To say that I hadn't gotten much sleep last night would have been an understatement. When I hadn't been plagued by visions of Savannah's gorgeous body, reminded of her scent and the feel of her skin against mine, I'd been thinking about the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that had come when I recognized her, the way my heart had twisted when her expression had fallen, then hardened. My own hot words echoed in my ears, followed by her icy ones.

I'd spent the last hour staring up at the ceiling, wondering if there was any possible way I could have been wrong. I went through it all in my head again.

She'd never been to Gilded Cage before that first night. I was certain of that. Aside from the fact that I would have recognized her prior to the masquerade, I'd seen the innocence in her eyes when she walked into that room with me. She hadn't been a virgin, and she hadn't been completely unaware of what the point of the room had been, but she was a newcomer to the life, that much had been clear.

Was I supposed to think it had been a coincidence that she'd come to see me, and then shown up at the club and come straight to me? I wasn't an idiot. She had to have known, somehow, that I would be there. Had to have recognized me. It couldn't have been random, and I refused to believe it was something like destiny or some shit like that. That kind of fantasy wasn't real. Instant lust, sure. I could agree to that. Hell, I'd been attracted to Savannah from that first moment. Maybe she picked up on that and then somehow figured out where I would be.

It wasn't cynical, to think that she'd gone to the club to look for me, to dig up dirt that she could use in her article. My friends and I had chosen Gilded Cage for its discretion. People were more accepting of this sort of thing, but none of the four of us wanted to be pushed into the limelight. We understood the importance of media, but that didn't mean we wanted to see our personal lives splashed all over it. The Heart of Art liked to regard itself as above tawdry celebrity news that other publications promoted, but they still had to get people to buy their magazine, and some salacious details would do that.

I never should have agreed to do the fucking interview in the first place. I'd never done more than answer a couple questions before, but I'd agreed to do this show to raise awareness and funds for a great cause, which meant I couldn't simply fly below the radar. So, I'd agreed to talk to the press, to do what I could to promote both the show and the sponsoring charity.

But I hadn't seen Savannah coming. Not as a reporter, and certainly not as a lover.

No. She wasn't a lover.

Just someone I had sex with twice.

Even if she didn't have any ulterior motives, that's all she'd ever be. And I still didn't believe that she was innocent in all this.

I had to know.

It was that thought that got me out of bed. As I showered, I thought out exactly how I was going to find the truth. I knew her magazine was legitimate, and I didn't doubt for a moment that she really had been assigned to write a story on me and a critique on the show. Which meant I didn't need to dig into that, but rather look into who she was talking to and what she'd learned about me.

My first calls after I dressed were to the guys. I didn't think they'd be spilling any of my secrets, but I'd told them about the interview, so if Savannah had spoken with them, they probably wouldn't have completely blown her off. Except all three of them said they hadn't answered any questions for anyone about me.

So, if she wasn't talking to them, she had to be doing some digging elsewhere. And I knew of at least one person who'd be more than willing to tell all for whatever cash offered.

Fuck.

I had to call my mother.

The phone rang twice before she picked up. "Jace? Sweetie?"

I closed my eyes and mentally cursed Savannah for one more thing to make my day suck. "Hi, Mom."

"I haven't heard from you in ages, sweetie. Is everything okay?"

I almost laughed. She was the last person I'd go to if things were bad. Well, maybe next-to-last. I wasn't calling her because I needed a shoulder to cry on – that would never happen.

"I'm doing a show." I wasn't about to do the small talk, pretend we're a real mother and son thing. "For charity, so I'm not getting any money for anything."

"I'd love to come–"

"That's not why I called." I closed my eyes, unable to imagine seeing her again. "There's a reporter who's writing a piece about me and I was wondering if she got in touch with you."

Silence for several long seconds, and I could almost hear the wheels in her head turning.

"I'm sure you don't want the past taking away from everything you're trying to accomplish."

It didn't take a genius to know where she was going with this. In fact, considering my mother's history, an idiot would've been able to figure out what she wanted.

"Has she talked to you or not?"

"No." She sounded almost disappointed.

"If she does, let me know." I gritted my teeth. "Maybe the two of us could discuss it over dinner some time."

"That would be wonderful." The cheery note in her voice told me that she knew exactly what I'd offer her if she kept her mouth shut.

"Thanks, Mom." I quickly continued before she could start talking again, "I have to go, but don't forget to contact me if someone calls asking questions."

I hung up as soon as she agreed and let out a breath. As far as conversations with my mother went, that one actually hadn't been that bad. It was possible that Savannah wouldn't be able to find the woman who had given me life but little else. There'd been more than a few years where I'd gone almost eighteen months or more without knowing where she was.

There was one other person I knew who wouldn't think twice about spilling everything she knew about me...including the fact that I went to Gilded Cage. And she was the only person I knew of who I wanted to talk to less than my mother.

I didn't have her number in my phone, but I didn't need it. I'd dialed it often enough that my fingers still remembered the pattern, even when I wished they didn't.

"I wondered when you'd be calling." Bianca was practically purring when she answered. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

I was glad she couldn't see the look of distaste on my face at the thought of going back to her. No matter how pissed I was at Savannah, I wouldn't let it drive me back into Bianca's arms. I couldn't, however, handle the situation as bluntly as I wanted. I needed to keep Bianca on the phone long enough to find out what I needed to know.

So I ignored her comments and went straight to the point. "Since you've been back, has anyone been asking questions about me? About our prior relationship?"

I could almost hear her smile.

"Why, Jay, have you gone and gotten yourself into trouble? I told you no good would come of your sexual...preferences. Did you beat some poor, unsuspecting girl and she didn't enjoy it?"

As if Bianca hadn't already been involved in the life when we met. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that blowing up at Bianca would just make matters worse. "You and I both know that's not how things work." I let out a slow breath. "But that's not why I called. With this show coming up, I want all of the focus to be on the cause rather than on anything a reporter might dig up. Has anyone contacted you?"

When she took a moment to answer, I was struck by how similar Bianca and my mother were, and how much of an idiot I'd been for dating someone so vapid and shallow.

"There was someone in the lobby of my building yesterday who chatted me up about local artists. When I said I knew you, she seemed really interested."

Shit.

"What did you tell her?" I had to force the question to come out far less harshly than I wanted.

"Nothing, of course." Bianca sounded offended, but I knew her well enough to know how much she was enjoying this. "She was bound and determined to get me to talk though, so I doubt she gave up. I wouldn't be surprised if she showed up at your studio, or even the club."

My back stiffened. "Did you tell her about the club?"

"I don't think so, but she was persistent. I couldn't say that she hasn't found out about it on her own. I'd watch yourself, if I were you. Or maybe just avoid the club for a while until she gets tired of trying to track you down."

Fuck.

I barely heard anything else Bianca said, unable to stop all of the negative emotions inside me from boiling into a fury. I shouldn't have been surprised that Savannah had used me like that. Very few people weren't out for only themselves. I thought she was different, and it was that mistake that made my hands clench.

I wasn't going to take this quietly. Come Monday morning, I'd make sure she never fucked with me again.