* * *
I hear shouting inside Hunter’s office. When I reach for the door, I find it locked. Unusual. My heart is in my throat when I realize he’s shouting at Charlie.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hunter demands. “If you needed help, you should have come to me.”
“You have enough on your plate,” Charlie counters. “He made it sound like a really good deal.”
“Of course he did. Walton’s the Devil incarnate. What did he promise you? Two, three years interest free?”
“Five, actually.”
“Oh,good,” Hunter seethes. “And when you were unable to pay him back, what then?”
“I would have figured it out.”
“Charlie, my man, I’m going to say what I’m about to say because I like you: you’re a fucking idiot.”
Things get very quiet. Still. Is their argument over? I back away from the door, the air burning in my lungs. I shouldn’t be listening. Whatever this is, it’s none of my business, but…
The door whips open. Charlie storms out and nearly knocks me to the ground. I step out of the way just in time to avoid a head-on collision.
“Sorry, Eden,” he murmurs. He doesn’t stop to explain, doesn’t bother with the usual friendly chit chat. Charlie trudges off, a rectangular slip of paper in his hand.
I step into the office and find Hunter in his seat, nursing a glass of whiskey. I’ve never seen him in such a disheveled state. His shirt’s untucked, his collar unbuttoned, his tie loose. Sitting open on his desk is a checkbook.
“What was all that about?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“It didn’tsoundlike nothing.”
“Please, Eden. Not today.”
“Who’s Jack Walton?”
“A man you don’t ever want to cross paths with.”
“The same way you, Charlie, and Dad did?”
“Enough,” he snaps, setting his glass down. “We have more important things to worry about.”
“Such as?”
“Lilliana Eschette. The actress we want to play Juliet. Her agents called me an hour ago. She’s backing out of the offer.”
I frown. “Why? It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“That’s what I said,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Apparently, she’s taking some time away to be with family. Now we have to pivot and see if our second choice is willing to take up the mantle.”
I swallow thickly. “And who exactly is your second choice?”
Hunter stares at me. I stare right back. A lightbulb flicks on inside my skull, the realization hitting me like a tidal wave.
“No,” I mumble. “Seriously,her?”
“Annabeth was a fine Juliet.”
“Fine and perfect are two very different things.”