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  It wasn’t that the girls were older, it was that they were dressed in designer clothes and carrying absurdly priced handbags. Unless they were knockoffs, which would somehow make the situation even worse, because then the girls were only pretending to have money while living in the shallows of life. Sloane had made millions with her first three movies, but she’d poured almost all of that back into her art, and carried a two-year-old phone because that was more than she needed. All three of the teenagers hovering over Jolie were carrying this year’s iPhone.

  In other words, they were exactly the sort of girls she and Miles had insisted Jolie never become.

  “What are you guys doing?” Sloane asked, still holding her smile.

  “Having fun,” Jolie grunted.

  Who was this girl?

  “How did you get here?”

  Another grunt. “In a car.”

  The girls behind her laughed.

  Miles had his back to them, now in front of the line.

  Sloane fought to keep her voice patient and the smile on her face. “More specifically, who brought you here?”

  “Mendes.”

  “And who is Mendes?”

  “The guy who brought me here, duh.” Jolie snorted laughter.

  So did the girls.

  Sloane wanted to grab her daughter by the wrist and drag her out of Pirate Pizza, screaming if she had to. Instead she tried again. “Why aren’t you with Jake?”

  “He had to go, so Mendes came to replace him.”

  “Where did he go?” She needed her heart to stop beating so fast.

  Jolie was being obnoxious, but the crisis was over.

  “Home, I guess.” Jolie shrugged. “Mendes showed him something, then he left.”

  “Why would you just trust someone you’ve never met before?”

  “Jeez. Chill out, Mom. He was dressed exactly the same, in that black polo shirt with the little red logo.”

  Jolie’s new friends were all leaning ever so slightly forward, now more interested in what was developing in real time in front of them than whatever had been happening on their phones.

  “Why would you get in a car with him?”

  “Because you and Dad were both working late. Connor wasn’t there, and I was booooooored. Mendes said you guys would meet me here. He gave me a bunch of tokens and money for pizza and ice cream. I had fun. And now you’re here. So what’s the big?”

  Miles joined them before she could answer.

  “Great. You found her.” He was beaming, the poor guy had no idea. “Who are your friends?”

  “I can’t believe you left the set!” Sloane yelled, nice and shrill before Jolie could deliver another one of her snotty little answers. “You’re not supposed to leave with anyone, under any circumstances! What don’t you understand about that?”

  “I left with the bodyguard, Mom.” Then to her friends, “They think I need a bodyguard.”

  Miles looked ready to intervene, but Sloane shook her head and kept going.

  “What have we taught you about talking to strangers?”

  “I’m not five years old!” Jolie exclaimed, a different strain of immaturity now seeping through.

  “We’re going, Jolie,” Miles said. “Tell your friends goodbye.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “Last chance to say good—“

  “I DON’T WANT TO GO!” She took a breath. The next bit was calmer, but still irate. “We never have any fun. You and Mom are always busy! Connor’s mom picks him up early sometimes. And Jake isn’t as much fun as Tiffany was.” Then back to screaming. “I HATE IT HERE AND I WANT TO GO HOME!”

  Sloane was about to reply with something she would for sure one day regret, but Miles grabbed her by the wrist before she could assemble the proper order of words, let alone push them out of her mouth.

  Dad had his daughter in one hand and her mom in the other.

  “Nice to meet you.” Miles tipped his head toward the trio of girls it had absolutely not been nice to meet, then led them both out of Pirate Pizza while Jolie thrashed and her “friends” twittered behind them.

  She was quiet by the time Miles put her in the backseat.

  Then he turned to Sloane and said, “I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  But really, Miles had no idea.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sloane

  Sloane couldn’t stop thinking about Nicole.

  Same as their frantic trip to Pirate Pizza, Sloane was grateful that Miles took the wheel on their way back. Jolie was still acting like a brat, but doing it quietly in the back. She muttered under her breath, kicked the seat, and rolled her windows up and down until Dad killed the ability for her to do so.

  Sloane sank down in the passenger seat, settling into her thoughts as she remembered all those old struggles with Nicole.

  No matter what anyone thought or said or printed or lied about, Sloane had never wanted anything but the best for Nicole. They were best friends before they were enemies. Even all these years later, the disintegration of their relationship was one of Sloane’s biggest regrets. They didn’t need to know or like each other, especially now with both women in their thirties, but the unknown had felt like an open wound for two decades now.

  Did Nicole really hate her? Or was that just another role her mother had forced the poor girl into? If so, that was something she could understand.

  Once Sloane understood what Liam Wentz was trying to do, at least on some primitive level, of course she had to warn her best friend. She and Nicole had met on The Explorers Club and even after that show ended, they DMd each other on LiveLyfe every day, back when the platform was still relatively new and they felt so grownup for using it.

  But Nicole didn’t want to hear what her friend had to say. Sloane might as well have been speaking in tongues. She listened at first, with what seemed to Sloane like a blend of mild curiosity and even milder fear, followed by pure indifference after that.

