by Melody Grace
She gave a smile to Aunt June and Debra, already gossiping in the corner. They shot her faint smiles in response, then immediately bent their heads together to chat in low voices about whatever Sweetbriar scandal was happening this week. A dispute over somebody’s dog mess, perhaps, or maybe a thrilling parking ticket. Lila grinned as she reached the counter, enjoying the low stakes of small-town life.
“Hey,” she greeted Summer.
“What are you doing here?” Summer looked surprised. “I mean, I ate so much last night, I swear I won’t touch another morsel until next week. Well, noon,” she corrected herself with a smile.
Lila laughed. “I know, but I’ve worked it off.”
“Oh yeah?” Summer smirked.
“I meant on the walk over!” Lila said, blushing. And other activities, too, but she wasn’t about to detail them here.
Summer grinned. “Say no more. Tea, and buns?”
“Yes please,” Lila replied. She was just reaching for her purse when the door flew open with another ding! and Brooke came bursting in.
“Lila!” she exclaimed, looking breathless. “I tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I left my cellphone at the cottage,” Lila replied, confused. “What’s up?”
Brooke looked around, and then grabbed Lila’s arm and started dragging her towards the kitchen.
“Brooke!” Lila protested, but she didn’t stop until they were in the back, away from the rest of the bakery. Lila shook free. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?!”
“Yes, what’s going on?” Summer joined them, frowning.
Brooke swallowed. “Have you been online today?” she asked.
Lila shook her head. The hairs on the back of her neck were already standing on end, like her body knew something bad was coming. “No, why? What happened? Did Justin give an interview?” she asked, bracing herself for another blast from the past.
But Brooke pulled out her cellphone. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but . . .”
She reluctantly held out the screen to Lila, and suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her. At least, that’s how it felt. Because staring back at her was a photo of herself, taken with some kind of long-range camera. She was straddling a man, her skirt pushed up around her thighs and her head tipped back in ecstasy.
It was Lila and Griffin, in the garden.
Last night.
Lila’s stomach dropped. She gripped the phone. “Where did you get this?” she asked in a whisper.
“It’s all over the internet,” Brooke said, looking anxious. “And it’s not the only one. There are other photos too. More . . . umm, personal ones.”
Lila scrolled through, blood pounding in her ears. Please, no . . .
But they had everything, in hi-res, ultra-def glory. The kissing, the touching, and . . . more. The photographer must have been staked out in the bushes on the edge of the property, and even had shots through the windows of Lila and Griffin heading upstairs to the bedroom. Hell, flip through them fast enough, and it was as good as a sex tape.
Lila was sick to her stomach.
“I am so, so sorry,” Brooke gulped, looking distressed. “I can’t believe anyone would do this.”
“Bottom-feeding, scum-sucking assholes!” Summer agreed, furious. “How is this even legal? You were in your own home! What about privacy?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lila replied, holding on to the counter to stay upright. She felt dizzy, everything tilting off its axis.
“You should sue!”
But Lila knew it was no use. The photos were out there now, everywhere. People all around the country were clicking through and gawking at . . . her. She could spend months in court, but it wouldn’t take this back.
Her private moments. Her most intimate experiences. Last night, she’d felt like she and Griffin were the only two people in the world, but now, everyone was getting a front-row seat to their love-making. How could this have happened?
How could she have been so careless?
She tried calling Griffin, but it went straight to voicemail. She texted him. Where are you? Call me, now!
God, what must he be thinking? He was a private man, and she’d just landed him on the front page of every tawdry tabloid in the world.
“Lila? Do you need to sit down?” Brooke asked, taking her hand. “She’s gone so pale,” she added to Summer. “Maybe she needs a glass of water.”
What Lila needed was for her naked photos not to be spread all over the internet, but it was too late for that. She numbly took the glass of water from Summer and sipped, trying to think clearly. She would need to call her agents, and Mindy, and—
“Oh God,” she groaned. “My mom!”
