Several glasses of wine, crispy appetizers, and a filling meal later, I was back at home. And I was happily tipsy, almost forgetting about the events leading up to me wanting to get tipsy in the first place.

Petra texted me as I was on the way home, to inform me Leo had been at the penthouse all night and all day, and that he promised he'd come home tonight.

I didn't want to sit there waiting for him, but after removing my heels and massaging my ankles, I settled into a comfortable spot on the living room sofa, and decided to remain there until he waltzed in.

When midnight rolled around, I was about to text Cameron to ask him for advice, when I heard the basement door open and close from afar. Leo's footsteps were distinctive—a certain rhythm to each foot hitting the ground. That usually excited me, brought a smile to my face.

Even inebriated as I was, I couldn't smile this time. I had no idea what to expect. Would he barge in and yell at me? Would he go straight upstairs if he saw a light on in the living room? Or would he sweep up to me and remove my clothes for another stress-relieving round of sex?

When he appeared in the doorway, in the same jeans and t-shirt as last night, the same look on his face, his skin tired and with added scruff, I clenched my jaw and remained still as a statue.

"Hey," he said, his expression loosening as he found me half-lounged, half-planked on the couch. He scrubbed his face and yawned as he came to sit beside me.

I scrambled to pull my legs underneath me to make room for him. "Hi," I said, sounding shyer than I'd meant to. I cleared my throat. "Hi, sorry, I...I've had a few cups of wine, and it's all stuck in my throat."

He patted my leg and flashed me a small smile. "You're good. I've had a few, too." He puffed out a breath and leaned into the couch cushion. "It's been twenty-four hours of...hell? I'm not even sure."

"I'm sorry," I breathed, immediately assuming he was still pissed at me. He wouldn't have sat next to me if he were, I knew, yet something about his demeanor told me to be on my guard. He was stiff, even as he slumped, and his legs were jittery. "For yesterday, for everything I said, I—"

He squeezed my knee, cutting me off. "You don't need to be sorry, Emma. I'm not mad at you." He grabbed a pillow and set it behind his head as he closed his eyes. "I needed space so I could think through what you said, and I..." His eyes popped open, instantly zoning in on me. "I shouldn't have run off like that, without a word. So I'm sorry."

A few strands of his hair had fallen over his face as he turned his head. I wanted so badly to move them out of the way, to better gauge his expression. "It's okay, you're here now."

"Trust me, I wanted to be here all day, but I..." He released another deep sigh. "After what you told me, Cameron's suspicions...I had to go over all my staff members and narrow down which ones might dare do something so foolish. Because someone who's sneaking around watching us..."

I nodded. "Might be the same person who's leaking information to Sfuria to fuck us up. I know." I caved and caressed his hair, tucking it behind his ear. "Petra mentioned that was what might have gone through your mind."

He winced as I touched him, but didn't pull away. "Did you accept the Sapphire gig thing?"

"I, uh..." I switched my gaze to my lap, to my dress wrinkling over my thighs. "Not yet, but I think I'm going to."

"Good." I heard the strain in his voice, though I also saw him attempting a smile to cover it up. "I mean, knowing Petra, she gave you the green light in my place...not that you needed my authorization. You're free to do what you want. Unlike," he scoffed, "me."

I blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." He stretched, one of his arms wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me closer. "If I don't show up for meetings when Petra demands them, she tends to get...upset." He chuckled. "She hasn't yelled at me like that via text in a long time. Kind of glad I dodged her phone calls."

I had no trouble envisioning the tiny-framed Petra screaming her lungs out and sounding as threatening as a demon king about to suck someone's soul from their body. But, overall, she was a nice lady.

I now knew not to piss her off. Ever.

"Never," he squeezed me harder into his side, "be afraid to come to me with anything, OK? I know it was intimidating, but thank you for telling me what you did. I was so fucking oblivious...but I'm working on it, thanks to you, and to some extent, Cameron." He frowned, his grip loosening slightly. "Now that I know someone in my staff might be fucking around, I can investigate."

I shuddered. "Investigate? Like...how?" My brain promptly went to torture and water-boarding, and I shuddered again. Leo had never given me reason to believe he'd employ such methods. But I'd watched way too many shows and movies with celebrities who had less than legal methods to obtain intelligence when they needed it.

To my surprise, Leo laughed. "Emma, please. What do you think I am? Some mafia lord?" He twisted to face me, then cupped my chin and stared deep into my eyes. "I'm just a rockstar. A really rich one, with a lot of resources—but nothing like what you're imagining in that sexy mind of yours."

"My sexy mind," I slurred, "is pretty drunk. I might still be picturing you as some hot undercover mafia lord, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He laughed again and stood up, helping me up in the process. "I'll talk to everyone I have on my list of suspects. Talk, only talk, and figure out why they're doing this before acting irrationally and—"

"—having them killed?" I gasped. Why, why did my intoxicated brain let that fall out of my mouth?

