Page 69 of Off Script

“Nope! Uh-uh, not today! Get in the car, Jada.” Tristan dragged her away from the paparazzo and led her over to his Mustang. She decided not to put up a fight as the photographer blinded them with shots. He only stopped when Tristan nearly ran him over with his car. After they’d sped off from the scene, Tristan glanced over at Jada.

“You still mad?”

Her response was a sniff as she looked out the window.

“So, you’re not going to talk to me ever again? We have a deal, Jada.”

“I don’t need your help, and I can’t believe I thought I did. I can’t believe for one second, I thought I felt . . .”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter. This deal or the one I made with Daniel. It’s all the same. You’re all the same.”

“What does Daniel have to do with this?” Tristan frowned.

“Because he screwed me around. He nearly destroyed my life. And you’re exactly like him. You want me to believe you suddenly care about me? No, this is all about either hooking up or protecting your reputation. You want to use me and discard me when you’re through. But guess what? It’s not happening. Screw the deal.”

At this point, they’d reached a stoplight in a livelier part of town. Jada took this as her cue. With those parting words, she jumped out of the passenger seat, leaving a shell-shocked Tristan in the car. This time Tristan didn’t chase after her, but her past did, breathing down her neck. Demanding that she face it.

21

“I knew we would end up here,” Daniel had said to Jada, shaking his head. “Let’s cut our losses. I’ll smooth things over with Maggie and you’ll leave the show and get another gig.”

Jada remembered Daniel’s words so clearly. The bullshit he told her right before he spread lies about her to cover his own ass. She’d done her best to assure the execs she hadn’t actually done anything wrong. She’d fought back the best way she knew how, but eventually she’d signed her resignation and walked away like a spineless coward. She’d let a spoiled man-child and his insufferable mom take away everything that mattered to her.

Not again,Jada thought as she relived her downfall. She had sworn she would never let another man hurt her or dictate her career. Yet, after hearing Tristan repeat those exact same words, she realized it was happening again. Tristan had an emotional hold over her,andtheir damn agreement gave him a say in her acting career. Jada thought what she’d said to Tristan during their heart to heart at the Santa Monica Pier would have made a difference, but things still hadn’t clicked for him. He was still acting like a horny jerk. The incident at the wrap party just provedagainhow he was too embedded in her life, and she was giving him too much power. The same power she’d given Daniel. The power to break her.

It didn’t matter that Tristan’s touch lit her up inside, or that every time he looked at her she felt butterflies. From this moment on, she refused to let him possess her emotionally. Because if she let him in—even the tiniest bit—he would invade everything, consuming her thoughts, devouring her body. She would be completely his.

That frightening reality kept her up all night. It was also the reason why she’d blocked his calls this morning. She didn’t dare pick up or listen to his messages. She would have caved immediately.

Jada buried her head in her pillow, suppressing a belabored sigh. She should get out of bed and do something productive, but the energy to do so wasn’t there. Mikayla had hassled her about going to the gym but gave up when Jada claimed she wasn’t feeling well. This excuse wouldn’t deter her cousin for long, and she’d suffer through a full interrogation when Mikayla got back.

While she lay there, her phone rang again obnoxiously. She was going to send it to voice mail until she saw it was Avery calling.

“Hey, boss,” Jada tried to say cheerfully.

“Don’t patronize me. Explain this photo I found on TMZ.”

“What photo?”

“The one of you and Tristan arguing outside of Ren Kurosawa’s house.”

Crap.

“Oh that was—”

“Another acting scene? Come on, Jada!”

“Okay, so we had a small tiff, but—”

“Jada, you can’t afford any more tiffs. Tristan has been great for your image, snagging that audition for Logan Wentworth’s film—your callback is tomorrow, by the way. Please don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t.” Jada bristled. “Tristan and I are fine, and I’ll act my butt off at tomorrow’s audition.” How convenient that Avery wasn’t mentioning that Logan and the casting team had liked her enough—sans Tristan—to bring her in for a second run-through.

“Well—”

“Good-bye, Avery!” Jada shocked herself by actually hanging up on her.

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