On that note, Austin walked around the chair. “I’ll show you both out.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sloan, for your cooperation.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” I replied emotionlessly.
“Wow.” Amelia clapped behind me, stepping out of the bedroom, with only her damn robe on, her damp brown hair shifted to one side. “And the award for being the biggest asshole—”
“They deserve it,” I replied, walking to her, and pulling the rope of her robe until her body was pressed up against mine, the scent of vanilla and honey filling my nose. Damn, she is beautiful, was all I could think. When I lifted her head up, my face was reflected in her blue eyes. “Good morning.”
“You do realize the colder you are to them, the longer you are on their shit list,” Austin said behind me.
“Seriously,” I groaned, looking back to him. Amelia giggled, wrapping her arm around my waist.
Ignoring us both, he turned on the television.
“Thank you, Katie, for that weather forecast. Now over to Andrew Thomson, coming to us live from South Lawndale.”
“Thank you, Jeffery. I am standing only feet away from this apartment right in the heart of the Little Village where the manhunt for the notorious drug runner, Frank Joseph Sloan, who was caught on camera shooting at police in Monday’s massive bust, has revved up as the body of one of his possible accomplices was just found early this morning when neighbors reported a horrible stench coming for the complex above them ... father of the former child star and actor Noah Sloan, police have doubled the reward for any information leading to an arrest.”
“Turn it off!” I snapped angrily, stepping away from Amelia. “I need to find him. I need—”
“You need to prepare for the interview I set up for today,” Austin said, cutting me off.
“You did what?”
“You. Dalila Alexandra. Sixty unfiltered minutes of you telling the world all about yourself.”
He had lost his mind. “Austin, my father—”
“He will get caught. This will all resolve itself. You are not a bounty hunter. You are not a cop. You are an actor. An actor who, I will remind you, has a blockbuster movie coming out, but instead of that, they are connecting your name to that of a criminal. I shouldn’t need to connect the dots for you. You need to go on television and tell the world exactly what you told those cops. Frank is your estranged father. Your actions are in no way connected to his, and you are a morally right, upstanding human being who they should not have any issues supporting in theaters.”
“Austin…” My voice trailed off as I tried to think of something to say, but I had nothing.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll be there—” Amelia started.
“No, you will not,” Austin, once again stepped in. He was apparently on a power trip this morning. “You, Amelia London, are also an actress, not Noah’s sidekick. You are not playing the role of the faithful girlfriend today. Not only will it look like Noah can’t stand on his two feet without you, but also because people are going to get fucking tired of seeing your faces together before the movie comes out. You are Amelia. He is Noah. You are a couple. But you both are enterprises in your own rights. You want to help him, Amelia, then we need more of what you did last night. I need you to be Amelia London, the Oscar-winning actress. So you are not going to be anywhere near him today. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” she muttered, wide-eyed, a small grin growing wider and wider on her face.
“Beautiful. Since you two managed to get out of bed this morning at a respectable hour, we can get a jump on things. Amelia, get dressed,” he said before focusing on me. “And you—eat something and shave before the makeup crew arrives. I scheduled this thing for early this afternoon on the patio of the penthouse. I want you looking strong, assertive, and healthy.”
He stretched the last part as he stole my cigarettes.
“Nothing is going to change if I don’t smoke for a few hours.”
“We will see,” he replied, checking through his phone. “Chop chop.”
“He’s a slave driver, but he’s right,” Amelia giggled, kissing my check.
I know. That’s what made him so goddamn annoying.
Amelia
Taking a seat in the back of the Mercedes, I wanted to high-five him. “Austin, you were amazing. And for a second, you had even me believing I had something planned for today.”
“You do,” he said, for some reason sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Where is Daniel?”