I woke up about three seconds before I lurched forward and vomited on a rug that had seen better days.

A rug that I didn’t recognize.

Where was I, and why did I feel like I had cotton stuffed in my head?

“Hey there, sexy sleepy.”

I knew that voice, and it wasn’t one I wanted to hear. “Mitzi?”

As the haze cleared, the memories of earlier today started to come back. Coming to see Chester. Mitzi being here. The drugs. The alcohol.

But I hadn’t taken anything, so why did I feel like I’d spent the last few hours partying?

“What the hell happened today?” I frowned, searching through the haze of my memory. “It is still today, right?”

She shrugged and took a puff on a half-burnt joint. “No clue.”

I pushed up from the couch and immediately grabbed the arm as a wave of dizziness washed over me. “What…fuck…”

“You need to loosen up.” She threw a cigarette butt at me.

I ignored her. My stomach was still rolling a bit, and my head was starting to hurt. My mouth tasted like…well, like puke.

I reached for my bottle of water. There was barely a mouthful left, but it’d be enough to rinse out my mouth before I grabbed another one. I tossed the cap onto the table and had the bottle halfway to my mouth when I stopped. Mitzi was watching me, her attention locked in on my hand.

The hand holding my bottle of water.

The water that I’d left on the table when I’d gone to the bathroom earlier.

I hadn’t gotten there before, but I was there now. I lowered my hand. “Did you put something in my water?”

She gave me a guilty little smirk I recognized from when we were together. “Chester did it.”

I looked around. “Where is he?”

“Not here.” She stretched lazily, her shirt riding up to show her flat stomach.

A vague memory of that stomach, of bare breasts, drifted across my mind. Why? I hadn’t seen her naked since that night when I’d caught her being double-teamed by two overweight, sweaty bastards with bad hygiene.

“What the hell did you give me?” I tossed the bottle toward the overflowing trash can, ignoring it when it missed.

“Not me,” she insisted. “Chester.”

“I don’t give a fuck who actually drugged me! What was it?!”

“Just some Valium.” She scowled at me. “Because you needed to chill out.”

I stumbled into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, then found some mouthwash and used the rest of the bottle to at least fix that problem. When I made my way back out, Mitzi had stripped down to her thong and was dancing on the couch.

“I’m out of blow,” she announced in a sing-song voice that pounded on my last nerve. “Go get me more.”

I stared at her for a moment, but not because she was almost naked. It was like I was seeing her for the first time. “You need to get some help, Mitzi. Living like this is going to kill you.”

“Pfft.” She flapped her hands at me. “Go get me blow and I’ll blow you.” She cackled, clearly pleased with herself. “No one else’ll be doing it now. Not after the story comes out.”

I frowned at her. “What story?”

She bounced off the couch and came to stand in front of me. “The one Chester’s selling to make you look like less of a pussy.”

“What are you talking…”

More memories came forward. Memories of Mitzi on my lap. Touching me. Kissing me. The taste of pot and tobacco on my lips. Then, something else. Something I couldn’t quite remember but had a feeling was important.

“He got lots of good pictures and even some video for TV news. We’re gonna be headlines.”

I tried to process her words, tried to make sense of why the manager I’d trusted for so long would set me up like this. No understanding dawned.

“Why the hell would he do that? I’m supposed to be getting good press now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll. People just wanna see their stars do some penance, and public flogging isn’t really a thing.” She sneered at me. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you were into that though.”

I suddenly felt sick again, but this time it wasn’t anything physical. “Did we–?”

I couldn’t finish the question, and even though I knew I needed to know the answer, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

She gave me a coy look. “You could watch the video.”

She was right. I could find all of the answers I needed by getting to Chester before he imploded things.

“Or you could ask that prude bitch of yours.”

I stopped mid-step, the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. No, no, that wasn’t…I closed my eyes. Very slowly, I turned back to her, needing confirmation to what I already knew. “Explain.”

* * *

Shit, shit, shit, shit…

The professional part of me had wanted to go straight for Chester, stop him from taking things public, but it had been barely a moment’s consideration. Everything else in me had been screaming to get to Paige and set things straight. What she thought about me meant more than anyone else’s opinion. I needed her to know that whatever she’d seen, it hadn’t been me. I hadn’t chosen to do any of it.

It was late enough that I went straight to her apartment and prayed that she’d agree to talk to me.

“Paige, it’s me. Please let me come up. We need to talk.”

She buzzed me in without a word, but at least she hadn’t ignored me. When I got to her door, I knocked and braced myself. After a moment, I heard the locks turning, and then the door opened.

“Come in.”

Any hope I’d felt disappeared at the ice in her words.

I glanced at her as I walked past. She was in a pair of loose flannel pants and a camisole, her hair wet and braided. And her face was completely blank. I scrubbed my hand over my chin, and then up into my hair, scowling at the feel of it.

I didn’t even want to think about what had been on that couch.

“Everything you think I did, I didn’t do,” I blurted out, unable to figure out any other way to approach the subject.

Her jaw tightened, as did her spine. I could feel her anger and revulsion radiating off her in waves. “Staying clean and sober was part of our deal. I can’t do my job if you don’t do what I ask. I’ll meet with Sybil tomorrow to move your account over to her, and she can handle things from there.”

“I don’t want anyone else working with me,” I said. Then I shook my head. “You know what, I don’t care about any of that. I just care about you knowing that I didn’t do what–”

“I heard you,” she snapped, her eyes still angry and something else…wounded. “But I know what I saw.”

“But you don’t know what happened before that.”

She raised an eyebrow as she folded her arms. “I saw the booze and the joints and all the rest of that shit. And I saw your girlfriend grinding on you with her tits hanging out. Doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

Okay, not so cold anymore. She was pissed, but I preferred that to the possibility that she didn’t feel anything for me at all.

“I swear to you, Paige, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Something in me snapped. I moved toward her, backing her against the door. “Like hell it doesn’t.”

And then I kissed her.