Page 49 of Protégé King

“She has to film in fifteen minutes.” Cheryl argues. “I have to—”

“I said, we need a minute,” my mother snaps, showing some balls for the first time in a long time. Unfortunately, I know why. She found out about Damion, which I should have known was coming when I agreed to the fake engagement anyway. Which is fake, but I can’t tell her that. She is too much of a loose cannon these days to keep a secret.

Cheryl eyes me and I wave her off. “It’s okay.”

She lowers her gaze and walks toward my mother, who moves to allow her exit. My mother steps aside and into the trailer. The minute she’s gone, and the door shuts, my mother is standing above me.

She’s a pretty woman who’s aged like fine wine. Petite, with long brunette hair, and ivory skin that looks better than most thirty-year-old’s skin. The scowl on her face does her no favors though, that’s for sure. “What are you thinking? Damion West?!”

“You know he’s always been ‘the one’ for me.”

“His father made me…” Her voice cracks and she turns her face away a moment before she looks at me. “He did things to me.”

I’d freak out if I hadn’t heard this before. I’ve been there, done that, and settled in a place where I’m numb unless I think too hard. “He’s not his father.”

“Are you really that naïve? He has a reputation as a ladies’ man, and second only to his father in brutal business transactions. You are ruining your life.”

I hunger to tell her he’s paying off the debt, but I promised Damion I would not, and his reasons for concern are obviously valid. “Your life was in danger. He paid five hundred thousand dollars to protect you.”

“So he says. You think he didn’t know the game his father was playing with us?” She holds up her hands. “I can’t even talk to you right now. You need to stop seeing him immediately. That’s an order!” She marches to the door and exits, slamming it behind her.

I blow out a breath. Damion’s right. I’ve enabled them both for way too long. I have to stop. I’m just afraid the damage is done.

Cheryl peeks her head back in the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes. Hurry, please.”

Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed in a fitted navy dress that flares slightly at the hem, strappy high heels, and I’m hurrying to the car waiting on me. Late is not a good look, but Cheryl took the heat and told them she got sick in the middle of doing my makeup, which I really appreciate. I honestly don’t have any real friends. Anyone I got close to might have figured out what I was hiding.

And I couldn’t risk that.

I exit the building and, oh my God, the press is everywhere. Two security guards step up to shelter me, but I hear what they are shouting:

Ms. Blue, how long have you been seeing Damion West?

Alana, how does Damion feel about your wildly successful TV show?

Ms. Blue, I see you grew up next door to Mr. West.

The driver opens the rear door for me, and I slide inside, and breathe out. This is insane and I can’t even call Damion. The driver will hear, and it seems everyone blabs everything these days. The door is about to shut and my producer, Shauna Smith, slides inside. “Just in time,” she says, and yanks the door shut.

The driver joins us for the short trip and we’re off.

Shauna breathes out. “That’s nuts. You sure are getting a lot of attention.”

“I know. I hear all attention is good, but I’m not used to my private life being internet fodder. I don’t care for it much.”

“It’s a sign of success. Be happy.” She shifts the topic. “I’ve met Damion West. He’s impressive. I had no idea you two had a history. I heard you grew up together.”

“We did,” I say. “Practically from birth.”

“Well, you were smart to realign with him now. He’s a media king.”

My brows dip. “What?”

“You know. The way he twists a story to get a company to do what he wants. That’s why the studio brought him in. Obviously, he worked his magic for you. You’re trending, honey, and it’s a beautiful thing. I bet we get the season two renewal today.”

I cut my stare and sink deeper into my seat, trying to get my head around what she just said. A knot forms in my chest. The press never paid me any attention until last night with Damion. Damion really, really needed to make me his public fiancée. I agreed this morning, but last night I was a hard no. Surely, he didn’t…He wouldn’t tip the press off to ensure I was linked to him so Mary Morrison saw the buzz.

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