Wicked Heart (Starcrossed #3)(74)

“How can we be sure she won’t talk?” Mary asks. “Liam, if you give us her name, we can work out some sort of deal to keep her quiet.”

“No,” Liam says, roughly. “She’s not interested in any of that.”

“How do you know? We can draw up a confidentiality agreement. Legally gag her.”

Liam shakes his head. “I can barely remember her face, Mary, let alone her name.” Now he glances at me. “She won’t come forward. Trust me.”

I clench my jaw to stop from screaming at him. “Trust me”? Never again, asshole.

“The woman isn’t part of our strategy,” Anthony says. “In a few hours the media frenzy will have reached fever pitch, so we’ll need Angeliam to go on television and make a joint statement.” Anthony passes Liam a printed speech. “Liam, you’re going to say you suffered a moment of weakness. You were nervous about the wedding, but you love your fiancée and deeply regret hurting her in any way. You will be on the verge of tears the whole time and hold your fiancée’s hand like it’s made of precious crystal, understand? Angel, you will stand beside your man and support him. When he’s finished, you will hug him and whisper words of forgiveness. We will manage this disaster with the military precision of the goddamn National Guard. Don’t forget, there’s no scandal so bad it can’t be spun into something good. Except of course if you murder someone or get caught kicking puppies, in which case, you’re screwed. But short of that, anything can be turned into promotional gold. We’ll get through this.”

He keeps talking. Mary chimes in with her opinion. When Marco worries that the backers for the show will pull out, Mary reassures him that this kind of viral exposure will triple ticket sales.

I just keep staring at the pictures and try not to let everyone see how my emotions are strangling me.

So, all that talk about being with me was bullshit. Why do I even bother hoping anymore? It’s pointless.

Here I was dreaming about being Liam’s girlfriend. Instead, I’m a regret. A stupid, nameless, shameful mistake.


“For the love of God, we blocked this last week!” Marco glares at the actors. “Why the hell are you all in the wrong positions?! Where are your brains, people?”

Since the meeting, everyone’s been on edge. The rest of the cast found out about the scandal when the magazine hit the streets an hour ago, and we’ve been bombarded by phone calls and weeping fans ever since. Down in the street, I can still hear them wailing in disbelief.

“They can’t end like this! Their love is eternal! I can’t believe Liam would do that. The slut must have made him.”

I grind my teeth, and Josh gently touches my leg beneath the table. “This will blow over. Just give it time.”

I nod tightly and write notes on my script. “Yep.”

He hasn’t said anything, but he knows it’s me in those pictures. I can feel his disappointment like a vibration in the air. I’ve been a lot of things over the years, but never the other woman. His affection for Angel makes it even worse. I know he wants to be on my side, but how can he be? I’m the one in the wrong.

“Let’s reset please, everyone,” I say. “From the top of this scene once more.”

Liam looks over at me. I studiously ignore him. In the light of today’s drama, the pressure for me to be objective and professional is higher than ever. The cast needs to be reassured that as far as the show goes, everything’s under control. It’s the old duck illusion: No matter how frantically the legs are paddling below the water, we need people to see us gliding along with serene grace.

“No, Liam! Downstage, dammit! Downstage!” It seems Marco didn’t get my memo about the duck thing. “Downstage is forward. Upstage is back. Do I need to remind you of basic stagecraft, man?”

I put my hand on Marco’s arm and whisper, “Please breathe.”

Marco pinches the bridge of his nose. Both Liam and Angel are off their games, but Liam’s definitely the worse off of the two. There’s also an air of resentment from the rest of the cast that he’s dropped us all in shit. In my case, the resentment is well-founded.

“Sorry,” Liam says. He glances over at me, and I look away.

He doesn’t even deserve eye contact.

For the rest of the day, I double-check earlier than usual that all cast members are set for their cues. The last thing I need is for Marco’s patience to wear any thinner. Every time I go near Liam, my emotions flare, but I force them down and get on with things.

“Stand by for your entrance, Mr. Quinn. Don’t forget to exit downstage left after ‘It shall be what o’clock I say it is.’”

“Liss . . .” He leans down to talk to me, but I cross to the other side of the room to cue Angel.

Poor Angel looks as bad as I feel. Of course, knowing I’m responsible for her misery makes me feel even worse. I’ve been on the receiving end of this kind of hurt so many times, you’d think it would suck less being the perpetrator and not the victim, but it doesn’t.

“You okay?” I whisper.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry.” For lots of things.

She shakes her head and stares at Liam, who’s just entered the scene. “I thought we were always honest with each other. But this . . . My whole family is mortified. My father didn’t come out and say it, but I’m pretty sure he thinks all this happened because I’m an idiot who can’t keep her man satisfied.”