Luckily, Leo only shook his head and chortled as he guided me out of the living room. "More like suspending or firing them, but we'll see. I'll hear them out, and we'll go from there. No killing involved." He kissed my cheek as we went up the stairs, and with his tenderness, I was reassured.

Sort of.

***

I did it. I texted Cameron, told him I accepted Sapphire's offer, and appreciated it, and there was no rush. Except Cameron did put a rush on it, because Sapphire's schedule was packed, and she only had time for me next week.

Next week.

"So I only have a week to prepare for this? Fuck!"

I was frantic, dialing Daphne for every bit of information on Sapphire she could give me to not look like a moron. Listening to her music had been a forbidden thing while I was dating Leo, and while I knew some of her older songs, I hadn't gained interest in her until a few months before I met Cameron. Her private life, her habits, all that—I knew nothing about.

I perused websites and magazines for anything about her and her fashion sense. With that, and Daphne's information, I put together a mood-board, an aesthetic with her styles and color preferences, to help me tailor my questions for her.

When a week had passed, and Cameron messaged me where to meet Sapphire, I was a ball of nerves. Yes, she'd given me a break with this, but I'd only be successful if I wrote something good. If I produced a half-assed article with poorly researched facts and questions that didn't pertain to fashion, I'd be ignored to a deeper extent than now.

This had to be perfect.

Leo wished me luck, and as I got into the service car, as it steered me up and out of the secret exit, I gnawed on my lip, likely erasing my lip-stain. I'd spent hours in front of my wardrobe, unsure what to wear. And when Leo came in to help me and ended up fingering me under the dress I'd finally settled on, I threw him out and changed into pants. Not that Sapphire would try anything like that, but wearing the dress made me think of Leo, which made me think of—

No, I'd made the right choice. If I was interviewing Sapphire about fashion, I, myself, had to be fashionable. So I put on tight, leather-like slacks, a bright red top—still channeling Belle's advice about the color I avoided—and minimal jewelry so it wouldn't get in my way. Cameron warned me Sapphire was bringing her own photographer, and I'd asked her to bring her five most favorite outfits of all time. But I'd be in charge of deciding how she posed, where she posed, and how many pictures to take.

The building where we met was a nondescript, factory-like place north of the Financial District, in an area surrounded by bustling restaurants and coffee-shops and high-end shops. Paparazzi were there—I knew how to recognize their cars and demeanors by now. But they were too focused on trying to capture celebrities exiting stores with heaps of bags, and observing who they brought with them. No one paid any heed to the dark window-tinted SUV rolling past and turning into an alleyway.

A security officer who'd been sitting up front—Leo insisted, since he couldn't go with me—helped me out, looked left and right for intruders, then escorted me into the building. It was a large, white loft, with white-tiled floors and impeccably white walls. Some walls delimited what might have once been rooms. This place might have been an office that was recently renovated, but no one had bought it yet. Abandoned, but chic and clean at the same time.

I expected Sapphire to pop out from behind one of the walls to greet me, but the space was empty. Thuds came from the floor above, and soon I heard the creak of stairs to my left. A door opened, and in its frame—

Cameron.

Of course he'd be here. He was Sapphire's PA, after all, and he along with her manager handled everything for her. I wasn't sure why seeing him surprised me. He'd organized this, he'd been the one texting me the details, relaying my requests to her, sending me the address to meet at.

"Hey," he said, waving me over. He nodded at the security guy. "She'll be fine upstairs with us, promise. There's a kitchen around the corner, stocked with drinks and food; help yourself."

Security guy grunted a thanks and disappeared as Cameron gestured at the stairs where he'd come from.

"Is she here?" I clutched my oversized purse to my chest, its folders overflowing. I'd snuck my laptop in, too, thinking I might have time to type a mock-up article while still talking to Sapphire, to show her before I published it on my website.

"Yeah." Cameron allowed me to climb first, and I thanked him, because the steps were narrow and slippery. He'd be behind me to catch me if I fell.

He's probably also ogling my ass—

"Sorry about the rush on all this," he said, as we arrived at the top. This floor was arranged similarly to below, but with more brick patterns than white, and fewer walls. To my left I noticed a sitting area with bold, bright couches encircling a glass coffee-table covered with magazines. To my right was a mini photography studio, complete with backdrops, props, rows of hanging clothes, and all sorts of photography equipment. "Her schedule is packed beyond belief, especially since we're moving shit around to work with Leo."

I watched his expression shift and flinch at the name, but he recovered too quickly for me to say something.

Sapphire emerged from behind a line of sparkly dresses. "Ah, Emma, there you are." She smiled as she walked over, garbed in a simple, fluffy dressing gown, rabbit-shaped slippers on her feet. "You said five outfits, I know, but...I kind of brought over everything, and I hope you can help me narrow it all down?"