Brooke squeezed her hand. “Is there anything we can do?” she asked.
Lila shook her head. “No. I just . . . need to get home.”
“I’ll take you,” Brooke said.
“It’s fine, really.” Lila swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together. She offered a weak smile, as if this happened all the time. “I just need to keep my head down until I can talk to everyone back in LA. It’s a good thing I’m here,” she added, heading to the door. “At least nobody in Sweetbriar Cove will care—”
Lila stopped in the doorway. Every eye in the bakery was on her. They all looked scandalized—or downright delighted.
“Come with me,” Brooke hustled her to the door, past the whispers and side-eyes. Lila followed, trying to ignore the stares. She thought she’d learned how to block it all out, but here it felt different. Just a few hours ago, she’d felt like this was home. These people were her neighbors, potential friends.
And now they knew what she looked like without her underwear on.
“I just don’t understand,” she whispered as Brooke drove her back up the winding coastal highway. “How did they know where to find me? I’m used to paparazzi stalking me in LA, but nobody is supposed to know I’m here.”
“Maybe someone spotted you in town?” Brooke offered. She shot a pained look over from the driver’s side. “I feel terrible. I was the one who told you nobody here would rat you out!”
Lila shook her head. “It’s my fault. I should have known the secret wouldn’t stay secret long. I let my guard down,” she added, sadly. “I would never have done something like that back in LA, I just got swept up in everything, with Griffin . . .”
She swallowed back the tears that were stinging, hot in the back of her throat. How could she have been so stupid? Just because she’d decided to leave Hollywood behind, it didn’t mean they would let her go so easily. She couldn’t just snap her fingers and turn invisible. She was still Lila Moore: movie star.
There was no escaping that, not even here.
“Uh-oh . . .” Brooke’s voice brought Lila back to earth, and she looked up to find a couple of cars parked in the narrow lane. A few photographers were waiting, cameras at the ready. Lila gulped. Now that word was out, there was no avoiding them.
“Do you want me to stay?” Brooke asked. “I can call work, and—”
“No, don’t. If they see you, they’ll just find a way to hassle you, too.” Lila took a deep breath—and grabbed a baseball cap she saw sitting on the backseat. “Mind if I borrow this?”
“Sure.” Brooke shot her a sympathetic smile. “I know this must be awful, but if you need anything at all: wine, voodoo dolls . . . just call, OK? This will all blow over soon.”
Lila managed a nod. Somehow, Brooke’s kind words only made it worse. She may have meant well, but the other woman didn’t know how the tabloids worked. They could wring months of headlines from a scandal like this. It wasn’t going away anytime soon.
She braced herself and got out of the car. Immediately, they descended.
“Who’s the guy, Lila?”
“Did you leak the photos yourself?”
“Nice rack!”
She pulled the cap lower and tried to hurry past them. The cameras flashed i
n her face, and she almost stumbled, but she was able make it through the front gate and up the path. Lila’s hands were shaking, and she nearly dropped the keys, but she finally made it inside: slamming the door behind her and sinking back against the wall.
Lila gasped for air. They were like vultures, circling a fresh kill. And now they had her in their sights . . .
Breathe.
She ordered herself to take a couple of slow, steady breaths. Her team would know what to do. This was what she paid them for. She darted through to the kitchen and found her phone where she’d left it on the table.
72 missed calls.
Lila would have laughed if she hadn’t been so close to tears. She called her publicist Mindy, who picked up on the first ring.
“Where have you been?” Mindy demanded. “We’re at DEFCON 5 and I can’t even get you on the phone!”
“I’m sorry, I’m here now.” Lila swallowed. “Please, just tell me what to do.”
Mindy’s voice softened. “Right now, there’s nothing we can do except ride it out and wait for the feeding frenzy to die down. I’ll come up with an official response. Just hold tight, no comment, you know the drill.”
