Page 91 of And I Love Her

Chapter 20

“You bastard.” Jake gripped his phone and spoke to his agent through clenched teeth. “It was you.”

The accusation snapped from him like a rubber band. Anger tightened every muscle in his body. He slammed the car door shut and stalked to the terrace of the Bliss Cove Lighthouse, ignoring the cold ocean wind cutting through his jacket. Dealing with the fucking press was like playing whack-a-mole—the minute you got rid of one, another popped up.

He knew they’d be staking out his rental cottage, so he’d come up to the lighthouse for some privacy. Not that his “privacy” would last long.

“What was me?” Richard sounded innocent as all hell.

“You tipped the press off about where I am. That’s why they fucking blindsided me.”

“Yeah, like you blindsided me aboutFatal Glory,” his agent retorted.

“I have a right to do whatever the hell I want in my career.”

“Not when it’s the biggest mistake of your life, you don’t. Maybe you can pretend to be Joe Shmoe in some ass-backwards little town, but your PR firm and I are still here doing damage control on your efforts to self-destruct your own career. Even with the Conrad Birch role, it’s been a shitstorm of bad publicity. That old saying about any publicity being good publicity is a load of crap. The social media streams are filled with angry fans, and more than one director or actor has backed out of events or promotions you were lined up for. Susan is having a hell of a time managing the crisis, so I gave her a hand.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. He’d had numerous conversations with his publicist over the weeks, and not once had she indicated she either wanted or needed Rich’s interference.

“How the fuck is a paparazzi blitz supposed to help?” he snapped.

“Well, at first I was just hoping they’d take a few pics of you stocking books or running shirtless on the beach,” Richard said. “So Susan could spin theFatal Glorymess into you needing to get away from the world for your health or some shit like that.” He huffed and raised his voice above a crackle of static. “Then I see a picture of you and this random woman making out like teenagers, and I get an even better idea.Jake Ryan Leaves Fatal Glory For New Love.Your fans might actually forgive you, if Susan can spin it right.”

Fury boiled under Jake’s skin. Any morespinningand the earth would fly off its fucking axis.

“Where did you get a picture of me and Callie?” he demanded.

“You and who? Cassie? That’s her name? I like it. Good and wholesome. Is she coming with you? I need her in the spotlight as fast as humanly possible, if you expect to salvage your career.”

“You leave her the hell alone.” Jake gripped the terrace railing, ignoring another burst of icy wind. “Where did you get the picture?”

“I don’t know, man. It was in one of the papers.”

“You’re fired.”

“What?”

“You’re fired.” Jake took a deep breath. He owed Richard his gratitude for having helped navigate his career over the past couple of years, but that was it. Rich hadn’t been instrumental in his good fortune or success, and Jake sure as hell wasn’t going to give him any more control. “Thank you for what you’ve done, but I’m moving on. Good luck.”

Ending the call, he speared one hand through his hair. How had this become such a fucking mess?

He dragged in a breath, unable to stop an image of Callie. The sight of her on the floor, her eyes wide with shock and fear, her face drained of color as the press closed in on her—beneath his blinding rage, every single instinct he possessed had converged on the need to protect her.

Only by some superhuman effort had he known that getting close to her in that instant would have been a disaster. He’d have ended up punching another reporter, or worse. The best way to protect Callie, to get the paparazzi away from her, had been for him to leave, knowing they’d follow him. He hoped to God she understood that.

He scrolled through his multitude of texts and found one from her.At my mother’s house. Please come over.

After getting back into his car, he drove straight to Eleanor’s. The very least he owed them was an apology for throwing everything into chaos. The most he owed them was to get out of their lives for good.

Three police cars sat outside Eleanor’s house. Two officers got out when Jake pulled up. The front door opened, and Callie hurried down the porch steps, waving at the officers in an “it’s okay” gesture.

Regret and hopeless, aching love filled Jake as she approached, her gaze searching his anxiously.

“Hi.” He pushed the word past his tight throat.

“Hi.” She threw her arms around him in a hard embrace. “Jake, I am so, so sorry.”

Shewas sorry? For what?

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