One is a journalist who writes about movie stars. The other is a movie star who hates journalists. Now their worlds are colliding.
Reagan Porter is a small town journalist married, in every sense of the word, to her work. When everything that could...
Violetta and I jumped away from each other, like two teenagers caught in a dark corner of a high school hallway.
"Is what true?" she asked innocently.
"The article. You denied it on the phone and yet—"
"Oh, give it a rest, Baxter. Just because I have physical touch with someone doesn't mean it's always something more." Violetta pinched the bridge of her nose. "Reagan shouldn't have to deal with this. Hell, I shouldn't have to deal with this."
"So what do you want to do about it?" Baxter asked, glancing between us.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, suddenly aware that I still had not put on any pants. And it was always a good idea to be fully-clothed when being yelled at for potentially starting the next biggest scandal in the celebrity world.
Violetta let out an exasperated sigh. "I want to live my life without being scared of some asshole with a camera." She stood up, her shirt still unbuttoned and flapping behind her. "This is my life, and I get to dictate what people know and don't know. We have no comment to the paparazzi."
"Well the two of you certainly shouldn't be seen out together—"
"Why not?" Violetta whirled on Baxter, and I thought the man was going to faint. Violetta was nothing if not feisty.
"Be-because, well, um," he stuttered.
"Get out, Baxter," she growled. "We will talk about this later." Violetta practically pushed him out the door.
"Don't forget you have a photoshoot today at—"
Slam! The vibrations of the door shook the hotel room.
"Ugh!" Violetta clutched at her hair with her fingers. "I am so sorry, Reagan. He just came in here and started accusing us and I just—I just—"
"Hey." I clamped my hands down on her shoulders. "Breathe, Vi. It's okay. He's an asshole, and you're right. You deserve to tell the world when you're ready. Or not. It's up to you, not him."
She sighed, dropping her head to my shoulder. "Thank you. You are too good to me, you know that?"
"I don't know about that," I said, chuckling. It was kind of her to say, but it felt a little exaggerated. Surely she was just being nice.
You're too modest, Reags, Mari used to say. Accept the compliment.
"No, I'm serious." Violetta picked up her head. "We've known each other, what? Three days? None of my friends would ever do what you've done for me, Rea. None of them."
"I appreciate the flattery, but it really was nothing." I walked over to my suitcase, finally grabbing a pair of pants and a sweater for the day. "Where do you want to go today?"
Violetta grinned. Her composure regained, she radiated more confidence and excitement than I'd seen since last night. "You'll see."
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