“But . . . Who took the pictures?” Lila demanded. “How did they know I was here?”
“I already called the photo agency. Said it was a freelancer, just showed up out of nowhere and offered them the pics,” Mindy replied. “What I need to know is everything about that guy you were with. He could be the one who set it up.”
“Griffin? No way,” Lila answered immediately.
“Are you sure?” Mindy didn’t sound convinced. “It seems awfully convenient: a photographer just happens to show up at your place the same night that you decide to go enjoy yourself al fresco.”
“Griffin wouldn’t do that,” Lila said stubbornly. “Besides, it was my idea.”
“Sweetie, what have I told you about privacy?”
Lila exhaled. “That it doesn’t exist,” she repeated quietly. “Not for people like me.”
“Exactly. I guess it’s too late to cry over spilled milk,” Mindy sighed. “I’ll send the usual release: invasion of privacy, blah blah. But we’re going to need a strategy to beat this,” she said in a warning tone. “And closing your eyes and hoping it all goes away just isn’t going to cut it this time.”
“I know,” Lila whispered, feeling lost all over again. Her call waiting sounded, and she checked the screen. It was her agents. Her stomach dropped even further. “Tell me if anything changes.”
She hung up and switched calls—and then listened to a whole different set of people tell her just what an emergency this was. “On the plus side, we’ve gotten offers from Maxim and Playboy,” her agent said grimly. “And the people that released that celebrity sex tape keep calling. Apparently, there’s a big market in porn for you now. Any interest?”
“No!”
The noise from the street seemed louder now. Lila went to peek through the front window and found the crowd of reporters out front had swelled. Now there were at least a dozen, jostling for the best spot. They must have seen her inside, because suddenly, they turned their attention on the house, snapping photos and yelling more questions. One guy even climbed up on the front gate, trying to get a clear shot.
Lila yanked the curtains shut and tried to think clearly. “Maybe this isn’t as bad as we think?” she asked hopefully. “I mean, other actresses have had photos published, and they made it through OK in the end.”
“There’s a difference between a nude pic hacked from someone’s phone, and going at it in the middle of the lawn,” he replied bluntly. “Some group in North Carolina have already started a Twitter campaign to get your movies banned from TV. Public decency and morals.”
What about the decency of whoever was creeping around, filming her most private moments? Lila wanted to ask, but she kept quiet. The knot in her chest was growing bigger, making it hard to speak.
“The important thing is, we need you back here in LA. You need to show everyone you don’t care what they’re saying.”
“We can spin this into an empowerment story,” someone else piped up. “You, holding your head high. It was a beautiful, private moment, you have nothing to hide, etc.”
“Maybe . . .” her agent agreed. “But we need to go on the offensive, and fast. If you stay silent now, it looks like you’re ashamed, like you did something wrong.”
But Lila did feel ashamed. Not for what had happened with Griffin in the garden, but for letting herself believe that she’d outrun the press. That her past fame and scandal wouldn’t catch up with her eventually.
She’d been foolish, and now she was paying the price.
A banging on the front door made her flinch. She backed away, feeling under siege.
The cottage wasn’t designed for this. There was only a low hedge protecting the house out front, and in the back, rolling fields and woods offered perfect cover for anyone looking to sneak closer . . . Suddenly, all the things she’d fallen in love with—the big windows, the sense of wide-open space—were the same things that made the place the worst possible hideout.
She wasn’t safe here, not anymore.
She picked up her phone and tried Griffin again. Voicemail. “It’s Lila, again,” she said, biting back a sob. “Can you call me. Please?”
She hung up, feeling more alone than ever. Maybe he was still locked in his greenhouse, oblivious to the chaos heading in his direction. Maybe he somehow didn’t know what was going on.
But if that were true, why wasn’t he returning her calls?
19
Griffin didn’t know which was worse: that photos of him having sex with Lila were on the front pages of every bottom-feeding tabloid in the world, or the fact that it was his own brother than had put them there.
