the covers of all those magazines. An object of sympathy perhaps, but too identified with the gaudy events of this evening to ever resume a respectable acting career."

A shiver runs over me at his words. Suddenly the cool tile is a frozen block, the thin scrubs porous. I stand on an iceberg deep in the arctic. I am alone and in danger. Temperance is a passing boat, a boat that’s on fire. Leap into the raging flames or stay on the ice?

Temperance takes a step toward me, his eyes warm in that stony face.I am your friend, they say.

"I promise you, I swear"—he looks up at the ceiling, toward the heavens—"I will take care of you." His eyes meet mine. There is that sincerity again, so hard to fake unless you know how.

"I want to talk to Mary, my agent," I insist.

"I can't let you do that. You can't tell anyone about me or about what happened here tonight."

"Secrets are the weights which sink us."

He steps closer. There are only a few feet between us now. Archie lets out a soft snore, exhausted from the evening’s excitement. The sound reminds my own body of its need for sleep, and its as if a lead blanket is thrown over my shoulders. I grit my teeth to keep from slumping under the weight.

"You're sitting at the bottom of the ocean, and you’re worrying about sinking?" Temperance asks.

"You can always sink lower."

"Not if you grab the life raft I'm throwing you."

"It might be an anchor."

"It's not."

"I can't trust you." I stick my chin out again, but my exhaustion doesn't let it go very high. The weight of the water above me is so heavy.

Temperance’s lips remain firm. "I admire your fortitude in this moment. But I want you to understand that I will take care of you. I will take care of everything. You will get roles, and you will be safe."

"My grandmother warned me about men who promised me the world."

"Is that what Jack did?"

I shake my head. "He offered me a drink." I take a deep breath. "You’re asking me to follow you blindly."

"I'm not asking." His voice is low—gentle—but his meaning is clear.You have no choice."I'll take you home now; you can sleep. We can talk in the morning. If you don't want to work with me—don't want to serve your country—then we can discuss that once the sun is up.”

I glance toward the windows. They reflect the kitchen back to me—a clean, orderly space. "What time is it?"

"Three o'clock."

"I'm supposed to be on set at 7:30 a.m."

"You don't want to be late." Temperance doesn't move to touch me, but I can almost sense his hand on my elbow. He's smart not to take it. I'd jerk away. His stillness is a much more powerful motivator.

And he's right; I don't want to be late. But I also don't want Jack to be dead. I don’t want his blood on my hands and the mess that’s sure to follow.

"You won’t take no for an answer?” My gaze is still stuck on the kitchen window reflecting back the glistening counters.

"You are better off that I don't. You deserve better than what Jack did to you, better than what this evening would turn into without my interference."

"Do I?" My eyes are drawn to his. "How would you know?"

Those dark, jewel eyes hold me. "I know a lot about you. That's part ofmyjob."