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“I’ve already read about it in all the tabloids anyway,” I said with a snicker.

Walker shot me a sidelong glance and said jokingly, “You’re a pain in my ass. Remind me why I wanted to see you again?”

I shrugged. “Hell if I know! That’s what I keep asking you.”

“You really don’t remember, do you?” His lips puckered and his eyes looked wistful as confusion clouded my brain.

“Remember what?”

He sucked in a breath before waving me off. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Are you talking about the concert? Of course I remember the concert.”

He tapped his fingers against the table, and looked away. “Yeah. The concert.”

“You’re weird.” I stuffed another

bite of bread into my mouth, already feeling much more in control of my senses and less affected by the alcohol from earlier. I finished off the rest of my water just to be safe, and left my second whiskey sour untouched.

“Yeah? Well, you’re the one at dinner with me.”

“Not by choice.” The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them.

Shit.

The spoon he’d been fiddling with dropped to the tabletop and clanged against it, the sound cutting through my eardrums. “Wait. What did you just say?” Walker’s tone tightened instantly, no longer amused or flirtatious.

Anxious energy swirled in the pit of my belly as I thought about not answering at all. Shoot. I needed to fix this, but how?

“Madison. You said you weren’t here by choice. What does that mean?”

I met his eyes and answered honestly. “My boss made me come tonight.”

“He what? Why the fuck would he do that?”

The anger and hurt in his voice stirred up my sympathies, and I fought off the urge to wrap my arms around him and tell him I didn’t mean it.

“Because,” I said lamely, pausing as I tried to think up a good lie. I went with the easiest response. “I don’t know.”

He narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at me. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t fucking lie to me, Madison.”

It was a demeaning and infuriating thing, to be pointed at. “Don’t point at me!” I snapped as he looked down at his finger before pulling it back, his face still hard.

I’d always prided myself on my personal integrity, but this was a new low for me. In this moment I was no better than my boss, or any of the other assholes in the entertainment industry who did shady things to get ahead.

“He wants you to sign with him, okay? He heard you were looking for an agent and he wants it to be him.” I looked away from him, instead focusing on the patterns in the grain of the wood tabletop.

“Is that why you’re here?” he bit out, his tone sounding angry and confused, and maybe a little bit betrayed.

“Yes,” I admitted with a huff, my involvement in this situation making me feel like a total dirtbag.

“Did you come here tonight for any other reason?”

“No,” I answered, my gaze still locked on the table.

“Tell me something then, Madison.” He practically sneered my name, as if saying it caused a bad taste to form in his mouth. I didn’t have to see him to imagine the disgusted look that must have been on his face. “If your boss hadn’t made you come here tonight, would you have come on your own?”

I didn’t know if it was because his pointing at me had pissed me off, or if the way he practically spat my name did, but my answer was brutal in its simplicity. “No.”


Tags: J. Sterling The Celebrity Romance