The Game (Wagered Hearts Series, #3)(21)

At first, the questions were innocent enough, but after the third event where he was a no show, people started to talk. I laughed it off like it didn't bother me, but when pictures surfaced of him out in New York with some mysterious redhead, the vultures came out in full force.

After the first pictures came out, I called Rob, furious at him for humiliating me. I threatened to sue him for breach of contract. But leave it to him to have a reasonable and rational explanation for it all. The redhead was a business associate, and since there was nothing remotely sexual going on with them, he had not in fact breached his contract. It never stated in his contract that he couldn't be seen with other women.

I had to settle for that answer. Still, it annoyed me that he was out in New York living his life, while I was out here dealing with all the publicity. It was foolish of me. Deep down, I knew that. I was the movie star after all. I'd always wanted to be famous and now I got it.

Rob never asked to be thrust into the spotlight. He just needed a fiancée to keep his mother off his back, whereas I needed one to stave off bad publicity. So it was only fitting that I be the one who had to bear the brunt of press duties. Rationally, I knew all this. But I didn't want to be rational. I wanted to be mad and feel put upon.

Candy grabbed my hand and pulled it toward her so she could get a better look at the ring. I hadn't been expecting her to do that, since she didn't ask, so it was a stroke of luck that I didn't slap her hand away as was my natural instinct. Instead, I smiled politely and tried to sound modest when describing the ring.

"Oooh it's so pretty," she said. "How many carats is it?"

"I'm not sure," I shrugged.

"Did you help him pick it out or is it custom made? It looks very unique."

"It's a family heirloom," I answered.

"Oh, how romantic!" she gushed. "You're so lucky!"

"Thanks," I said.

Candy cut to a commercial break and the interview was thankfully over after that. I pulled off my mic pack and walked toward the dressing room. Arnie and Charlotte were there waiting for me along with one of the PA's.

"You were great out there," Arnie said once I stepped into the room.

I waited until the PA left before I spoke. "Why did you book me on this show again?" I asked shutting the door behind me.

They both looked at me like they were talking to a child. "You know the Golden Globe nomination announcements are in one month. We need to get your name out there so you'll be on people's minds when they make the decision," he said.

"Does that even work?" I asked skeptically.

"It certainly doesn't hurt," he said.

"Not you. You're not the one having to sit through these mind numbing interviews, answering the same stupid questions again and again. I swear if someone else calls me Lady Emilia, or asks me what Rob thinks of this or that, I'm going to snap."

"Speaking of Rob, you need to have a talk with him," Charlotte added ominously.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I suddenly felt a dread forming in the pit of my stomach. Whenever Charlotte looked at me like that, with her arms crossed over her chest, and her voice stern and humorless, I knew something was wrong.

"Look at this," she said, handing me her phone.

On the screen, she had pulled up the webpage of the Daily Inquirer. Right on the front page was Rob with his arm around another woman. This one was young and blonde. Bottle blonde, I thought spitefully. Her roots were showing. I wondered what excuse he would use to try to explain away this picture. Then I thought idly if I'd look good as a blonde, and immediately hated myself for it.

The picture was a little blurry, with a haze of colorful strobe lights in the background and a mist of smoke, like he was in a club. His face was red and I could see a sheen of sweat on his skin, soaking through his white dress shirt. He had on a goofy drunk smile.

I stared at the picture for a long time, feeling the anger and irritation rise within me. Business associate my ass! I wanted to call him and tear him a new one. I took out my phone ready to dial his number, but Charlotte grabbed it out of my hand before I could make the call.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snapped.

"Saving you from making a mistake," she answered calmly. "The last thing you need to do is to call him while you're still angry. You'll probably just piss him off, and then he'll want to walk out of the contract, and then we'll really be in a bind."

"Fuck that. He's already broken the contract. Did you see the picture? He's humiliating me in front of the world!" I shouted.

"Calm down and stop being so dramatic. Yes, it's a stupid and thoughtless thing to do, but it's not the end of the world. The picture just shows them at a club together. There's nothing more incriminating than that," she reasoned. "I'm sure Arnie can spin the story so it is all innocent."

"He's got his arm around her shoulder and he's drunk," I said petulantly.

Charlotte eyed me curiously and pursed her lips. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous," she said.

I blew out a snort and waved it off. "Please. There's nothing to be jealous of. I'm just pissed that he's gone back on his word. He's basically made me a laughing stock," I said.