It all happens so fast.

Connor breaks the speed limit as he drives us back to the city. He’s in constant communication with his PR people via the speaker on the dashboard phone, so I’m able to listen to everything that’s said. And believe me, it’s all said in a very straightforward, businesslike manner as if the world isn’t falling down around us.

They tell Connor that, early this evening, a group of anonymous hackers who’d gained access to the Highest Bidder website published all of the customer information on the deep web. Things have gone to hell from there.

“We’re seeing mirror sites popping up everywhere, Mr. Kenyon,” says Connor’s number one PR woman. “Yours isn’t the only name that’s being published on them. Anyone who’s ever used Highest Bidder is getting called out, including the escorts themselves.”

Oh shit.

“And this is in spite of the best security available,” Connor says, as if to himself. His voice hardens even more. “Just keep me posted with more information as well as what you’re doing for damage control. It won’t be too long before I’m at the office.”

As he hangs up, he’s one cold block of ice now more than ever.

I huddle on my side of the car, leaving him to mull over how he’s going to salvage his reputation, much less mine. The mirror sites aren’t just going after the clients—they’re throwing girls such as me out like raw meat to the public for their entertainment.

I’m sure Connor will start talking to me about this latest fiasco when he’s ready, although I don’t rule out his complete, livid silence, either.

Meanwhile, I try to quell the rising panic inside me. If my name gets leaked…if my parents were to find out…

I feel like I might vomit.

While I try to remember all my college classes about business and marketing—maybe I can come up with something that will help—everything is escaping me in my growing panic. All I can do is watch out the window as the foliage gradually gives way to more and more concrete.

Soon, we’re speeding past other cars on an expressway. It’s like a different world out there, full of attacks, full of people who have nothing better to do than make life hell for others they don’t even know.

When my own phone vibrates again with yet another text, I fumble for the device to shut it off. I know who’s been trying to reach me: my family, friends, and Robbie.

Before I can press the Off button, I see my mom’s newest message.

Enough is enough, Ally. We’re coming to Manhattan so you’ll have to talk to us.

If they can find me, they’re going to kill me. The thing is, I’m starting to care less and less about that, because I can feel how disturbed Connor is, even if he’s fighting it, and that’s what’s consuming me the most.

Out of nowhere, an insane laugh bubbles up in me, but it might actually be a sob. I wanted a thrill, a big adventure with Highest Bidder, and I sure got it.

Connor’s dashboard phone rings, and the readout indicates that it’s PR again. He picks up the call. “Yes.”

“We have an update, Mr. Kenyon.” His PR woman doesn’t sound optimistic.

“Lay it on me.”

“I’ve got a journalist who says he’s trying to contact you for a comment on a scoop he’s going to run with.” The woman blows out a breath. “The story concerns the date you were with the other night. Allyson Barnes.”

I lean my head against the window, wishing I were dead. I knew this was coming.

“Allyson is here with us,” Connor says with a warning in his tone. He doesn’t tell his employee that I’m in the car. He makes it sound as if I might be on a conference call with them.

The PR woman races on. “Hello, Ms. Barnes.”

I can’t even say hi back.

“Mr. Kenyon,” the PR employee says without pausing, “this journalist figured out who Allyson really is, and she isn’t a student who was just selling Kenyon Motors an idea for an app.”

Even though there’s no judgment in her tone, I get the feeling that there’ll be plenty of that coming up. I’m about to be outed as Connor’s elite call girl.

As everything closes in on me, I vaguely hear him barking instructions to PR, then calling someone else, giving them orders to send a car for me to a designated meeting spot just outside the city so he can drop me off and have them take me to the apartment undercover while he continues on to his office. Then he arranges for a decoy outside the apartment building, a double from the Kenyon security team who will draw the paparazzi away from the entrance so I’ll be able to slip inside with a disguise. Other security will subtly be nearby to see that everything goes off without a hitch.

He finally hangs up.

“Connor…” I start to say before the phone rings again.

I see the word Dad on the readout just before Connor disables the call and tightens his grip on the steering wheel until I think it might shatter.

The aggressive whir of tires over the road only adds to my unsteady pulse, and I finally look over at him.

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

“Sorry that this has already gone viral?” He laughs harshly. “Just wait in an hour when the real story about us breaks. It’ll redefine viral.”

“I’m sorry that I got you in this deep.”

“Don’t be sorry. I would’ve been a part of this with or without you. I’ve been a Highest Bidder client for a while.”

It’s almost as if he’s more worried about me than him, but I don’t know if that’s true. He’s about to have his world blown apart, his business tarnished because of his secrets. My world’s going to suck in a whole different way, because I don’t have a fortune or a very public reputation to lose. I only have to face the wrath of my friends and neighbors and family.

“Before I came into the picture,” I say, “any story about you wouldn’t have been as bad as what’s about to break. We’re already on the public’s radar, and this only intensifies what the press put us through this morning.”

“Stop apologizing, Allyson. You didn’t hack anything.”

The lash of his voice makes me lean against the door even more, and he utters a fuck under his breath.

I try again. “You mentioned damage control. Is there a way to keep that journalist from writing his article?”

“If it isn’t him, it’ll be someone else. Any reporter worth his salt is going to match your name with the Highest Bidder records. This journalist was merely the first to do it.”

I shake my head. “Are you really this calm?” I’m not. Fear is eating away at me.

