James and I sat next to each other in the third row from the stage in the Dolby Theatre in Hollywood. Tonight was the Oscars, and she had been nominated for her work in Ralph Anderson’s film. I had known she was going to catch the attention of the Academy. Her performance in Black Season was outstanding, better than any of us could have anticipated. And Ralph was so pleased, he wanted to cast her again.

She didn’t know that yet.

I wanted her to get through tonight before I gave her that news.

Knowing we were getting close to the presentation of the award, I reached across her lap and held her hand. She squeezed my fingers, and I saw two TV cameras move in front of where we were sitting. That was so they could get a shot of James’s face when her name was announced as a nominee.

The host introduced a guest presenter, and an actor walked onstage, who had been James’s costar in the film.

He held an envelope in his hand and waited for the audience to quiet before he read from the teleprompter. “The nominees for Best Actress in a Motion Picture—Drama are James Ryne, Black Season.”

The screen behind the podium showed a scene from the movie where James was in bed. She had no makeup on, her hair was wild, the blanket was falling from her body, and the clothes she had on underneath were tattered.

“She can’t do this to me!” James screamed. “She can’t hurt me anymore. I won’t let her. I won’t let her take my family.” Tears streamed from her eyes. Spit soaked her lips.

The shot zoomed out, and the audience applauded right before her costar announced the next nominee.

I saw the red light flashing from the camera, signaling it was on and filming, and I knew there was a chance my face would be shown on TV. I didn’t have a problem with it. Our relationship had been public for almost a year. James and I had walked many red carpets together, like the one we’d been on tonight, and we’d been photographed all over the world.

I wanted everyone to know that the gorgeous girl sitting to my left was mine. And I was so fucking proud of her.

“And the Oscar goes to…”

I squeezed her hand again.

“James Ryne, Black Season.”

“Brett…” she whispered.

She turned toward me, her mouth open, shock filling her beautiful face. I continued to hold her hand, and I got up to help her stand. Right before she walked away, she leaned in and kissed me. Then, she made her way up the stairs and hugged her costar before she went over to the podium.

“Wow, I didn’t expect this, and because of that, I didn’t write anything down.” I heard the emotion in her voice, and then she paused. “To my fellow nominees, women who are so incredibly talented, thank you for being such an inspiration to my career.” Her chest rose as she took a breath. “Ralph Anderson, thank you for taking a chance on me. For giving me the role of my dreams, for mentoring me, and for helping me become the actress I am today.” She glanced up toward the ceiling. “For my parents, whom I lost far too soon, I hope you’re looking down on me and I’m making you proud.” She gazed into the audience again. “To the team of actors and actresses and the production staff and everyone who was involved in the making of this movie, I certainly couldn’t have done this without you.” She searched the rows of seats until our eyes met. “To my team—Tim, Eve, all the wonderful people at The Agency, and to my agent, Brett Young.”

She smiled at me, and my fucking heart beat so goddamn hard.

“Brett, I love you so much. The best thing I ever did was sign with you.”

She thanked the crowd and the Academy and grinned one last time.

As she was escorted offstage, I watched her ass. It looked so fucking sexy in that dress. I had a feeling I’d be fucking it in between after-parties tonight. There was no way in hell I could wait until we got back to The Agency’s condo.

The music began to play throughout the room, which told all the attendees the network was taking a commercial break, and my phone immediately started blowing up. I grabbed it from the inside pocket of my tux and checked the screen.

I did as Max had asked, scanning the rows behind me until I saw him and Eve toward the back. I waved at them and checked my phone again as it vibrated.

I leaned to the side of my chair and took out my wallet, reaching into the front section where I kept the small piece of paper.

Those were the words written on it, and they had come from Jack. He’d given me that note when James came into our conference room for the very first time and told us what had happened in Malibu. Back then, I’d stared at the sheet for several seconds, wondering if he was right. And then, slowly, I’d made eye contact with James. That was when I’d kicked everyone out and had my one-on-one with her.

James knew about the piece of paper because, on the night I’d proposed to her, I’d slipped it through the ring, and both had sat in the middle of my hand as I got down on one knee.

The ring was now on her finger, but the paper would always stay with me.