The way Tommy stood before Ira, Layla couldn’t help but notice there was something markedly different about him. He wasn’t doing this for her. This was about challenging Ira, daring the boss to fire him, all the while sure that he wouldn’t. The silent standoff lingering for so long, everyone started fidgeting and shifting—everyone except Tommy, who stood his ground, making whatever incomprehensible point he was determined to make.
“Don’t let it happen again,” Ira finally said, his voice sharp, gaze unwavering. But Tommy just nodded and returned to his seat, as Ira turned his focus to Ash.
“The impressive numbers at Night for Night were no thanks to you. You pulled in maybe ten people max. We won’t stand for that.”
With the heavy eye makeup he wore, it was impossible to tell what Goth Boy might be thinking.
“You have anything to say for yourself?”
“No, man, just—thanks for the opportunity.” He leaped from his seat and made for the door as Layla stared in confusion. Not understanding how she’d managed to survive another week. If Ira knew about the tequila, then clearly he knew her numbers were even worse than Ash’s.
Whatever. She’d accept the reprieve for the gift that it was. Last night had marked her very last screwup.
A few minutes later, Tommy headed for the door as Layla rushed to catch up. “What was that about?” she asked.
He swung the door open, forcing her to shield her eyes from the glare. Sometimes the incessant brightness felt like an assault. The forced cheeriness of three hundred and thirty days of sun was downright annoying. She’d give anything for just one rainy day.
“That was about me saving you. Again.”
Layla shrank under his piercing blue gaze. As much as she dreaded bringing it up, she needed him to know she considered their kiss a mistake she would never repeat.
“Tommy, about—” she started to explain, but he spoke right over her.
“Forget it. It’ll be our little secret.”
She stood awkwardly before him, wanting to believe it, not sure that she could.
“As for what happened in there—” He hooked a thumb toward the club. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to collect on the favor.”
“Excuse me?” She ran after him. “I don’t remember asking you to do that. I was ready to pay the price.”
“Clearly.” He shook his head. “You didn’t even put up a fight. So I took a swing for you.”
She was afraid of the answer, but forced herself to ask the question anyway. “Why?”
His gaze roamed hers, studying her for an uncomfortable moment before he finally conceded, “I have my reasons. And now, because of it, you have a second chance to decide what you really want out of life.”
She watched him slide behind the wheel of his car, wanting to shout some nasty retort, knowing she should thank him instead, and settling on neither.
And now, she owed him. Great. She could only imagine what he’d ask in return.
TWENTY-TWO
GHOST IN THE MACHINE
“How did this happen?”
Madison sat in the passenger seat of a dark-green SUV, tugging at the brim of her worn baseball cap and staring out the windshield at a landscape marred by cargo ships, brightly colored rectangular containers, and tall working cranes. Everything about the meet was designed to go unnoticed. The car was ordinary. The San Pedro port was too busy for anyone to question them, and if they did, Paul had the credentials to make them go away. Then there was Paul himself and his utterly forgettable face. It was one of the things that made him so good at his job: no one ever remembered seeing him, and it was nearly impossible to describe him.
“You told me—no, correction, you assured me—that everything from my past was sealed, locked up tight, and safely stored in a deeply buried vault with no key.”
He nodded, his pale eyes scanning the harbor. “I’ve recently come to think otherwise.”
She sighed. Sank so low in her seat she could barely see past the dashboard. She had obligations, loads of press, a movie to promote, an impending breakup with Ryan that would inevitably become very public no matter how hard she tried to keep it under wraps. She didn’t have time for problems. Not of this magnitude.
“How do you know it’s not just another bogus attempt to extort me? You know how fame attracts opportunists.” She studied him closely. The face that had once rescued her, changed her life in ways she could never repay, was now delivering the worst news he possibly could.
“This is different.” He pressed his lips together until they practically disappeared, making her wonder who this moment was harder for, him or her. Paul prided himself on meticulous attention to detail. But if he really did slip, the life Madison had worked so hard to create would burn as quickly as her previous life had.