“How is Florence?” The low, soft voice caught me off-guard.

Looking up, I found my co-star, Alice, standing by the table where I’d gone to eat my lunch—and maybe grab a ten-minute nap.

She looked a little less nervous today. Actually, she’d been looking less nervous for each day we made it through shooting without any major disaster, so that was progress.

“She’s doing better.” Gesturing to the empty seat across from me, I straightened up and tried to push the clouds out of my head. I wasn’t sleeping worth shit, but I realized the nap wasn’t going to happen. Florence’s accident had made the news of course, and I’d had to dodge the cameras going in to see her twice this week. “Do you know her?”

Alice smiled and shrugged. “A little. She helped me find my agent.”

“Are you with Peter?”

“Oh, no!” Her eyes widened and immediately she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. That sounded terribly rude of me.”

I laughed. “It’s okay. Peter can be pretty…” I started to say intense, then stopped. “Well, he can be pretty terrible.” I’d been dodging calls from him for a couple of weeks, and knew that wouldn’t last for much longer. Especially since there had been a couple of pictures that had caught me walking into the hospital with Maya.

Speculation was already running rampant, and a few sharp-eyed reporters had already run stories about the strange reappearance of my missing fiancé. No doubt Peter was getting calls about her. Several had come in at the studio, but the publicity folks had handled them.

“Do you think she’ll really be okay?” Alice asked, hope shining in her eyes.

It made her look impossibly young.

And that thought made me feel impossibly old, even though I was probably only a few years older than her. She’d been a latecomer here in Hollywood, discovered just last year by a director while he’d been on vacation in Florida.

She still had that naivety to her. I could understand why Florence had taken her under her wing. Florence used to be the same way.

I’d never been naïve. Not about Hollywood, at least.

She had a sweet smile, and the concern for Florence was real. Too many of the people I’d met, even in passing, managed to fake real relationships that went about as deep as a rain puddle.

“Florence has dealt with a lot of things in her life,” I said. “If she can survive those, I don’t think a car wreck is going to keep her down.”

Relief washed over her features.

But it faded away a moment later as her eyes drifted over my shoulder. “Oh. Um…I think he’s looking for you,” she murmured. Her throat worked as she swallowed.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Peter bearing down on me.

Alice slid out of the booth, her smile going tight. “I should probably go. I need to go over my lines more. I’m always afraid I’ll forget something.”

I doubted that. She probably knew my lines.

She was several feet away by the time Peter took her seat.

He looked at me, his face red and ruddy, eyes puffy. I recognized the look on his face. It wasn’t too different from a look I used to wear before I’d finally decided I needed to pull myself out of the pit.

“You’re drinking too much,” I said softly.

“I’ve got a couple of clients who are causing more trouble than they’re worth,” He rubbed at his face and I heard the stubble scraping at his palm. “And you’re one of them. You want to know who the other one is?”

I eyed the clock on the wall, wondering if I wanted to even mess with this right now. “You realize I have to be back on set in about ten minutes.”

“I don’t give a shit.” Peter leaned in. “I got you this fucking role. I got you every fucking role in your life, and you pay me back by lying to me. By throwing the opportunities I’ve given you in my face.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Kimberly lost a role because of you, Glenn.” Peter slammed his fist down on the table. “She had an audition this morning, and was so upset about you and Maya, she kept missing her lines. Finally, the director told her to take a break and try again. Somebody asked her about how things were between you two and she broke down. Right there, right in front of the director.”

“Broke down?” I laughed. “You mean she lost her temper and let him have it.”

Peter’s face went red and he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “Don’t you understand what you’re throwing away? I hand-wrapped and delivered the perfect Hollywood romance. People think a couple that’s never had it wrong or rough or what the hell—that’s boring. People like the underdog. You two are perfect.” Then he shook his head. “You were. You went and threw it away for a bitch who threw you away.”

“What?” I stiffened, everything he’d said falling by the wayside once those words came out.

“Don’t play the fool with me. I know about Maya! You’re seeing her again!” Peter hit the table again, his fist slamming on it so hard it set my tray and glass to rattling.

“And what does that matter to you?” Pissed off, I slid out of the seat. As I went to turn my tray over to the cafeteria staff, I noticed that the room had emptied. Sometime since Peter had come in, more than half a dozen people had trickled out. They must have seen the same thing on his face that Alice had seen.

Of course, he wasn’t making any attempt to hide it.

“What does it matter?” He gaped at me like I’d just sprung a second head, or started to levitate. “How can you stand there and ask me what it matters? Did you forget how you spent the past couple of years? A year ago you didn’t think you’d ever even work again.”

“No.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I met his gaze. “I didn’t care if I’d ever work again. I didn’t care if I got out of bed, if I even woke up. It took a long time to get past that. I’m past that. I was past that even before Maya came back.”

It wasn’t until I said those words out loud that I realized they were true.

It was a startling realization, especially to have it right there in the middle of what was probably going to be an epic argument with my manager. It was an understanding I’d needed to come to, though.