He’d known something was up the minute he started getting the first scandalized calls from pretty much everyone he’d ever met. This had Jordy’s dirty handprints all over it. Still, he hadn’t wanted to believe his brother was involved. He’d told himself this was just another part of Lila’s fame—those same vulture reporters who had mobbed her at the gala and sent her running off to Sweetbriar Cove in the first place. She’d always talked about their underhanded tactics, and there was nothing more underhanded than this. But he found himself driving up to Boston all the same, to look Jordy in the eye and know for sure this wasn’t his doing.
Instead, he found the opposite.
“I knew I recognized her from somewhere.” Jordy grinned, a celebratory beer already in his hand. “Punching way above your weight, big brother!”
Griffin stared at him, an icy chill spreading down his spine. “What did you do?”
“I used my brain, for a change. They paid twenty thousand bucks for those photos!” Jordy cheered. “Can you fucking believe it? I figured we could split it, fifteen/five, you know, since I’m the one who had the big idea. Besides, you already got your payment, right bro? Looked like you had your fun.” He snorted with laughter, and it took everything Griffin had not to knock his brother out, and just keep punching.
But spending the night in jail wouldn’t fix this. Not for Lila, anyway.
“You took these?” he asked slowly, blood pounding in his ears so loud, it was a deafening roar. “The photos of us. That was you?”
Jordy grinned. “I borrowed a camera from my buddy, Mick. Snap, snap. Easiest money of my life. There’s more, too,” Jordy added. “The guy at the agency said those magazines are gagging for the real juice. A big tell-all, front page news. Said they’d pay fifty thousand if you tell ’em how she likes it in the sack—”
Griffin silenced him with his fist.
“What the fuck?” Jordy reeled back, clutching his face. Blood dripped through his fingers from the force of Griffin’s blow. “Ew bwoke by dose!”
“I didn’t break it, but I will if you say another word about her,” Griffin vowed. He stood there, fists clenched with barely contained rage. “Where’s the cam
era?”
“I didn’t—”
“Where’s the goddamn camera?!” Griffin advanced.
Jordy went pale. “Over there.” He pointed vaguely over to the living room. Griffin shoved past him and found it on the coffee table. He smashed it to the floor, and ground his heel onto the broken shards as Jordy moaned behind him.
“C’mon, that was brand-new!”
Griffin kept stamping. He knew the photos were long gone, on a hard drive and out in the online cloud. There was no taking them back, but he had to do something. He’d never felt a rage like this—or so helpless, either. Because of him, Lila was a public spectacle all over again, but this was far worse than some jilted groom or a bad breakup. She was naked. Exposed. He could only imagine what she was feeling right now.
And it was all his fault.
When finally the camera was nothing but broken pieces, he stopped and turned on his heel.
“Look, man,” Jordy began, as Griffin steamed past him. “What are you getting so worked up about? It’s just some chick.”
Griffin turned, and his anger must have been clear on his face, because Jordy shrank back in fear. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that again,” Griffin demanded, furious. “In fact, you won’t ever say a word to me again.”
“Aww, come on man,” Jordy whined, but Griffin was too far gone to listen. This waste of space may have been his brother by blood, but that meant nothing now. Not after this.
“I should have shut you out a long time ago,” Griffin swore, hating himself for letting it slide so long. If he’d only drawn the line sooner. If he’d only kept Lila safe from all this bullshit. But there was no taking any of it back. “You and me? We’re done now. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a brother.”
Jordy stared at him in shock as Griffin strode past him, out the door. “Griffin? Don’t be like this. Griff!”
Griffin walked away, back downstairs to his Jeep. He started the engine and dug out his phone. The messages from Lila were piling up in his voicemail, and listening to them just sent a dagger through his heart.
“It’s Lila, again,” her voice came, trembling. “Can you call me. Please?”