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  “Yes, except for them. But the Shellys will root those people out and make them sorry. They’ll only be able to work with Voldemort from then on. And we all know what happened to the Death Eaters.”

  “I actually don’t remember,” Sloane admitted.

  “Me neither. But I think most of them were permanently imprisoned in Azkaban or whatever.” Orson shrugged. “It wasn’t good. My point is that we have to be patient. You’re doing all the right things, it’s just hard to see that.”

  “I’m not doing anything!”

  “No,” he shook his head, “you’re waiting for evidence. Right now, you have nothing, so silence is your ally. Speaking too soon will only hurt you, but speaking later could very well destroy him.”

  “Hopefully,” she added.

  “It’s what we have to believe.” Orson offered her another reassuring smile. “You were never wrong to tell the world what he did to you, but accusing Voldemort without having the evidence to back you up is what killed your career the first time, right?”

  Yes, that was correct, even if Orson’s pointing it out felt like a cold blade between her ribs.

  “You’re right. Thanks for talking me down. I just hate that he’s always winning.”

  He shook his head. “He’s not always winning, but I understand why you feel that way.”

  Something changed in his face.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” Sloane asked.

  “Because, I might have a present for you.”

  “Is it that dinner we were supposed to have?” Not that she could even go right now.

  “Better,” he said.

  “Better than dinner with a box-office dominating, Oscar-winning movie star?”

  “I know someone who specializes in getting dirt on people in the industry.”

  “You mean like a private eye or something?”

  “I mean like the guy who writes for Hollywood Hunted.” He grinned.

  “How do you know him? Isn’t he a mystery man? And doesn’t he hate actors and, you know, like all of Hollywood?”

  “He lived a couple doors down from me, before I was …”

  “Famous,” Sloane finished for him. “You can say it.”

  “Famous,” he repeated with a smile. “Anyway, yes, he does hate Hollywood but he has a soft spot for me. Hell, he might already have what we need and not even know it.”

  “You’ll really talk to him?”

  “Of course. If I was just name-dropping, I would’ve mentioned that I met Barack Obama.”

  “Again, not surprised, but you have?”

  “I have.” He gave her a sheepish yet self-assured grin.

  “Thank you.” She shook her head with an equal measure of appreciation and disbelief.

  “How thankful are you?”

  His question got her heart beating faster. “How thankful do you want me to be?”

  “Enough to let me finally take you to dinner.”

  She shook her head again, this time delivering a difficult truth. “I can’t. I have Jolie.”

  “Jolie will understand. I’ll have Armando from Natural Nurturing come and pick her and Connor up, then we can all meet up later.”

  Sloane still hesitated.

  He kept talking. “We can take separate cars so it doesn’t feel like too much like a date, just in case that’s bothering you, and I promise to take you to the second-best restaurant I know, so you can still have another dining experience to look forward to. Now, how does that sound?”

  She laughed. “Like a dream.”

  “Well, then …” Orson offered his hand. “Let’s make it happen.”

  Sloane linked her fingers with his. And something inside her whispered—

  Chapter Sixteen

  Melinda

  “You know there’s no going back from this, right?” Dominic asked her.

  Melinda stopped brushing her hair and turned to her husband. “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”

  “I love a little Sun Tzu before dinner as much as the next mogul, but you didn’t really answer my question.”

  “It’s time, Dominic. We played it your way going in, but Wentz is—”

  “That wasn’t my way, love. It was—”

  “A little too timid.” Melinda smiled at her husband then returned to the mirror and began brushing her hair in the reflection again. “Our efforts now require a much stronger dose.”

  “No disagreement there. Or anywhere,” he amended. “I only question the specific nature of our next move. Danny is dangerous.”

  “That’s why it’s time to call him.”

  “But he’s not on our payroll,” Dominic argued.

  “We’re still paying him.”

  “There’s a difference. Ultimately, Danny Whatever His Name Is works for himself.”

  “That’s a good thing. The money is hidden and we have no visible ties. The guy doesn’t officially exist, and we don’t even know his name. What exactly is it that you’re worried about?”

  “The things I can’t see,” Dominic admitted.

  Again, Melinda paused her brushing to turn from the mirror and look at him. “Isn’t that why we need Danny?”

  “I don’t want to need anyone but you.”

  “That’s very sweet, but I think we both know you also need to win, especially against Wentz. This is how we do that.”

  Melinda was right. And Dominic knew it.

  She understood his discomfort, but this wasn’t the time or place. Not if they wanted to protect Sloane, turn her Hollywood debut into a modern classic good enough to reboot her career that also helped launch their platform, and ultimately obliterate a predator that was swimming around like a shark at the beach that no one had the courage to catch.

  Except for them, and this was the way to do it.

  Sam, the Treadwells’ agent, knew a man who occasionally went by the name Danny … in addition to several other pseudonyms. Danny, or whomever he was playing at the time, was a fixer. The Shellys had used a few such fixers in their two decades and change in the industry, and Danny was no doubt the best.