  Nicole never wanted to hear that Liam Wentz was dangerous, so she never really listened. And when Sloane pressed her friend — begged her to tell a grownup about what was happening — Nicole lashed out at her. Accused her of being jealous that Mr. Liam liked her more than Sloane.

  Their last fight was the worst. Too bad that one hadn’t been caught on camera. Sloane could only remember a little of what Nicole had said, but she could still hear the discordant notes in her tone.

  You should do whatever he says anyway, because you don’t have enough talent to make it otherwise.

  Sloane did remember that one, yet she was alone in the memory. Unfortunately, the whole world had heard what she had bellowed at Nicole in a flurry of hurt and anger.

  You’ll never ever be as good as me at anything! And yes, of course I’ll lie if I have to!

  An absurdly unfair quote when taken out of context. The first part was fueled by anger, and understandable given the circumstances, even if it wasn’t acceptable. The second part was in reference to something Sloane had said before someone on set decided to turn the camera on their little dispute. If the scene had happened a few years later, everyone would have been capturing the exchange on their phones.

  When discussing whether she would be willing to say she had seen things Nicole had only told her about, Sloane said that of course she would lie to protect her friend. But out of context, the callback sounded like she would do anything to win.

  Losing her friendship with Nicole was part of what made that time of Sloane’s life feel like she had been living at the end of any world that mattered. It felt like a failure. She couldn’t get through to her friend and thus couldn’t protect her. The majority of Sloane’s nightmares featured her and the monster — Liam Wentz — alone. Most of the rest starred Nicole, tiny and shattered in a parade of escalating atrocities from the time Sloane left for London, and abandoned her best friend to an unspeakable fate, at least until Nicole was far enough on the opposite end of adolescence for him to finally stop fawning all
over her.

  But this was even worse.

  Now it wasn’t a “rival” actress Sloane would be failing to protect, it was her daughter.

  At least Jolie had finally stopped kicking the back of her seat.

  “Moonlight Sonata” reached its conclusion with perfect timing as Miles pulled back into the parking lot of Shellter Productions.

  He killed the engine. Sloane had no idea what might happen next.

  But then he turned to the back seat and in a stern voice she rarely heard from him, Miles said, “Don’t even think about opening that door.”

  Then he got out of the car and waited for Sloane to meet him outside.

  He ran a hand through his mess of hair as she closed her door, looking around. The cars were all gone, the place was deserted.

  “So, what do you think we should—”

  “We never should have brought her here,” Miles said, cutting her off.

  “Where were we going to bring her?”

  “We should have sent her back to Bruges?”

  “Back? That’s never been her home, Miles.”

  “Maybe it should have been.”

  “Of course it shouldn’t have been. Jolie should be with her parents.”

  “Then maybe both of her parents shouldn’t have agreed to this project.”

  “Miles …”

  “We talked about this. It’s time for a change. I’m bowing out. You should, too. Jolie was happy in London. So that’s—”

  “I’m finishing this film.” She shook her head, turning so her back was facing their daughter, doing her best to study the conversation from the back seat.

  “You promised to drop the film at the first hint of direct and genuine danger to Jolie. I strongly feel that this situation right now fits that definition.”

  “You’re right, I gave you my word. And I’m not trying to take it back. Of course, Jolie needs to be safe. And yes, she can stay with your parents, that’s a great idea. I’ll head to Bruges after the shoot. I can do the editing there. Or maybe we’ll go back to London before we figure out what’s next. But I can’t run, Miles. West Hollywood Sunset will ruin Liam Wentz and give me a new life. We can’t let him win.”

  “Us a new life.” Miles gave her a nod, finally getting it.

  “I love you as a human. And as an artist. I will truly, deeply miss you on this project. But I’m also sure that the Shellys will be able to nab me someone amazing, even at the last minute.”

  “I’m sure they can.” He waited a beat. “Mind if I ask you something?”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “Are you really staying for the movie? If I’m dropping out of the project and taking Jolie with me, then I deserve to know.”

  “What are you actually asking me?”

  “Are you staying for him? For Orson, I mean?”

  The unexpected laughter felt good. “I truly hadn’t even thought about that. But yes, I suppose I’d be lying if I said a small part of me didn’t want to see what might happen there. Still, that’s a slice of the pie. Mostly, I can’t let him silence me a second time. And besides, I owe it to the Shellys. After all they’ve done for me? And after all they’ve poured into this—”

  “Well, sure, chérie, but all they’ve done for you with this film has been for them, too. They want this to be a blockbuster as much as you do. And they also want their revenge.”

  “Does any of that matter? Even taking away the fact that Dominic and Melinda have always been there for me, I made my three movies so I could finally play with a real budget. It’s not just their money, it’s mine. One successful project leads rights into the next. And I need that in a way you don’t. You’ll shoot the hell out of whatever you’re hired for, whether that movie tanks with the critics or not. No one will ever shit on your cinematography, and you’ll always be in demand.”