“You're not getting the point,” Peter snarled. “You’re finally getting your career back on track. People are excited about you again—hell, they’re more excited now than they were before. You’re not just the kid of some Hollywood star anymore. You’re a legend in your own right, one who fell from the sky and pulled himself back up. And Kimberly…shit, Glenn! The two of you were on track to be the next golden couple.”

“Me and Kimberly?” That had me laughing. “That barracuda? She doesn’t want to be part of a couple. She wants a man on her arm that will be almost as pretty as she is—somebody she can brush off when she feels like she needs the spotlight for herself. I was perfect there for a while, since I’m tired of the spotlight. I never liked it much anyway. But the only place she looks good is in the spotlight. Outside of it, she’s a snake in a silk dress.”

“What does it matter?” Peter waved his hands, his agitation worsening. “The public was eating it up! And it’s not like you two don’t have chemistry. It sizzles off you both.”

“Chemistry.” Disgusted, I shook my head. “Yeah, I suppose there was some chemistry. I bet black widows have chemistry with the mates they choose—you know what happens after the female is done with the male, right?”

“First she’s a snake. Now you’re calling her a spider.” Peter jabbed a finger in my direction. “You spent an awful lot of time with her and never had any complaints.”

“I had plenty of complaints. You just weren’t around. In case you didn’t notice, we only ever spent time together when there was some sort of publicity stunt.” Shooting a look at the clock, I gestured toward the door. “Are we done? I’ve got to get back to the set.”

“No, I’m not done!” Peter threw out his arms. “You gotta get back to the set…Glenn, you wouldn’t have even gotten this role if I hadn’t stuck my neck out for you.”

Narrowing my eyes, I bit down on my inner cheek. He had a point there. The director hadn’t even wanted to let me audition. He hadn’t wanted to give me the role, either. But the producers had loved me. In the end, I got here because Pete had wheedled me through the door—but it was my talent and hard work that ensured I stayed here. “You got me the audition. That doesn’t mean you did the work, Pete. I did that.”

“I did a hell of a lot more than get you a chance to read a fucking script.” Looking betrayed, he shook his head. “The past few years, as far as you sunk, I’ve been there for you. Haven’t I always been there? When that viper disappeared, left you dragging so low, I was there to help pull you out of that pit. And now here I am, trying to keep you from falling in again—and all that witch has to do is twitch her ass and instantly, you’re hooked.”

Gritting my teeth, I spoke through the fury—somehow. “That’s enough. You’re going to stop talking about Maya like that, you got me?”

“What the fuck?” He shoved his hands through his hair and spun around, walked a few paces before turning back to me. “She’s already done it again, hasn’t she? Is she that fucking good in bed?”

I had the front of his shirt in my hands before I even realized I’d moved.

“Don’t,” I warned him. “Just…don’t.”

Peter’s face had gone red, eyes wide and startled. “What’s the matter with you?”

I shook him. “What’s the matter with me? Are you stupid?”

“No, but I think you are! Stupid and crazy.” He jerked against my hold, but I wasn’t about to let him go.

If I kept my hands fisted in his shirt, they wouldn’t be able to get around his throat or smash into his face. I’d never really considered myself a violent man—hot-tempered, sure, and I could be an asshole—but hearing him talking about Maya like that brought out something in me I wasn’t sure I knew…or liked.

“Look at yourself,” Peter said, his voice low and cajoling. “She’s making you mean and crazy, Glenn.”

Slowly, I uncurled my fingers, letting go of his shirt. I took a few steps back and then turned away, staring sightlessly at the wall. “She’s not the one making me crazy, Pete. I was always a little bit mean, but that probably slipped your notice because you’re plenty mean yourself.”

Sucking in a breath, I held for a few seconds, then blew it out.

The rage didn’t abate, so I did it again. After a few more repetitions, I could look back at him.

“You’re not going to talk about her like that, you understand me?”

“Man, I don’t get—”

I held up a hand. “I don’t care whether you get it or not. I don’t care what you don’t get. What Maya and I are doesn’t concern you. What Maya and I have doesn’t concern you. You manage my career, not my life.”

I turned to go.

“And when your life falls apart again because of her?” Peter demanded. “What then? You expect me to hang around and pick up the pieces?”

“Oh, horseshit, Pete!” Fed up, I faced him once more. “Your idea of picking up the pieces was to get me another bottle if I was out of booze. You made it easy for me to stay drunk if I was too much of a mess to deal with. It was Florence and Cane who scraped me up of the ground. You paid hush money to the cops so they wouldn’t tell the reporters I’d gotten arrested. They made me stay in jail a time or two so I’d sober up and maybe learn a lesson—and not kill anybody while I was out driving.”

Peter, an offended look on his face, opened his mouth to argue.

I didn’t let him.

“Were you ever there in the morning when I was still so drunk I couldn’t walk? Ever there when I was sick and shaking because I’d decided to stop drinking?”

“I’ve got other clients. I’m not your nursemaid.”