  Melinda agreed with her husband that it was dangerous to use him. But she also thought at this point, considering how much damage Wentz had managed to level against them in only a week — and their first one in production — it was exponentially more dangerous not to.

  Dominic stood from the bed and looked at his watch. “Fifteen minutes?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Melinda repeated without turning from the mirror.

  Their lives were lived with precision already, but liaisons like this required something extra.

  They agreed to meet at a quarter to seven on the back lawn. A terrific spot, where the Shellys had hosted more business conferences than they could count without studying their calendars, but only when meeting with Danny did their guest suddenly appear as if from nowhere. And just like the other four times the three of them had sat out by the pool together speaking of things that should never be said aloud, the fixer brought his own food.

  “Good to see you guys again.” Danny was already sitting, chowing down on a burger. He gave them a nod as they approached, pointing to the bags. “There’s plenty. I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered a bunch of stuff.”

  “Sloppy’s?” Dominic looked at the bags with utter disgust. “Again?

  “You can never go wrong with Sloppy’s.” Danny took another bite of his burger.

  Dominic shook his head. “You always go wrong with Sloppy’s.”

  “Why don’t we get started?” Melinda suggested.

  She wasn’t sure whether it amused or perturbed her that Danny managed to get under Dominic’s skin. The guy probably hated Sloppy’s every bit as much as her husband.

  Danny took another big bite of burger and shoved a handful of fries into his mouth. “Sowhtzthehasz?”

  So, what’s the haps?

  “You’re a pig,” Dominic s
aid, taking a seat. Then to Melinda: “He’s a pig.”

  Danny swallowed, wiped his mouth with the back of his burger hand, then reached for another handful of fries with the other one. “A clean pig makes lean bacon.”

  Melinda sat. “My husband still doesn’t understand that this is all an act on your part.”

  “What makes you think it’s an act?” Danny grinned.

  She pointed at his T-shirt and read the caption aloud. “I suck at apologies, so unfuck you or whatever. Last time you were wearing a Ted Nugent shirt, and it was Big Johnson the time before that.”

  “I’m a collector.” Danny pointed at the bags, grease stains bleeding through them. Soon they’d look like bullet holes. “You guys should start eating. This stuff is total shit once it gets cold.”

  “You know how to push Dominic’s buttons.” Melinda looked at her husband. “He knows better than to let you, but it happens anyway.”

  “I don’t push your buttons?” He shoved the final bit of burger into his mouth.

  “We’re paying for this?” Dominic shook his head, still not getting it.

  “Exactly,” Melinda explained. “Our fixer is proving that he can be whoever he needs to be.”

  “And right now he needs to be a pile of shit who—”

  “You never lose your cool, Dominic. And yet, this guy can get you to lose it just by sitting down and eating Sloppy’s in front of you.”

  “That’s not all he’s doing,” Dominic argued.

  Melinda turned to Danny, or whatever his name actually was. “No, you don’t push my buttons. I like to see what I’m paying for.”

  “Well then, vamos começar esta festa.” He winked at Dominic. “So, like I said at the start of this little soirée, what’s the haps?”

  “What do you know about Liam Wentz?” Melinda asked.

  Danny’s body language instantly changed, and for a micro-second she saw him become someone else entirely. The metamorphosis lasted only a moment, then it was mostly gone and Melinda was looking at a man that was both more and less than he’d been just a few blinks before.

  He shook his head and stood. “You can keep the Sloppy’s.”

  Dominic looked at Melinda. “Is this part of his act?”

  “Sit down.” Melinda was commanding enough to nab Danny’s attention, but he still didn’t sit. “I assume by your reaction that you’re more than familiar with him.”

  “I don’t work on that asshole’s behalf,” Danny said. “And that ain’t a part of no act.”

  “Sit down,” she repeated. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

  Dominic shifted in his seat, suddenly much more interested in a conversation with their fixer.

  “This is my fault,” Melinda said. “I apologize for starting out with such an open-ended question without any context. Let me clarify. My husband and I would like to destroy Liam Wentz, and to do that, we need your help.”

  She almost expected Dominic to chime in with, She needs your help, but he was still leaning forward, still interested.

  “So, with that in mind,” Melinda continued, “What do you know about Liam Wentz?”

  “He’s a kid fucker who deserves to get a bullet in his dick and a couple in each of his kneecaps. He’s also made some really excellent films.”

  “Do you have any personal experience with him?”

  “Not exactly,” Danny answered Dominic, the artificial mirth now gone from his voice.

  “Are you familiar with Sloane Alexander?” Melinda asked.

  “Everyone’s seen Remaking Christmas, but in the context of this conversation I’m guessing it’s more The Good Daughter.”

  “We represented Sloane when she accused Wentz twenty years ago,” Dominic said.

  Danny nodded, suddenly understanding the edges of whatever this was.

  “Sloane has written the script for a film called West Hollywood Sunset. She’s directed three independent films, but this project has our full backing,” Melinda explained. “Sam tells me you know the Treadwells. They’re—”

  “Sam shouldn’t be telling you that.”

