Unforgettable: Book Three (A Hollywood Love Story #3)(33)

“Just about everything.”

His twitchy eye flutters and his face tenses while I continue.

“Everything except my accident and the weeks leading up to it.”

He quirks a small smile and then takes another long draw of the cigarette. Tilting back his head, he blows a ribbon of smoke into the air. “That’s good, Brandon. It’s only a matter of time until you remember your history with Katrina.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to remember.”

My bold, unexpected words swirl around in my head. While I process them, Scott’s ruddy face turns ashen and his hand shakes as he lifts the cigarette again to his mouth. He takes another quick puff and then recovering, says with confidence, “C’mon, man. You two f*cking knocked it out of the ballpark.”

Okay, here goes. I take a deep breath and my gaze meets his twitchy eyes. “Scott, maybe you’ve never always leveled with me, but I’ve always leveled with you. I’m in love with someone else.”

“One of your former bimbos?” Contempt creeps into his voice. He’s hiding any sign of surprise well.

“No. Someone special. Someone you know.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t tell me it’s that smart-ass ex-assistant.”

I feel my blood pressure spike as I clench both my jaw and my hands. I swear if he says one more thing about Zoey’s ass, I’m going to knock out his fake teeth. It takes all I have to contain my temper.

“You know what happened in Cannes?” I venture.

Scott stabs the butt of the cigarette in the ashtray and hastily puts it out. “Of course, I know. Katrina told me everything. You were out of your f*cking mind.”

“No. She was out of her f*cking mind.” My voice is combative.

“She told me you assaulted her.”

Rage surges inside me. “You believed her?”

“I don’t know, but the press would have. You’re lucky she kept her big mouth shut.”


“Whose f*cking side are you on, Scott?”

“Yours.” He pauses. “Listen, Brandon. Let me level with you.”

My blood heats at his confrontational tone.

“Brand-man, you’re a brand… It’s in your name. Get it?”

Got it. Good. “Just get on with it.”

“Katrina is perfect for you. The public adores Bratrina. They can’t get enough of the two of you. They want a happily ever after.”

“What if I can’t deliver?”

Scott’s beady eyes narrow. “It’s simple. Your career is over. Trust me, I know her. She’s a f*cking loose cannon. She will go straight to the tabloids and smear your name everywhere—online, in print, and on TV. She showed me photos of what you did to her in Cannes. That gash was cringe-worthy.”

“She did it to herself with a piece of glass.”

“That’s not what she says. And now, there are red welts along with black and blue marks all over her back. I saw them for myself.”

I jolt. “What are you f*cking talking about? I’ve NEVER touched her. You’ve got to believe me!”

“Brandon, it doesn’t f*cking matter. What matters is she’s smart. She’s America’s It Girl. The public adores her. She’ll play it so she’s just a poor Cinderella—a victim of abuse, whether you assaulted her or not. When she shows the photos to TMZ and the handiwork of ‘your’ latest assault, everyone and their mother will despise Brandon Taylor. Kurt Kussler ratings will plummet; the show will get canceled, and your career will tank. Everything you’ve dreamed of—including one day winning an Oscar—will go down the f*cking drain. And that’s the best possible scenario. I wouldn’t put it past her to go to the authorities and press charges. She’ll put you behind bars.” He pauses and our eyes clash, his dark and full of spite. “Do you understand what I’m saying? Are you getting the picture yet?”

My stomach in knots, I nod silently. He’s just reiterated Blake Burns’s sentiments but made them a far more ugly and impending reality. Yes, everything’s on the line. The psychopath is holding a knife to my heart. Fucking, f*cking Katrina.

My manager flashes a smarmy smile. “Good. Now, look at the bright side. You can always divorce her. You know, for irreconcilable differences.”

“She’d be open to that?”

“Totally. She’s even told me herself.”

My mind spins. “I need to get a pre-nup by tomorrow.”

Scott chortles. “C’mon, Brandon. Get real. No lawyer can do that.”

He’s right. I absorb his words and do the math. If we divorce, she’ll be entitled to half of my fortune. But truthfully, five hundred million dollars may be a small price to pay for happiness. And true love. Zoey’s adorable face flashes into my head. She’s worth every penny. If only she’ll take me back. There’s no guarantee. Scott once again cuts into my thoughts.

“I personally know one of the top divorce lawyers in town. He handled Katy Perry and Russell Brand’s divorce among others. He can make yours happen as fast…even faster.”

“How fast?”

Scott snaps his nicotine-stained fingers. “Like that.”

“Send me his name.”

Scott grins. “Will do. Now, get ready for the rehearsal.”