  “It’s not that easy,” he argued.

  “It’s easy enough. At the very least, it’s easier. I need this movie, Miles, and I know you understand that there’s more than one reason why.”

  “I do.” A little bow of his head. “I’ll miss it. And you.”

  “You too, Belgie.” She gave him a hug.

  “Belgie? So you do know I’m not German.”

  “Of course I know.”

  “I don’t like the nickname.”

  “I’ll work on another one,” she said, pulling away.

  Each of them pretended not to notice that the other one was crying as they parted. Miles opened the rear door, told Jolie that they would talk in the morning and to stop giving her mother such a hard time, then got into the driver’s seat and closed the door.

  He gave a final wave to his partner in parenting.

  Sloane waved back then started walking toward her new rental, expecting Jolie to follow.

  She got into RAV4 Number Two and started the engine.

  Jolie climbed in the passenger side, slammed her door, then got right to it. “Did you have fun talking about me?”

  “We absolutely did.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  Sloane ignored Jolie’s question and grabbed her phone before backing out of the parking space, feeling dumb if not downright negligent when she saw three missed calls from Melinda.

  She returned the call hands-free while backing out of her parking space.

  “Sloane,” Melinda answered.

  “Sorry I missed all your calls. I was—”

  “Is Jolie with you?”

  “Yes. Liam Wentz had some goon pick her up and take her to Pirate Pizza. Unfortunately, Jolie was dumb enough to go right along with him. He didn’t even have to entice her with candy.”

  “I can hear you, Mom!” Jolie informed her, clearly missing the point.

  “Everyone is gone.” She pulled out of the studio lot and turned right onto the street. “Do you know what happened with the police? Has anyone talked to Jake?”

  “He woke up with a concussion. He was told that we wanted two people on Jolie. Wentz’s guy apparently showed him a phony work order then prompted him into taking a bathroom break. Jake says he was attacked in the bathroom.”

  “Apparently,” Sloane repeated. “He says. Am I sensing that you don’t believe him?”

  “We don’t know what to believe. Dominic is furious and looking into it right now. Jake better pray he doesn’t find anything.”

  “How is Jolie?”

  “Awful.”

  “Did he hurt her?”

  “Not like that,” Sloane said. “I think this is all too much for her. Miles is taking her to Belgium. His parents have a farm not too far outside Bruges. They’ll stay there until I’m finished with the shoot.”

  “NO WAY!” Jolie bellowed. “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

  “So you haven’t told her?” Melinda asked.

  “I just did.”

  Jolie kept screaming, but by now it was just nonsense words and almost curses.

  “I’m sorry to lose Miles, but it sounds like this is what’s best for your family. I assume you’d like us to curate a few possible choices for his replacement.”

  “When can I see them?”

  “First thing int he morning will be best.”

  “Your office or the house?”

  “The house. We’re up early.”

  Of course they were.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” Sloane said.

  “Don’t be. You can’t risk him going after Jolie again. Getting her a continent away is the smart thing to do, the right thing to do. If one of her parents needs to be with her, then this is the most appropriate choice.”

  Melinda, always the pragmatist.

  “Thanks,” Sloane said.

  “See you in the morning.” Then Melinda was gone, leaving Sloane and her daughter alone.

  “I hate you,” Jolie said.

  “I’m sure you do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Sloane

  “Can you play Alejandro’s reel one more time?” Sloane
asked.

  “Of course.” Dominic pressed play.

  She felt guilty for making the request, even though Dominic would never want her to. There were so many things to do and Sloane couldn’t help but feel the time incessantly ticking. She didn’t want to pick up her phone to check the time, but she must have been looking at the reels with Dominic for a few hours already. After last night’s disaster with Jolie, and losing Miles as a result, yet another day on Sunset had been scrapped. Dominic had five choices for her to look through, and she’d had her eyes glued to sample work ever since two minutes after sitting down.

  She hated that she was choosing her cinematographer this way. She preferred to fall in love with someone’s perspective in one film, then get lost in their catalog. Sloane had a list of her favorites, but none were available. All five of Dominic’s choices were award winners who could drop everything to help her. Sloane felt fortunate for the opportunity and resentful of the reality in unison.

  Alejandro’s reel finished with one piece of an incredible long take from Soldier Boy that reminded her a lot of the one in Brian DePalma’s Snake Eyes. That scene had wowed her in the original film when she saw it in a Notting Hill theater, and it did its work here.

  “It’s between Alejandro and Baxter,” she finally announced. “Is there a reason to go with one more than the other?”

  “Alejandro is probably better overall. But Baxter is probably better at taking direction.”

  “You decide, I don’t care.” Sloane sighed and shook her head, hating that she wanted to cry. Then a sudden change of topic, more fitting to her state of mind. “To hell with plausible deniability — what are you doing to go after him?”

  Dominic had been kind all morning. Somehow his voice managed to sound even gentler. “We’ve made progress, but I still can’t tell you anything more than that until the details are locked down. I’m sorry.”