Page 91 of Until Then

Bridger: Touché.

Dax: I don’t care where it’s done, as long as it’s done.

Carter: We won’t let him mess it up.

Carter: I bonded with her all morning over our daddy issues.

Rees: Keep watch on the story, guys. We have enough PR between us, we can handle it, right?

Dax: Did we forget my wife’s education is literally in public relations? Yeah, Blake’s on the case.

I chuckle. Something set them off, and I have no idea what it is. The most I caught from the conversation is they like Hayley. It’s all I want to know.

I open a few from Rob, Kim, and my other PR team. One is from Blake Sage, Dax’s wife, and a good friend. She congratulates me first on being every woman’s dream, informing me the truth behind the hit is being spread.

To know Hayley’s being brought into it doesn’t ease the nerves. I planned to do what my PR guy suggested—apologize, express it was surprise and stress at being grabbed by Shane Holston. A reaction.

Blake wants me to lean into Hayley’s truth from her story.

Hayley’s truth? What?

There’s a voicemail and text from one of the lawyers from my management company. I listen to his assurances since Holston touched me first and with Hayley’s corroboration, he believes this will settle outside of the press.

Her corroboration?

Finally, I reach Vienna’s text.

Vienna: She’s solid, No. I’m so happy for you.

Below the words is a screen recording of a social media live video.

I swallow, sit up, and hit play.

“When do I know it’s live?” Hayley keeps her voice in a low whisper.

Behind her is my freaking balcony view. Her hair is free, the breeze keeps blowing the strands around her freckled cheeks.She’s wearing the simple sundress she wore when we came back to my place.

She’s perfect.

“I think it’s on? Wait, I don’t know. Hang on.” Off camera, Rees shuffles the phone in his hands. For a few seconds, the camera pans to him, a horrible angle, practically up his nose. He curses, then hurries to flip it around. “It’s live. It’s live.”

Hayley smooths the skirt of her dress—her nervous habit—and waves at the camera. “Um, hi. I’m not good at these things, and don’t really have a script. I’m doing this on Rees’s page because we didn’t ask Noah. He’d say no because he’s protective, but so are we. So, anyway.”

She pauses and looks down at her hands, as though she’s gathering the words to say.

“I’m Hayley Foster.” Her eyes lift again. “You might recognize me from the few videos Noah has been posting from my ranch. Little glimpses of my therapy sessions. That’s all I am, an occupational therapist, who happens to be dating a TV star. But what happened yesterday between Noah and Shane Holston is my fault. At least, I was the fire that caused Noah to react.”

“Hayley.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “What did you do?”

Whatever I’m going to see already happened. There’s nothing I can do but grit my teeth and brace for my beautiful, bold Wildfire to finish.

Another pause. I know Hayley well enough to recognize when she’s summoning the courage to go on. “Shane Holston is my father. I use that word loosely. He donated half my DNA, let’s say that. He’s made it clear to me since I was one that the truth of his connection to me is his greatest shame. He has fought tirelessly to keep it private, and I’ve gone along with it for twenty-seven years. Not anymore.

“It was because of me Noah was brought into a meeting with Holston Films. It was because of me Noah had no idea Shane was my father. I never told him, and that’s on me. I’d learned to play my part of being the dirty, little secret kid well. But Shane is arrogant and truly thought Noah was with me all to get roles with his company.”

“Idiot.” Rees’s soft insult is barely caught by the camera.

Hayley grins and presses a finger to her lips. “You said you’d be quiet.”

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