“Hey, what’s up?” I ask. “I haven’t seen much of you since I arrived.”
Though we ended things amicably years ago, it’s still awkward. Before, we’d had a casual friendship—joking, laughing, and hanging out—now, not so much. Since I arrived, she’s kept to herself, which surprises me because she suggested me for the part. But it’s further proof that going from friends to lovers is a guaranteed way to lose a friendship. Something I need to remember.
She holds out her phone and points to it. “Did you check your phone lately?”
“Not since yesterday when I managed to get a few minutes of reception. Why?”
She chews on her bottom lip and blows out a breath. “So, you haven’t seen it…”
“Seen what?”
“I’m not sure whether to show you this, but I thought you’d want to know.” She passes me her phone. I glance at the picture of a couple standing in the rain, embracing. The photo on her screen is too small to make out details.
“Someone reenacting our scene again? So?” I ask. It’s not unusual. Fans do that all the time, just like couples on a boat always do the famous Titanic pose.
“No, Chase. Look at it.”
I look more carefully, and my stomach would have dropped to my shoes if I’d been wearing them. “Fuck.”
In my life, I’ve rarely felt helpless.
Sure, I’ve been in plenty of shitty situations, one after the other, since the moment my mom died to today. Through all of it, I always had an unshakable certainty in my ability to manage, perhaps due to being challenged daily from a young age and surviving.
But that’s only when I’ve had to worry about myself. Now, this isn’t just about me.
Fear grips me, imagining how Olivia must be feeling, having the attention of the world—the haters, the trolls, the paparazzi, the unstable fans—all directed at her. And me being so fucking far away, I can’t protect her. This is the beginning of all my worst-case scenarios.
I hold the phone so tight I think it might shatter.
“That’s—”
“You,” Cassidy supplies.
“And that’s—”
“Not me,” she says.
I scroll down the screen and read. “Chase James and Mystery Girl Replay Famous Kissing Scene in the Rain. Fuck.” I scroll down farther to the subheading. “The Hollywood Herald can exclusively report that Chase James’s mystery girl is Olivia Evans, who works at a small bookshop in Noe Valley.”
My hand shakes. They know who she is. That means the full fury of all my obsessed fans and every tabloid in the world is about to rain down on her.
“Fuck,” I repeat, weaker now. My insides feel hollow. “Olivia.”
“So, who is she?” Cassidy asks, her face tightening.
“She’s my best friend.”
“It looks like she’s more than that,” her words echo my thoughts.
Cassidy observes me. “So is she the one?”
“The one who…？” I ask. My brain is far away—in San Francisco with Olivia.
“The girl you were hung up on when we dated.”
“What are you talking about, Cassidy?”
“I always knew there was someone else. The way you were so preoccupied. The way you were always texting someone. I see how you’re looking at this girl in the photo. It’s obvious how you feel. Is it her?” She doesn’t look mad, just curious.
I can’t deal with this now.
“What are you talking about?” I say. “We broke up because you couldn’t handle the media and fan scrutiny and their obsession with our relationship. After the death threats, you said you wanted a low-key romance.”
She looks sad. “That was hard. But if you had really cared, it wouldn’t have mattered. It seemed easier to blame the media. I’m not saying you cheated. But your heart was always somewhere else. If you looked at me even once like you’re looking at this girl, all the crap and baggage would have been worth the trouble.” She gently takes back her phone from me.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, surprising me. The screen reads, “Daisy.” Shit.
I answer and don’t bother with niceties. “Daisy. I just saw the photo. Are you and Olivia okay?”
“Ch-Chase, we have to talk.” Her voice is trembling. My always-glib, always-unflappable sister sounds upset.
Whatever happened is bad. And I already know that it’s all my fault.
CHAPTER 22
Olivia