“No. You’re my manager. Stop acting like we’re friends, Pete. You did what you could to hold me together in hopes I’d keep up with my career, and once it got hard, you disappeared. It wasn’t until I got it together that you showed back up.”

“You ungrateful son of a bitch.” One hand clenched into a fist, and part of me wished he’d throw a punch. I’d welcome it.

“I’m not ungrateful. I appreciate the roles you’ve helped me get.” Shaking my head, I gestured to myself. “But that doesn’t entitle you to my personal life—doesn’t entitle you to have a say in who I do or don’t get to spend time with. And for the record, it isn’t going to be Kimberly. Not ever again.”

“Funny how you didn’t have any trouble spending time with her—all sorts of time with her—up until Maya showed up.” The innuendo was unmistakable. “Would be a fucking shame if news of that got out.”

“You don’t want to go there, Pete.” Moving closer to him, I lowered my voice. “You really don’t.”

Something that might have been caution flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared almost as quick.

“Let it go,” I said. “I’m not saddling myself with a woman I can’t stand just because you benefit from it. What’s the deal anyway…some director sell you on the idea of us being in a movie together and how it would add to it if we were really together?”

Peter shrugged. “You know how it works. Fans eat up a Hollywood romance. She’s auditioning for the female lead in your next project. But the producer isn’t happy hearing that you two aren’t together now.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have sold us as a package deal.”

“Mr. Jackson?”

Glancing toward the door, I saw one of the assistants standing there, looking nervous.

“I’m coming, Joey.” Tossing Pete one last look, I said, “Like I’ve already said, I need to get to the set.”

“She’s goin’ to leave you again,” he called out as I walked away. “That whore has already proven she just wants to fuck around on you. What happens the next time? What happens if she comes crawling back knocked up with some other man’s kid? You still going to take her back?”

Ignore him, I told myself. Ignore him.

“Shit, if I’d known she was that good, I would’ve had a taste of her myself when she came crawling through my door looking for you. Next time, I’ll just ask what her price—”

I rushed him, grabbed him and threw him bodily to the floor.

His hoarse shout died in a garbled mess as I twisted, then pinned him, wrapping my forearm around his throat. “I told you,” I said, squeezing each word out. “You’re not talking about her like that.

Crawling back…some other man’s kid…

The baby.

Then, Maya’s voice echoed in my mind, drowning out the roar of blood as it crashed and pulsed.

“Because I’m pregnant!”

“You’re…what…who’s is it?

“It’s yours, Glenn.”

I’d thrown her out.

She’d just told me I was the father of the child she carried, and I’d thrown her out.

“You…fucker…let me…”

Peter’s voice came out in a rasp and abruptly, I let him go, shoving upright.

He lay there, panting. “I’m going to…you…son of a…” After a few seconds, he lurched upright. “I’m going to knock the shit out of you for that, Jackson.”

“Try,” I said, jutting my chin out.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Jackson.” A uniformed security guard stepped in between us, deftly blocking Peter as he was rounding up to come at me.

Adrenaline still roared and raged inside me, the anger demanding a release. Peter, though, in the blink of an eye, underwent a total transformation. He blinked. He smoothed a hand down his tie and flashed a mega-watt smile at the security guard. “Hey there. Everything is fine, son. Just a mild disagreement between me and my client.”

“One that involved wrestling on the floor like a couple of schoolboys?”

That irritated voice came from the doorway and I sighed, lifting my eyes to the exposed metal beams of the ceiling. The director waddled in. I could hear him panting from across the room, and when I shifted my attention to him, he was looking at both of us in disgust. “I knew you’d be trouble, Jackson. I knew it. And you…” He pointed a finger at Peter. “Get the hell out of my studio.”

“Hal…” Peter spread out his hands, turning that charming smile on the director.

Crawford was immune to charm. He was immune to everything that didn’t involve good tobacco, caffeine, food, and women. And while he was prone to lavishing the women he was interested in with extravagant gifts—or so I’d heard—he had a strict line between work and personal life. So Peter was shit out of luck.

“Don’t waste my time, Pete.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket and shoved it between his teeth. “I don't give a damn what kind of problem you’re having with your client. What I care about is that it’s interfering with my schedule. Now get your ass out of my studio.”

A tight silence fell across the room as the guards escorted Peter from the premises.

One by one, the others who’d somehow manifested in the hall or trickled in to watch the show also disappeared. I’d never even noticed any of them come in, I’d been that focused on Peter.

Now it was just Crawford and me, and he was eying the same way he might look at a strange bug. “I know when somebody is having woman troubles.”

“I’m not having woman…troubles.” Hooking my thumbs in the belt loops of my jeans, I gave a one-sided shrug. “Peter is trying to make me have woman troubles, but I’m not dating somebody just because it’s good publicity.”

I was surprised when Crawford laughed.

“Smart kid. Is this shit going to interfere with my movie?” he demanded.

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He jerked a thumb toward the door. “Get your ass out there.”