Page 93 of Beyond the Fame

It’s also come to light that this bullying behavior wasn’t a one-time thing from Spars. Other co-stars and crew members from various projects over the years have contacted us with their claims that we are still looking into. Those claims could explain why Spars hasn’t booked a role in over three years. Sources tell us she approached Boliver with the intent to ask him for a job.

We’ve reached out to Spars for comment, to which she denies all allegations against her.

She bullied him?

What a bitch.

I look at the pictures more closely. Jensen’s smile is forced, his eyes full of disdain. Real hatred. Not the looks he ever gave me. He's not comfortable at all. And she’s touching him.

She’s touching my Ani.

Lana was right. I overreacted. These magazines are the worst, luring you in with a headline that promises one story, then dishes out another.

It's pathetic.

Instead of calling Lana back, I text her.

Me: Sorry. You’re right. It’s not what it seems

Lana: Apparently that woman is desperate for work and tried to get in Jensen’s good graces so he’d hire her on one of his next films.

Me: That’s sad, but I definitely don’t feel bad for her

Lana: How are you holding up?

Me: I’m okay. Better today

Lana: What are you up to?

Me: Nothing. Heading home now after meeting with my publisher

Lana: Oh, good. I was wondering where you were.

I raise my brow.

Me: Huh? What do you mean? Are you in NYC?

The three little dots pop up, then disappear, then pop up again. I'm about to call her back, but we’re pulling onto my street. As we approach my building, I spot someone sitting on the steps.

“Do you know this man?” Jeremy asks.

My heart hammers against my chest.

It's him.

“Yes. I know him.”

The driver barely stops the car before I'm climbing out. Jensen stands to meet me.

“Jensen?” I walk toward him, arms crossed as if that will protect me from the reason he’s here.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wait for our paths to cross again.”

I open my mouth to say something, but he moves close enough for me to touch him, and I forget how to form words. His musk of amber, honey, and oranges wraps around me. It’s only been a few days and lord I’ve missed his smell.

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