The cop nodded, watched her walk to her car. Once she was safely inside, he turned to Layla and said, “I’m going to need to see some ID.”
TWENTY-FOUR
KNOW YOUR ENEMY
Madison grabbed her purse, slipped out of her car, and made for Night for Night, where she greeted the bouncer, James, and leaned in for a rare, sincere hug she reserved for a small list of people. She truly liked James. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but heck, there’d been a time when the same could be said of her. James was street-smart, a striver, not afraid to work hard by taking on a few extra assignments, and he was fiercely loyal to those who were fiercely loyal to him—all qualities Madison admired.
She tipped onto her toes and whispered into his ear. “Is she here?”
He nodded. “But so far, Ryan’s a no-show.”
“Oh, he’ll show.” Madison peered over his shoulder, squinting to get a better look inside the club. “You’ll alert me when he does?”
“You know it.”
“Also, don’t give her the credit for getting me here.”
“Any preference?”
“Anyone but Aster.” She kissed him on the cheek, discreetly slipped a wad of bills into his pocket, and made her way in. It was rare for her to go out alone, but her usual crowd would only distract her, and besides, she didn’t plan to stay long.
She moved through the club. It was one of her favorites based on decor alone. She’d visited Marrakech once, and though the trip had been brief, she thought Ira had done a good job of capturing that exotic, luxe feel with all the copper lanterns, curved archways, and abundance of hand-painted tiles. Even the music they played was more languorous and mellow than most clubs, the slow, sexy beat just low enough so you didn’t have to scream to have a conversation.
She looked all around, hoping Ira wasn’t there. He’d waste no time trying to impress her with buckets of champagne and a spot at the best VIP table. He was always really gracious, bordering on ingratiating, and while she usually didn’t mind, tonight she preferred to keep it low-key. She would’ve told James not to tell Ira she’d arrived, but she doubted he’d go along. She wasn’t the only one he was fiercely loyal to.
Even though the club was crowded, Aster was easy to find. She was right there in the Riad, as Madison had figured. In spite of all the pictures she’d seen, she was still surprised to find the girl was exceedingly pretty. While there was no shortage of beautiful actresses in LA, Madison was convinced the intangible thing that made some more compelling than others had nothing to do with the tilt of a nose, or the sweep of cheekbones. It was the ability to inhabit a role so fully the flesh seemed to dissolve into the character’s being.
For Madison, the ability to disappear was what drew her to the craft. And, ironically enough, the time had come for her to vanish for real. Paul would do what he could, but she no longer trusted him to keep her safe on his own, and she had no intention of sitting around, waiting for the threat to find her. Luckily, she’d delayed her breakup with Ryan. Turned out she needed him now more than ever.
Madison prided herself on possessing a level of insight that was rare for someone her age. Her ability to read beyond the lines in a script and get to the absolute motivation behind every word, every action, was her greatest gift. And at that moment, watching Aster flirt with a producer who really should’ve been home with his wife and new baby, Madison sensed Aster’s desperation, the insatiable need to be the star of every scene. Not exactly rare for an actor; they were known to be a needy, neurotic, insecure bunch, but unlike Aster, Madison had learned to rid herself of her baser emotions (or at least appear to), and desperation was the first to go.
A wisp of a grin caught Madison’s face. If it was attention the girl wanted, then Madison would gladly provide. Though it would come at a price Aster wouldn’t expect.
Madison watched in amusement as Aster’s face transitioned from her charming, flirty, party-hostess expression to one of the absolute shock of finding Madison Brooks standing before her.
“Madison—hi!” Her tone was friendly, bubbly. And with her flawless olive complexion, glossy dark hair, enormous brown eyes with lashes so thick they didn’t seem real though they most likely were, and the lithe, sinuous body of someone who was no stranger to dance class, she was even prettier up close and in person.
“I like your Sophia Websters.” Madison motioned to Aster’s embellished stilettos. There was no better friendship starter than a mutual love of overpriced shoes. And though they’d never be actual friends, their fates were now tied together in ways Aster could never foresee.
“Can I get you a table?” Aster beamed as though she could barely contain her excitement.
Madison glanced at her usual cabana. “I see my favorite is taken. . . .”
Aster blinked, once, twice, probably calculating the amount of fallout she’d face by evicting the current occupants to make room for Madison. Wisely deciding against it, she said, “I’m so sorry. Had I known you were stopping by . . .”
Madison waved a hand in dismissal, favoring Aster with a grin like they were long-lost friends. “How could you have known?” The grin faded as she allowed the question to linger between them.
For a few startled moments Aster truly did resemble the cliché of a deer caught in headlights. Then just as quickly, the panic eased from her face and she said, “I have another great table I think you’ll really like. And I can have your favorite champagne sent right over. Dom Pérignon rosé, right?”
Madison nodded. The girl had done her homework. Though if anyone had ever bothered to observe a little closer, they would’ve noticed Madison rarely drank from the bottomless glasses of champagne the clubs continuously foisted on her. That was where her entourage came in. They provided the perfect distraction to the sober truth that Madison wasn’t quite the partier she pretended to be.
She followed Aster to a table along the terrace’s perimeter, all the while studying her like Aster was a character she might someday portray. She’d already seen all of Aster’s vitals on paper—home address, family net worth, the private schools and country club memberships—but to truly understand Aster, Madison needed to observe her in person. It was imperative to know exactly who she was dealing with if she was going to allow Aster to play such a big role in her life.
Hollywood breakups were tricky. They came second only to the breathless vigil the tabloids kept over baby bumps and celebrity weddings. A split between actors had the power to boost or destroy a career—it all depended on how the story was spun.
Usually, a cheating scandal looked very bad for the cheater. But there were definitely cases where the tabloids turned on the victim, painting him or her to be so awful the cheater was automatically forgiven the discretion. However it played, one thing was sure: if the other person worked outside the industry, then they usually wasted no time trying to elevate themselves by selling their side of the story, attempting to make the leap from a virtual nobody to a permanent place in the spotlight. Of course, once a new scandal came along, they were quickly forgotten—but that didn’t stop them from trying.
When news of Ryan and Madison broke, there would be no shortage of magazines willing to cough up some cash to anyone with info on the split. And after see