By everything, she meant literally everything. Her stylist had been hiding back there too, and when she saw me, she scurried over to whisper in my ear.

"I told her to pick a few, even if they were random," she hissed, sounding out of breath, as if she'd spent all morning screaming. "But she insisted on bringing her entire closet. It was a nightmare to pack. I'm sorry."

I patted her back. "It's all good." I couldn't remember her name, but didn't get a chance to ask before she hurried off to perform some other task.

I thought Cameron would leave us now, and go sit on the couch or take a nap or something, but to my surprise, he kept close. He leaned against a wall, scrolling through something on his phone, from time to time looking up at us.

Sapphire drew me over to the first rack of clothes. "I had them sorted," she said, "evening gowns, party outfits, video shoot favorites, casual stuff, funny stuff, uh," she winked at me, "sexy stuff."

"She doesn't want sexy stuff, Sapphire," said Cameron, as easy-going as if he were talking to a best bud, and not his boss. Had he developed a friendship with Sapphire, as he had with Leo?

I gasped, but covered my mouth, pretending to yawn instead. What if Cameron was sleeping with Sapphire? He'd slept with Leo, after all. It wouldn't come as that big of a shock.

But it wasn't my business so I shoved that thought to the back of my head, and focused on Sapphire. "Let's do a favorite of each category, minus the sexy stuff. And if you can't pick, grab the one you think had the biggest effect on your fashion sense."

It didn't take her as long as I'd thought it would before she had five outfits laid out in front of me, on a giant table that had appeared out of nowhere. And each option was as rambunctious and flamboyant as the next. But that was Sapphire's style—in your face, out there. So colorful it hurt your eyes, but once your eyes stopped hurting, you saw the marvel in her taste, the perfection in each tailored piece of fabric.

"So, we'll get the photo-shoot done first, and I'll take some notes as I watch. Let's do..." I gazed at each outfit, but was most drawn to the silver cat-suit from one of her videos. "That one." I pointed at it with the pen I'd gotten out while she showed me all the options.

Sapphire squirmed. "Ugh, I love that one. But I'm glad you chose it first because it's a pain in the ass."

I laughed as she sauntered off to get changed in an adjacent room.

"Where's the photographer?" As I extracted my notebook and set my bag on a table, I turned to where I'd last seen Cameron loitering, but he wasn't there.

Seconds later, he appeared at my side, almost by magic, and almost too close for comfort. "Parking his car." He glanced over my shoulder at the remaining four outfits on the table, but didn't look at the notes I'd started jotting down.

"Okay," I said, leaning away, preparing to move out of the way so he'd get the hint that I wanted him out of my space. I didn't mind it usually, if an assistant was too close—but this was Cameron, and I was working.

He didn't get the hint. He remained firmly in place, his breath vaulting down my neck, his mouth so near my ear I wondered if he was about to bite it off, or stick his tongue into it. The latter idea made me shudder.

What made him think it was okay to be like this? To encroach my space, to nearly cuddle up to me as if we were still together?

"I miss you," he whispered, every syllable cascading into my ear and trickling down my spine in waves of tremors.

At that point—and even before then—I should have elbowed him off and verbally told him to back off, but something kept me rooted in my spot. Curiosity, nostalgia, a soupcon of lust; perhaps a bit of all three.

I tensed as his lips brushed my ear lobe, and memories overcame me. Him, me, us together, holding hands, kissing, fucking, holding each other—

"I miss you too," I said, side-stepping, deciding I wouldn't let his proximity entice me to a mistake. "But we can't do this. You can't do this." I twisted my neck, as risky as it was with him so near. He could angle forward and kiss me in a heartbeat. But I had to glare at him, to show him I meant business. "You made your choice, Cam."

To call him Cam aloud hurt me more than I'd ever thought it would. I hadn't realized I missed saying it, missed having him around.

"I have to get this out," he said, glancing down at his shoes and not at me, his voice still lowered. "I still have feelings for you. Honestly, I might have been in love with you, and might still be. But I...I freaked. Leo was...and he's just...I panicked. I'm sorry."

The genuine sadness and regret in his timbre squeezed my heart, knotted my stomach. He was in true agony, and struggling to tell me something so serious, knowing full well I couldn't reciprocate.

I'd been in love with him too, but to tell him that now...it would shatter his heart. And while he'd shattered mine, I didn't want to stoop that low. I didn't want to break him.

"It's too late, Cameron." I held in the urge of reaching out to touch his arm, to be affectionate as I let him down. "Thank you for informing me, for apologizing, but it's...I can't..." I huffed, and gripped my pen and notebook tight, resolved. "I'm happy. Leo and I are happy."

He lifted his gaze, his eyes dark and inquisitive. "Are you?" He cocked his head, studying me; and when Sapphire's heels clacked on the floor and she reemerged, he left my line of sight.

When I got a chance to turn around, while Sapphire was getting into position, I looked for him—but he was gone.

♪♪♪