The Game (Wagered Hearts Series, #3)(56)

"It would only dredge all that back up again," he had explained a few days after I arrived back in LA.

"Arnie's right," Charlotte agreed.

"Let's leave the past in the past. You've got to be humble, and gracious, and act like you've learned your lesson," Arnie added.

I bristled at the thought. It made me sound like some disobedient child asking for forgiveness from the same people who had been so gleefully happy to throw me to the wolves. Even though I had learned a lesson, my biggest lesson was that I couldn't trust anyone, especially them.

"At least wait until the award season is over. We don't want any hint of another scandal or rumor attached to your name," Charlotte had said.

I agreed with them at the time. Maybe it was best to wait it out. I had enough on my plate as it was, without having to add all the baggage with Rob on top of it.

With the exception of going to Charlotte's office and a quick run to the pharmacy, I'd been stuck at my house since arriving back in LA. The paparazzi were waiting outside my gates just lying in wait for me, and I'd been so stubborn trying to wait them out. A few of them got discouraged and left, but there were still enough of them out there that would make any type of trip a hassle.

My salvation came in the form of a prostitution ring. On the third day of myself imposed imprisonment, news broke about a high powered Hollywood madam who'd gotten busted for running an escort service. Her clients were the crème de la crème of Hollywood--high powered studio execs, directors, and even some major A-list actors. And she was talking--singing like a canary actually. Her little black book had just been leaked and people were in a frenzy. Just like that I was old news.

For that I was grateful. Maybe a year ago, I would have had misgivings about being completely overshadowed by someone else, but I'd had enough publicity over the past few months to last me a lifetime. Once the last paparazzo left my street, I breathed a sigh of relief. I grabbed my purse and hopped into my car, itching to finally get out of my house.

What I really needed was a trip to the salon. My hair and nails were a hot mess. I phoned up Reya, my stylist, for an appointment. I'd known her since my modeling days, and she recently opened up a salon in Long Beach of all places.

As I pulled out past my gate, I noticed a black Mercedes following me. At first I thought it was a neighbor, but as I entered the freeway, the car was hot on my heels. I decided to take a different exit to put them off my trail, but they remained close by.

I could've cursed out loud. In fact, I did. How wrong I'd been to think I could have one moment of privacy without these paparazzi sticking their cameras up in my face, and shouting rude and inane remarks at me as I tried to go about my day. My temper was reaching a boiling point, and I understood how other celebs could lose their cool and get physical with them. I was halfway there myself.

I pulled over my car in a strip mall parking lot and waited. The black Mercedes parked behind me and I got out of my car. If they wanted to get up close and personal, I'd give them what they asked for.

The driver's face was hidden by the dark sunglasses and baseball cap he was wearing. As I made my way toward the car, the driver side door opened and I had to stop in my tracks. The last person I expected to see was standing right in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I came to see you," he said. Rob looked like he was going to walk closer, but I held up my hand to stop him.

"How long have you been waiting outside my house?" I asked.

"Not long," he said. "I just arrived in LA a couple of days ago."

I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Did that mean he'd been waiting outside since he got here? I didn't ask the question, though. There were more pressing matters on my mind. I'd forgotten how tall he was, or how broad his shoulders were. His face was still partially hidden underneath the shades, but he had that perpetual five o'clock shadow, and that irresistible cleft in his chin.

"What do you want?" I asked.

He hesitated a moment and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking nervous and unsure of himself. "I wanted to talk to you. I...there's...do you mind if we go somewhere to talk? Can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?" he asked.

I looked around us at the shops in the strip mall plaza. There was a nail salon, a Polish deli, an urgent care doctor's office, and a small diner.

"Let's go," I said, making my way toward the diner. It was as good of a place as any to have this discussion. After making a quick survey of our surroundings, I didn't see one suspicious car, or anyone with any camera equipment around. This area wasn't exactly celeb sighting central, so we were left in relative peace.

The diner was mostly empty except for a couple of tables near the front filled with elderly couples, and one table in the back with a group of three boys who looked like they were in their teens. They were too engrossed in their cell phones and took no notice of us as we walked in.

We seated ourselves at a booth away from the other diners. I slid into the plastic vinyl bench and had to smile at the look of distress on Rob's face as he took a look around him. I was willing to bet he'd never been to a place like this before. It wasn't his typical Michelin star restaurant.

The waitress came a few minutes later to take our orders. When we both ordered coffees she seemed annoyed, like we were wasting her time, but didn't say anything. She just snapped her gum and walked away, scooping up the menus with her.