  “—working on a companion memoir. Together, this should spell his downfall. Wentz has mansions full of closets, and most are stuffed with skeletons. We just need to tip the first domino. We tried and failed twenty years ago, and he’s been doing it who knows how many times both before and since.”

  “I’m with you,” Danny said. “So, where are we now?”

  Dominic responded. “We just started shooting, but it appears Wentz has someone—”

  “Or many someones,” Melinda cut in.

  “—on the inside. We’ve had a compromised computer code for Shellter Productions’ biggest project, actors breaking contracts, a feeble little strike, and a serious bout of food poisoning, plus a crashed light kit so far.”

  “Also misinformed parents waving their sabers at us,” Melinda added.

  Danny nodded. “You have any new employees at Shellter?”

  “Define new,” Dominic said.

  “Less than six months.”

  “No.” Melinda shook her head. “Two years is the shortest amount of time we’ve known anyone involved in the project.”

  Danny raised his eyebrows. “Good answer. I assume you’ve already looked into who went home sick, who had access to food, who was around the lighting kit, including all the et ceteras?”

  “We have,” Dominic said. “But so far none of our leads have amounted to anything.”

  “That’s why you’re here,” Melinda told him. “We had a plan, but Wentz has forced us into a new one. He needs to go down. So far, he has cost us time, money, and convenience. We’ve not lost any lives. But at this point, it feels inevitable. Wentz will do anything to dodge his consequences.”

  “That guy has killed already,” Danny said.

  “You know that, or you think that?” Dominic had something in his eyes that Melinda couldn’t quite interpret — a rarity for sure.

  “I know it like I know you two fuck at least five times a week,” Danny said.

  “He needs to go down,” Melinda repeated. “We need to be sure that when it comes down to it, the right people are left standing this time.”

  “Agreed.” Danny nodded again. “We make sure the bastard takes the blame, no matter who pulls the trigger. You already know the good and bad news about this guy. He’s been doing his shit for a while. That means there’s plenty of dirt to dig up, but doing so is going to be dangerous.”

  “You know something,” Dominic said, and Melinda now understood the look in his eyes. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve heard a few things.” Danny took a moment to finish his thought, and Melinda imagined it was that he was revealing something ahead of schedule. “You two aren’t the only people who have been digging into this guy. I’ve heard talk that Wentz doesn’t just like his prey one-on-one. I’ve heard he’s connected to Sprog.”

  So little gave Melinda gooseflesh, but that word always did.

  Sprog: the supposed child porn ring that the Shellys had been hearing about forever, but that no one so far could prove actually existed.

  “You think Sprog is real,” Dominic said.

  “Of course it is.” Danny didn’t sound like he had a molecule of doubt. “But we need proof.”

  “How do we get that?” Dominic asked.

  “You think you’re the first person to wonder?” Danny shrugged, but the gesture seemed far from indifferent. “You know anyone who traffics in underage girls, because I don’t, and that would be a great place to start.”

  Of course he was being sarcastic. But Danny still had an excellent idea.

  “Actually,” Melinda said, getting what was might be a brilliant idea, “I just might.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sloane

  “This is so not what I expected,” Sloane said, looking around the gorgeous restaurant.

  “So, I assume you’ve never been.” Orson grinned at her.

/>   “I’ve been living in London for the last twenty years, so no, I’ve never been here.”

  But of course she had heard of Arrivé, the Michelin Star restaurant started by world famous pastry chef and host of Bake it Away, Amanda Byrd. There were three locations — the flagship in L.A. where they were eating now, a second and supposedly more impressive spot in New York, and the newest location in Austin, Texas which Orson dubbed a “wild experiment” but every bit as amazing as the other two.

  Sloane had never eaten paella this full of flavor, including during the three months she spent living in Spain.

  “How do you know so much about Arrivé?” Sloane asked him. “Are you an investor or something?”

  “Nope. But the Shellys sort of are.” Orson looked at her, surprised. “You didn’t know that?”

  She shook her head. “Dominic and Melinda have way too much going on for me to even try and keep track of it all. I had no idea they were dabbling in the restaurant business.”

  “They’re not … exactly.”

  “So they’re not investors?”

  “They’re investors in Amanda Byrd. They’re the producers of Bake it Away. I’m guessing you didn’t know that either?”

  “Nope.” Sloane shook her head again.

  “I’m sure you know about Juke.”

  “Of course. Sunset is a launch title.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Orson nodded. “Well, the Shellys have been both acquiring and developing a metric fuck ton of content in anticipation of the launch. They’ve been planning this for a long time. Years now. They’ve funded, produced, or somehow finagled their way into a slew of top tier or coveted projects and managed to work eventual Juke rights into all of their contracts, without ever even using the name Juke. No one is anticipating that a production studio like Shellter would ever have the ambition to launch their own platform. It’s going to take the world by storm when they finally announce it.”

  “It is a little crazy.” Sloane gave herself a chill saying it.

  “Oh, yeah,” Orson agreed. “It’s totally batshit. But I would never bet against the Shellys. I don’t know how they’ve got this, exactly, but I know they do.”