Page 30 of Lights, Camera, Love

As Kye goes on, the images begin unfolding in my mind.

The endless news reports about Gabriel Dean being pushed back to the no-man’s-land that is the middle section of the newspaper.

A large, colour image on page two, introducing the ‘sizzling new romance’ between heartthrob Austin Reynolds and his co-star, the professional dancer and choreographer Evie Scott.

Gabriel Dean flipping open a newspaper while he’s in a VIP lounge waiting for his jet to be refuelled, and experiencing the same nauseating stomach drop that I endure every time I see his face in the media.

These are the places where my mind goes first, strangely—it’s not the prospect of pretending to be Austin’s girlfriend that makes my stomach flutter with excitement. What I want out of this is for the movie to do well, and as shamefully vindictive as it might sound, for my father to see me not only shine butsoar. Maybe then the dark abyss of heartbreak that lives deep inside me—the one I try so hard to ignore—will begin to close.

‘I’ll do it,’ I cut in before Kye can finish his sales pitch.

He stops and blinks at me. ‘You’re sure?’

I lift a shoulder. ‘Why not? It worked for that couple fromTwilight, didn’t it? Although, my teenage self still insists their romance was real. She’ll fight you on it.’

Kye doesn’t just smile, he makes a quick, amused hum, and I feel his deep, rumbling tone low in my stomach.

‘Okay then,’ he says, brushing his palm across the back of his neck, his bicep bulging through his T-shirt. ‘I’ll tell Austin it’s a goer.’ He slips a hand into the back pocket of his jeans, reaching for his phone, I assume, when a potential complication pounces on me.

‘Wait!’ I blurt. ‘There’s something you need to know first.’

‘What is it?’

I glance down at the disjointed cracks marring the footpath, searching for the words I can’t seem to get out.

But then Kye says them for me. ‘Your father is Gabriel Dean.’

My eyes jump to his, turning wide. ‘How did you know that?’

‘It’s my job to know everything about the people Austin’s working closely with.’

A cavity forms in my stomach as I take a step back. ‘It’s your job to dig up dirt on me?’

He doesn’t move; his steady gaze holds mine. ‘Why is that considered dirt?’ he asks softly.

A rough breath escapes my lips as I look away. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this. It’s not like it’sthathard to join the dots between Gabriel Dean and me, considering who my mother is. I’ve seen the articles about Gabriel’s ‘mystery child’. In fact, this is exactly why I thought to bring it up—if we go ahead with this fake-relationship plan, reporters might uncover the link. Still, it’s a chance I’m willing to take. The media haven’t managed to expose me so far, and for all I know, there could be hundreds of women in Gabriel’s past who might be the mother of his rumoured offspring.

Kye’s still looking at me, a faint crease etched on his brow.

‘I don’t have a relationship with my father,’ I explain.

‘Tell me about it,’ he mumbles in a sarcastic tone, revealing this is something we have in common.

I don’t know what to say back at first. I don’t feel like I know Kye well enough to ask anything personal about his past or his family, so I keep silent on that. ‘About Gabriel,’ I say instead, my throat tight. ‘I…I don’t want anyone to know. If the media find out, that’s one thing, but…please don’t tell anyone. Including Austin.’ I don’t know Austin well either, but something about his energy screams ‘big mouth’.

Kye gives a gentle nod, and then the little line in his brow deepens as he fixes his eyes on me. ‘I wasn’t digging up dirt on you,’ he says. ‘I was just trying to protect you.’

‘From what?’

He lets out a breath. ‘There’s…there’s somebody who has it in for Austin. It kind of comes with the territory once you reach his level of fame. And this person makes a habit of rooting out private information about his co-stars. Which is why I like to get there first, so that sh— they can’t try to fuck with us…or you. That’s all there was to it.’

I try to process this vague information. ‘You mean Austin has, like, a stalker?’

‘That’s one way of looking at it.’

A taxi swerves past us, and the car behind it blasts its horn, making us both jump.

I’m cold and tired, and tonight’s discussion topic isn’t helping those complaints.

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