All the Feels (Spoiler Alert #2)(93)

There. Decision made.

With a nod toward her oblivious tablemates, she gathered her purse and followed Zach through the ballroom’s side exit, down a long hallway, and toward an elegant seating area in the hotel lobby, positioned discreetly behind some flourishing plants.

Once they were seated, Zach didn’t waste any time.

“Overnight, Alex received an offer from StreamUs for a travel reality show. Good money. No restrictions on what he can say or where he goes.” His blue eyes pinned her in place. “Did he tell you?”

She shook her head, caught between exultation—because holy crap, that job offer sounded custom-made for Alex—and confusion.

Why was Zach telling her this? And why hadn’t Alex?

Zach leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “They want him to have a companion. A cohost. Someone to bounce off of and banter with.”

She closed her eyes for a moment.

Oh. Oh, no. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t possibly have—

“He said he wanted you or no one,” Zach told her. “And the offer requires a cohost with a preexisting fanbase, so StreamUs won’t accept you in that role. If he digs in his heels, they’ll rescind the offer, and he doesn’t have any others. I don’t know if he’ll get any others, to be frank. So I decided to talk with you privately and ask whether this is something you truly want too, or whether it’s Alex making assumptions and getting tunnel vision.”

She figured Zach’s explanation was eliding certain other truths—notably, how the service had probably reacted to her appearance—but it sounded honest enough.

It sounded exactly like Alex. The best of him, and also the worst.

Because yes, of course she was touched that he wanted her by his side. Of course his consistent advocacy for her, his belief in her, warmed her to her bones.

But what the hell was he thinking?

He might deny it, but he certainly wasn’t thinking about her.

She wasn’t an actor. She wasn’t a reality television star.

More important, she didn’t want to be either. She wanted to be a damn therapist. Where and how, she hadn’t yet determined, but a brush with fame hadn’t changed her training or her calling. And if he’d bothered to ask her, if he’d bothered to explain, she would have told him exactly that.

They would definitely be talking tonight. Her end of the conversation might involve a little yelling, but holy crap. He needed to quit being so damn presumptuous.

The good news: This problem had a simple solution.

“I absolutely, positively don’t want to be on the show, as I’ll inform him as soon as the reception ends. I’m sure you can easily find someone else.” She stood, teetering momentarily on her wedge heels. “I wish you both successful negotiations.”

If Alex hadn’t already gone searching for her, he would soon, and he’d be alarmed to find her gone. She needed to get back before her absence caused any disruption.

Zach held up a hand. “Wait. Lauren, there’s more.”

Well, shit.

She dropped back into her chair. “What?”

“If you refuse, he will too.” The agent’s blue eyes were solemn. “He doesn’t want to travel the country without you.”

No. No.

She stared at Zach, aghast. “He didn’t. Please tell me he didn’t say that.”

Her stomach twisted in revolt at the very thought, because she couldn’t. She couldn’t be responsible for Alex losing his career a second time.

The guilt would destroy her. Destroy them.

“He did.” Zach met her gaze directly, without any signs of prevarication. “Lauren, from everything Alex has said and everything I’ve seen, you care about him. You want what’s best for him, and I genuinely believe this is his last chance. If he doesn’t take this job, his career is over. And StreamUs wants a decision soon. Tonight, if possible.”

Oh, shit.

At the realization of what this conversation was really about, what Alex’s agent was really asking her, she hunched over on herself and tried to keep breathing through the nausea.

Zach spoke carefully. Clearly. “The role is perfect for him, and with the way he spends, he doesn’t have a ton of savings. He needs the money. For himself, but also his mom and his charity and all the other people he helps.”

I imagine Alex’s agent needs the money too, a spiteful, petty part of her brain added, but she ignored it, because Zach was right. Not being able to support everyone would gut Alex.

It would, in fact, leave him feeling the same way she did right now, as she waited for the inevitable.

Zach didn’t make her wait long.

“If you’re in his life, he won’t take this role.” The agent didn’t sound happy about it, but he didn’t flinch or sugarcoat the issue. “Is what you have with him worth his career?”

The hurt pierced through all those layers of composure, all that calm she’d painstakingly acquired and used to shield her heart for decades, and she couldn’t muffle her sob.

The agent reached out to her, and she flinched back.

He withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry. But I had to say it, because Alex never would.”

Zach had known his client for almost the entirety of their careers, and it showed. He understood Alex, and she did too.