Finding out about Tommy was easy. He’d made quite a name for himself while she’d been missing.
Getting ahold of him was another matter entirely. He’d recently moved into a swanky new building that was too risky to even try to approach. So Madison took a chance and called the PR department at his record company. Posing as a reporter for Rolling Stone, she was surprised to learn he already had an interview scheduled that day with a writer named Dahlia. For the first time in a long time, it seemed the universe was working in her favor. She asked if they could move the meeting up a few hours, and just like that, it was done. Clearly, Tommy was eager to make it happen. Madison wondered what he would think once he discovered what she really had in store for him.
Despite her determination to put her plan into action, Madison wasn’t fully convinced it would result in the desired outcome. Still, she was in desperate need of a friend. And since no one qualified outside of Paul, she was left with no choice but to go after one of the very people who stood to benefit from her discovery the most. She just hoped she could convince Tommy not to reveal her whereabouts before she was ready.
In the end, she’d make it worth his while. Still, there was no guarantee he’d agree.
She roamed the aisles of the record store where the reporter was supposed to meet Tommy, searching for him from behind her dark lenses. Tommy had exactly the kind of lean, sexy look Madison would go for if she wasn’t, well, Madison Brooks. Sure she’d kissed him, and while it’d been fun while it lasted (and while she wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to repeating it), it was little more than a harmless flirtation. Or so she’d thought. The moment she’d gone missing, Tommy hadn’t hesitated to brag about it to just about any tabloid willing to listen.
While she had every intention of confronting him on his eagerness to sell her out, for now she brushed it aside. She needed to stay focused and in character. She took the role as seriously as those she was paid millions of dollars to portray.
She spotted him over in the alternative rock section, where he casually rifled through the stacks as his gaze darted around.
His fingers skipped through a thick row of vinyl until he found something of interest and retrieved it from the pile.
When was the last time she’d actually stalked a guy?
Or, more appropriately, when was the last time she’d had to?
Madison had grown so used to being hunted it was nice to play the predator for a change.
Favoring her bad ankle, she worked her way toward him. No use in pouncing unexpectedly, when it was far more fun to catch his eye from across the room and work a leisurely flirtation until they ultimately found themselves standing next to each other.
Did Tommy like blondes? She tugged at her wig, deciding she’d yet to meet a guy who didn’t.
“Nirvana’s Nevermind?” She nodded toward the album cover. “If you don’t already own it, you should buy it. I guarantee you will not regret it.”
The grin he gave her was nothing short of dazzling. He pulled his lips wide, showcasing a display of white teeth straight enough to imply they might’ve once been behind braces—while just crooked enough to suggest he’d lost the retainer a few years back. Madison lingered on those teeth, relieved to find they bore absolutely no resemblance to the overly perfect porcelain veneers of every Hollywood actor she knew. She took it as proof she’d been right about him. Normal teeth, normal guy. She just might be able to trust him after all.
“Are you—?” He cocked his head, hesitating in the way of a guy who didn’t want to be mistaken for flirting. Was he really dating Layla, or was he just trying to appear respectful?
“Dahlia.” She lifted her chin and favored him with a watered-down version of her own world-class grin. “Nice to meet you, Tommy.” She offered a hand, pleased to find he received it firmly in his.
Tommy rubbed his lips together and glanced nervously around the room. “So,” he said, “I’m new at this. Where should we go?”
Madison took a moment to look him over. “Surely you’re no newbie.” She shifted her weight between her flip-flop and her boot. “Not after spending the bulk of the summer as the tabloid king.”
She was pleased by the way he flushed in response. It showed a respectable level of shame for the part that he’d played.
“Not sure I’d refer to Rolling Stone as a tabloid,” he said, barely able to keep the excited gleam from his navy-blue eyes.
Madison felt guilty. Setting him up seemed almost cruel. The next moment, the feeling passed, and she said, “How about we go for a drive?”
Tommy ran an uncertain hand across his chin. A moment later he’d agreed, and they were just leaving the store when his phone began to ring.
He paused in the sunlight and peered at the screen.
Madison hoped it wasn’t someone from his record company, or worse, the actual writer from Rolling Stone.
“If that’s your girlfriend, you might want to get it.” Madison’s voice was peppered with amusement. “This could take a while.”
Tommy shook his head and let the call ring into voice mail. Turning to her, he asked, “Who’s driving?”
Madison studied him. She’d accidentally left her keys with him the night she was taken, only to have her car end up outside Paul’s office with her purse locked in the trunk. Was Tommy somehow responsible?
What she said was, “I ask the questions. You drive.”
She was relieved when he readily agreed. Last thing she needed was to drive Paul’s car for any longer than necessary. He was probably in search of her at that very moment. Hell, for all she knew, the car had probably been outfitted with some kind of tracking device.
A chill skittered across Madison’s flesh. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t bothered to consider that. It was the sort of sloppiness that could bring the whole thing crashing right down. Paul was a pro when it came to deception, which meant Madison couldn’t afford to be anything less than vigilant.
Tommy was staring. She’d been silent too long.
“So where you parked?” she asked, her skin sheening with sweat as he deepened the stare.
“How’d you hurt yourself?” He motioned toward her ankle.
“Balance beam accident.” She shrugged. “It happens.” It was an obvious lie, but at least it worked to make him laugh. “Is that really what you wanted to ask?”
Tommy chewed his lip. “It’s just—”
She waited.
“You remind me of someone.”
Her breath hitched in her chest.
“Can you do me a favor and . . . I know this sounds weird, but can you just like . . . take off your glasses?”
“Seriously?” She stood frozen before him.
He nodded. “Sorry, but yeah.”
She pressed her lips into a thin, grim line and did a mental countdown from three. “Well, okay then.” Without another word, she lifted her glasses onto her forehead and peered at him through a pair of dark brown contact lenses. “Would you like to see my ID too?” She shoved a hand into her oversize bag. It was the sort of bluff she couldn’t afford to lose. If he said yes, she was screwed.
She retrieved the cheap nylon wallet and slowly pried it open. It was a game of chicken she was determined to win.
“No, you know what, it’s fine.” Tommy flushed and waved it away.
Madison waggled the wallet before him. “Maybe it’ll make you feel better about getting into a car with a strange girl who’s at least half your size.”
Tommy gave an embarrassed laugh. “No.” He shook his head. “Really, it’s okay.”
Madison dropped the wallet back in her bag and shuffled alongside him as they made for his car.