Chapter 2
"The money from Alex's studio never came through," Jenny said.
"Use my personal account," I told her.
"There's... nothing there either."
Memories came flooding back. Alex's last-minute demands to change his styling, upgrade the lighting, and expand the venues for the tour. All those extra costs had come out of my own pocket.
Alex really went for the kill.
I tilted my head back, chugging the champagne so fast it burned my throat and brought tears to my eyes.
Why, Alex? Why did he do this to me?
I gave him everything to make him a star, and he turned around and stabbed me in the back like a snake in the grass.
After a few days of drowning my sorrows in alcohol, Charles Ford dragged me out of my home.
"That Alex is a lowlife, pulling the rug out from under you. I bet you never even got back the money you poured into him," he said.
"More than that," I muttered.
"So, what are you gonna do now?" Charles asked.
"Guess I'll just lay low for a while," I replied. No way I was telling him about the debt. If Charles found out, he'd probably go ballistic.
"Lay low? Come on." Charles clicked his tongue. "You know how this business is. Out of sight, out of mind. If you disappear for three months, nobody will even remember your name."
He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Look, I've got a script. The second male lead is still up for grabs, and it's a good role. If you've got any talent in your stable, bring 'em over."
"I don't," I said, defeated.
"Olivia, you're too damn loyal. Name one other agency that only manages one artist. Only you." He shook his head, then grinned. "Here's a deal: I've got a diamond in the rough. Help me sign him?"
"Who?" I asked, perking up slightly.
"Look over there," Charles said, pointing toward the corner of the bar.
I looked over. A perfectly structured side profile caught my eye.
It was Evan Grant, Alex's arch-nemesis.
Back in the day, I'd trashed him left and right to boost Alex's career.
I took a deep breath, downing my whiskey in one gulp.
Ignoring Charles' thumbs-up, I marched straight toward Evan.
Just as I reached him, my legs went weak—I'd had too much to drink—and I stumbled forward, crashing into him.
Evan pushed me away instantly, but when he saw my face, he grabbed my arm to steady me. "Ms. Quinn?" he said, his voice cold.
I squinted, feigning intoxication. "W-Who are you?"
"The guy you spent years trashing," he retorted.
I knew Evan hated me, and rightfully so.
But I couldn't let him go; he was my only chance to bounce back.
"Then will you give me a chance to make it up to you?" I asked, my voice softening.
Evan's eyes narrowed. He pulled me close, his face inches from mine. "How do you plan to make it up to me, Ms. Quinn? With yourself?"
What else did I have to offer? I nodded slowly.
"Good. Tomorrow, Tranquility Café. Noon," he smiled, a dangerous, mischievous curve of his lips.
The next day, I arrived at the café right on time.
Evan was standing by the window, his back to the door, staring outside.
He turned when he heard the bell jingle.
Dressed in a simple gray sweater, he was striking, like a painting come to life, born to be in front of the camera.
"Liv," he said, the word catching me off guard.
I froze for a second, then recovered.
"Have a seat." Evan gestured to the chair across from him.
"Why would someone like you be interested in a washed-up artist like me?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed.
"You're not washed up. You're being held back," I said, sliding the folder I'd prepared across the table.
His eyes fell on the folder's cover.
"Starlight Media, Mr. Ford's company?" he asked.
"I'll have full creative control," I assured him. But only if I signed him. Only then could I get a stake in Charles' company.
"Doing this to get back at Alex?" he asked.
"Doing this to make you a star," I said.
Evan finally picked up the folder, flipping through the pages as I sipped my coffee.
When he finished, he closed it and looked up. "Still as confident as ever, Liv."
"Alex's talent pales in comparison to yours. I turned him into an A-lister. You? You're a natural. I have no doubt I can do the same for you," I said.
"A natural? If you'd met me first, would you have chosen me instead of him?"
"In a heartbeat," I said, no hesitation in my voice.
I raised my coffee cup. "Evan, let's put the past behind us. Here's to a fresh start."
He lifted his own cup, his smile playful. "Liv, I'm not as forgiving as you think..."