I returned to the office the following morning after only a few hours of sleep, arriving before my team so that I could get more work done. Before I came in, I’d spent an hour hitting the bag at the gym. Sixty fucking minutes, and I still hadn’t gotten all the anger out.

I’d never been so wrong about a girl.

And last night’s celebrity alert had only made it worse. If there were a chance I would have called her before, there was no fucking chance now.

I turned my computer on, and the emails started to come through. My clients filming in Europe were just leaving the set and sending over documents that I’d needed them to sign. The European brands were getting in touch to inquire about some new contracts. New York was already filming, and there were set issues and no-shows. And I had a client complaining about things that hadn’t been delivered at their photo shoot. And, as I was looking at images of one of my actors who had gotten hurt on set, there was a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I said, glancing up from my computer screen, knowing it was the guys and Scarlett, meeting about The Agency’s sixth-anniversary party that we were hosting in a few months.

They all walked in with coffees in their hands and took their seats around my desk.

Scarlett hadn’t told the guys about our conversation last night. I was sure she hadn’t even told them she came to my place. That was how we all worked; some shit was meant to be shared between all four of us, and some just wasn’t.

“Dude, you missed a hell of a show last night,” Max said.

“I heard it was good,” I replied. “Sorry I had to bail. I just had too much to do.”

“You know I understand that,” Max said, picking up one of the contracts on my desk to check out the first few pages.

“How’s this morning been so far?” Scarlett asked me, looking as tired as I felt.

I shook my head. “Fucking crazy. You wouldn’t even believe some of the bullshit going on. I might need to fly to New York tonight; I have a client in the hospital.”

“Which one?” Jack asked.

“Larry,” I said. “He fell off a balcony when they were filming on the second story of a hotel. Broken collarbone, both wrists shattered, and he needs surgery immediately.”

“Jesus Christ,” Max said. “Have you heard from his family?”

“They’re flying there now.”

“Let me know if he’s all right,” Jack said.

“Let all of us know,” Scarlett said.

I nodded and heard another knock on my door. “Come in,” I said a second time.

My assistant popped her head in.

“What’s up?”

She looked at the guys and at Scarlett before her attention turned toward me. “Sorry to interrupt, but you have some visitors.”

“Who?”

“James Ryne and her manager, Tim Thomas, are downstairs in reception. Since they weren’t listed on your schedule, the receptionist wouldn’t send them upstairs, so she called me. They know they don’t have an appointment, but they’re requesting to see you as soon as possible.”

My teeth ground so fucking hard, I heard my jaw crack. “What do they want?”

“They wouldn’t say when the receptionist asked. But, from my understanding, they just flew in and came straight here from the airport.”

I was holding the armrests of my chair, squeezing them with all my strength, waiting for them to snap off.

Why would James come here? All the way to Miami? With her fucking manager?

It had nothing to do with what had happened between us, or she wouldn’t have brought Tim.

She had come because she needed my help, or Tim was the one who had pushed for it. Either way, she’d figured out I was an agent and not a practicing attorney.

It didn’t matter. There was no way in hell I was going to give my assistant the okay to send them upstairs.

I was done with James Ryne.

“They don’t have an appointment. Tell them I’m busy,” I said.

“Hold on,” Jack said to my assistant before he looked at me. “Are you fucking crazy? So what if she doesn’t have an appointment? She flew all the way here to talk to you, and you’re just going to send that kind of business away? Do you know how much money that girl makes every year?”

“Made,” I corrected him.

From what I’d read this morning, she’d lost all of her contracts and both upcoming movies.

No one wanted to hire her.

“With your help, she’ll get all of it back,” Max said.

He’d obviously read the reports, too.

It was hard not to.

James was the headline on every fucking news source right now.

“I’m not interested,” I told them.

Max looked at Scarlett and said, “What’s his problem? Has he lost his goddamn mind?”

Her eyes shifted over to me, and I knew she was in a rough place. She wanted like hell to tear into me, but she’d never do that in front of the guys, not when they didn’t know about James and me.

“Brett, if you don’t take the meeting, I’m going to,” Jack said.

I tried to hold my anger in. “No, you’re not.”

“Like hell I’m not,” he said. “That girl needs some fucking help, and I don’t know why you’re not willing to do it, but I will. Remember, the reason we walked away from those assholes in LA—like the one who represents her—is because, no matter how hard things got, we would never turn our back on a client. So, at the very least, someone from this office is going to give her some guidance. If you want to pass, then I’ll make an exception, and I’ll work hybrid until I get her back on her feet.”

I stood, moving over to the bar, realizing it was far too fucking early to pour anything to drink. They were all watching me. Even my assistant.

My interest in James was becoming more obvious every goddamn second.

“You wouldn’t do that,” I told Jack. “You wouldn’t cross teams. None of us would ever do that.”

“Brett, please—”

“Scarlett,” Max said, cutting her off, “you’re going to be too nice. Let me take a stab at him.” Max glared at me. “You’re right; we don’t cross teams, and none of us have ever gone hybrid, but we’ve also never been in a situation where someone needs our help, and they’re willing to come all the way here to get it. I’ll admit, acting isn’t a language I speak, certainly not fluently like you. But I’m not going to turn the girl down either. So, whatever you have against James Ryne, get over it, and get your shit together.”

My jaw clenched, and my fingers gripped the bar.

I fucking hated that my friends were getting involved in this. I wanted them to stay out of it; I wanted this decision to be mine.

I wanted James to get back in her plane and return to where she belonged.

“You’ve certainly taken on harder cases than a sex tape, so what the hell is your deal?” Jack said.

My eyes moved to each of their faces as they waited for me to respond.

“Brett, just hear what they have to say,” Max added.

It was the same request Scarlett had made last night.

Back then, neither of us had known that we’d be faced with this today.

And, now, here James was, right at my fucking feet.

“Send them into the conference room,” I told my assistant.

And she shut the door behind her.

“I think the four of us should sit in on this meeting,” Jack said.

They all glanced at me, waiting for a response.

It took me a few seconds to give them one. “Well then, by all fucking means, let’s get this show on the road.”