“I deal with pressure all the time.”

“Not this kind of pressure.”

He shoots me a look that could turn water into icicles.

“I know your façade is deceptive,” I say. “You’ve been fooling people with it for years.”

“Have I?”

“You can let your guard down with me, Connor.”

I have no idea where I get the guts to be saying this, but he clearly doesn’t appreciate it. The air snaps between us.

Finally he speaks. “I’ve got this under control.”

“Then tell me what you’re going to do.” My rising panic has crept into my voice. “What can you possibly do?”

He continues to freeze me out, and all my pent-up fear and frustration finally blast through me.

“I know one way you can handle this, Connor. You can stand up for me and tell everyone that our relationship is real!”

Tires squeal as he pulls the car over to the shoulder of the expressway. Vehicles whiz past us with horns blaring, but Connor only turns toward me slowly, so slowly that the glowing dashboard lights make his eyes pierce me with growing fury.

For the first time since I met him, he seems to be on the edge of saying something that will shake up my world, but maybe he’s too angry to say it. Or maybe there’s something else going on with him.

I’m so tired of pretending there’s nothing between us. I can’t keep it inside anymore.

“I see how you look at me when you think I’m unaware of it. I feel how you feel whenever you touch me. You haven’t been able to say no to me and—”

“You’re misreading me,” he says, his words so taut that they slice through the air.

“I’m misreading nothing.” It’s as if my chest is being pressed into itself. It hurts, and my heart is dying second by second. “Stop pretending that we’re still call girl and client. Tell the world that you took me out on the town the other night because you wanted to make me happy. Tell them that you don’t care who you’re supposed to be with anymore.”

A disbelieving laugh from him separates us even more. Then he turns to the steering wheel again.

“I think it’s time for us to end this altogether, Allyson.”

Everything drops inside me: my stomach, my heart. I feel as if I’m falling away from him.

With practiced assurance, he pulls back onto the expressway and merges with the traffic. I’m too stunned to process what he just said, much less answer. I was so sure that I saw something in him even as recently as this evening, but I was truly wrong.

“Pull back over,” I whisper.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“Pull back over.” I’m going to cry and humiliate myself. I can’t. I won’t. “I’m going to call a cab to meet me right here and take me to your place.”

“Jesus.” But he only keeps driving.

I get the feeling he’s giving both of us time to calm down, but when I turn on my phone, he reaches out and puts it on the seat next to me.

“I’m not saying we should stop seeing each other just for my own benefit,” he grits out. “Goddammit, haven’t you learned anything from the past few days?”

“I’ve learned that I want to be with you no matter what.”

He only shakes his head, still gripping the wheel. My confession sounds so tiny as we get closer and closer to the huge, voracious city. I feel lost in the taillights around us, as if I’m slowly sinking into a red depression.

He takes an off ramp before we cross into Manhattan, then drives into a nearly empty gas station. There’s a man outside a Kenyon model town car, obviously waiting for us. As I open the door and start to get out of our vehicle, Connor reaches over and touches my cheek. I can’t look at him. I just can’t.

He lets his hand drop. “The shit’s going to get real ugly now. You won’t be able to emotionally stand up to this kind of scrutiny and judgment. Not many people can.”

I think he really means this. “Are you saying you’re only watching out for me?”

“I am.”

“Bullshit, Connor. You’re willing to give up on us because you think I’m too weak to handle being with you? Or maybe it’s you who can’t handle this.”

His gaze goes dark and haunted. “The media heat is going to incinerate you, Allyson, and I can’t bear to watch it happen.”

I close my eyes as a swell of sadness overwhelms me. All the anger has left him. Now there’s only a regret so deep that it seems fathomless.

He does care, but he’s convinced his life is going to destroy me.

I shake my head. “You don’t understand.” Each time my heart thumps, a new bruise gets stamped onto it. My voice wobbles. “I’m stronger than you think, Connor. I can deal with the judgments and attacks. What I can’t handle is your refusal to fight for me.” My words are falling apart, even as I say them. “That’s what’s truly breaking my heart into a million pieces.”

I have the feeling he’s stuck in what he feels are his duties to his family and business—and above all, me. Giving in would mean bringing me into a life he hates.

“Don’t waste your time and energy on something that’ll just tear you apart,” he says to me before I get out of the car.

“It hasn’t been a waste of time for me,” I tell him. I look at him with all the emotion that has been building up inside of me, and when he returns my gaze, I think for a beautiful second that he’s changed his mind. He wants me to stay…and now he’ll say it.

But then he turns to look out the windshield again. “Think about it. It won’t take long for you to realize I’m right.”

He leans over to shut the door, then he drives off.

My heart heavy, I walk toward the town car that’s waiting for me, and the driver hands me a bag. Inside I find a floppy hat, sunglasses, a black wig, and a roomy coat. Yet another disguise for me.

As he drives me to Connor’s building, I numbly put on my costume, and when I climb out of the car at the curb, it looks like the security decoy has worked to clear out any paparazzi.

Head down, tears in my eyes, I move quickly toward the door, knowing that more security is nearby.

I take off my glasses so the doorman can see it’s me, the call girl, the Allyson Barnes who has worn so many disguises lately.

I barely feel anything as he nods to me, obviously having been informed of my situation, and allows me into the building of a man who truly doesn’t want me around anymore.

A man who just thoroughly crushed me.