Page 30 of Fool's Gold

“If you don’t make time to eat—” he begins, going into manager mode.

I whirl on him and point a finger. “Don’t,” I say, low and threatening and so not me. “There’s no time to eat with your new schedule.” And he wasn’t there.

Things are definitely not what I thought they’d be, though, on set or otherwise. It isn’t the first time I’ve felt like I’ve strayed far off the path where I’m supposed to be. But standing in the foyer of the apartment with Marcus, a black hole just ahead, the strangeness of the place… I’m at a loss.

The set isn’t the friendly place of wonder it used to be when my mom and dad were under the spotlight.

I push a lank piece of hair behind my ear. “Now, did you order food or not?”

He sweeps a hand out toward the coffee table. “Chinese. I waited for you.”

A knock sounds at the door, and the shock of the sound blasts through me, all the way down to my tingling toes.

A glance at Marcus shows him confused, glowering, and he narrowly avoids me on his way past.

“Are you expecting someone?” I want to know, already ticked off and getting worse.

“What in the fucking world…” He yanks the doorknob hard enough to loosen the screws.

My breath catches. The woman standing in the hallway is the prettiest blonde I’ve ever seen, her face flawless. Scandinavian, if I had to guess from the tone of her icy hair. She’s got the lithe, willowy figure of a prima ballerina, and without waiting for Marcus to stop growling, she shifts past him.

Her gaze immediately narrows on me, and although her smile is a flash of white teeth and red lips, it’s anything but friendly.

“Get the fuck out of here, Celeste. You have no right to show up at my apartment.”

I’m rooted to the spot, a deer in the headlights in front of this woman who already looks at home. A woman Marcus knows. And the way he glowers at her has me wondering if it’s a relationship gone bad.

What do I really know about his past? About the ladies he’s seen and slept with?

Anxiety prickles along each vertebra.

“Both of you, sit. Take a seat somewhere comfortable.” The woman—Celeste—breezes past Marcus, practically ignoring him, and stalks down the hall toward me.

I stumble back a step before catching myself and clearing my throat.

“I know who you are, Miss Stone,” Celeste says. “There’s no need for introductions.” She sweeps her arm out toward the leather couch and waits.

Marcus and I don’t move. Neither one of us takes our eyes off her, this powerhouse. If he’s slept with her, then I’m going to drop right through the floor and die. No joke.

After a way too tense heartbeat, Celeste lifts a single shoulder. “Suit yourselves.” She turns to Marcus, and the civility slips from her features. “What happened on set today? You made a mockery of yourself.”

He slinks forward, and the air is thick with tension. My lungs struggle for every molecule of oxygen as the two of them face each other, and something dangerous threatens to crack. Okay, so someone may actually end up dead, but I’m not sure it’s me.

“Good news travels quickly,” he mutters.

“And bad news is faster,” Celeste quips.

They stare each other down, and unlike me, neither one of them is anywhere close to cracking. How in the world did Celeste know what happened today? Or where Marcus lives? Who the hell is she?

“Empire, go to your room. I need to talk to our new friend.”

I jump at my name. He wants me to go where? Shunned. Not to mention, he’s talking to me like a child. Or worse, a pet, who did something naughty and is being punished.

The look he gives me leaves no room for argument.Rather than making a fuss in front of Celeste, I slink off down the hallway and pause at the door.

Rather than disappear, I crouch low, holding my breath until their words become clear. Because there is no way I’m missing whatever is about to go down.

TEN

---