Page 93 of Baxter's Right-Hand Man

Holy crap.

That was me.

Iwas the headline.

Cold dread trickled down my spine as I read.

Trending in the US, trending in entertainment, trending news:

#LorenzoRamos #PierceAllenBoyfriend #PierceJiltsDaphne #DaphneMcAdams

Unbelievably, I was number one.

I clicked a tab with shaky fingers to the so-called news.

“Pierce Allen was seen in Carmel with a new man, and things looked pretty heated! The A-lister and mega movie star of the Baxter Chronicles smash hit franchise was thought to be in a relationship with actress and podcast personality, Daphne McAdams, but the manager of a retail home goods store has caught Pierce’s eye. Sources say the two were spotted…”

“Oh. My. God,” I whispered.

And then the photos: Pierce and I kissing near my car, Pierce and I waiting for our lattes in Carmel, me in the store window of BGoods, me picking up my dry-cleaning, me leaving the gym looking decidedly sweaty and unattractive. I made a mental note to update my workout gear, gasping at a photo of Tony and I hugging outside the coffee shop with a new headline: “Pierce Has LAPD Competition.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Okay, breathe.

I turned off my cell and looked up at the posse of teenagers clandestinely snapping photos of me. I had to get out of here. Now.

“What’s wrong?” Bran asked, reaching for his lip balm.

“Uh…I have to go.”

He paused mid balm application and narrowed his eyes. “Lo? Honey, what is it?”

“Something didn’t agree with me,” I lied. “I’ll call you later.”

“Lo!”

I hurried to the storage room, grabbed my man-bag, and raced to my car as if I had an assassin on my tail. I instinctively headed for home, but that didn’t feel safe. My voice shook as I instructed Siri to call Pierce.

He didn’t answer. Now what?

I made a left on La Brea, chewing my bottom lip raw as I plotted my next move—and came up empty just as my cell rang.

“Oh, thank God. Did you see the—”

“Yeah, I saw,” Pierce replied. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I’m just…driving. I’m afraid to go home, and I couldn’t stay at the store and—”

“Meet me at my house.”

I barked a humorless laugh. “No way. There’s probably an army of paparazzi out there. Did you see that photo of Tony and me? I’djustmet him. Geez, he was wearing his uniform. Are they going to drag him into something? That’s not okay. None of this is okay.”

“Baby, relax. Please.”

I took a deep breath. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m leaving the studio now. Meet me at—”