erested in, not him.
A bigger win than he could ever imagine.
“I’m an asshole.” He slid behind the wheel of his car and started the engine.
“And I’m flattered.” She laughed. “Listen, why don’t you stop by my office tomorrow around one? I’ll have lunch brought in.”
“I’ll be there,” he said, but she was already gone.
He merged into traffic and drove with no particular destination in mind. His luck was about to turn—he could feel it—which left him in no mood to go home. He needed to celebrate, blow off some steam, and if Malina Li and her hot blond girlfriend weren’t into him, he’d find someone who was.
The air might be dry and warm with zero chance of precipitation, but Tommy Phillips was determined to make it rain once and for all.
TEN
BEEN CAUGHT STEALING
Aster Amirpour stirred in her bed, musing that she just might never leave. Her sheets were clean and of the absolute highest thread count; her pillow was lush and filled with pure, hypoallergenic goose down; her pajamas were woven from the finest Chinese silk; the temperature in her room was set exactly where she liked it, neither too hot nor too cold, but just right; and thanks to Ira and the maid service he’d hired, there were few visible signs of the police having ransacked the place in search of incriminating evidence while she’d been gone.
She flopped onto her belly, buried her face in her pillow, and nearly wept from the sheer joy of having an entire day rolled out before her to spend however she wanted. Maybe she’d go to the beach and take a long walk. Only this time, she’d pause long enough to appreciate all the small details she once used to ignore—the way the seagulls soared overhead, the way the sand rose and fell beneath her feet. After a week in the rage-filled environment of lockup, stripped of her freedom, her privacy, and everything else, she couldn’t imagine ever taking the small things for granted again.
The thought of jail was enough to send her mood plummeting. It was crazy how easily her emotions could shift. While she mostly fought hard to stay optimistic and upbeat, there was no avoiding the reality that the frivolous life she’d once enjoyed was now forever off-limits. Even if she were cleared of all charges, the small part she’d played in the Madison drama would forever live on as a piece of grisly Hollywood lore. She’d reached for fame and wound up with infamy. She’d wanted to be an actress, and now it was just a matter of time before some casting director went looking for someone to play her in the cheesy, movie-of-the-week crime drama that was probably already in development.
Her carefree days were over. Her entire future hung in the balance. And Aster, who had once been popular, loved, and surrounded by friends, had never felt so alone in the world.
Sure, Ira had assembled a great team of lawyers to defend her—but what if it wasn’t enough? What if despite their best efforts, a jury of twelve random people still decided they didn’t like what they saw and convicted her of first-degree murder? The thought of going to prison was horrible enough, but knowing she’d never get out—never breathe the ocean air, never ruffle her little brother’s hair—was devastating at best.
A trial date would soon be set, which meant she needed to make the most of every moment between now and then. While she still had no recollection of how she’d spent the missing hours between leaving Ryan in the Riad and waking up in the strange apartment, she was committed to using every spare second to conduct her own investigation.
Someone was setting her up—most likely Ryan Hawthorne. And while she had no idea why, she was sure that the key to proving her innocence and getting herself out of the mess depended on either finding a way to restore her memory, locating Madison, or finding a way to connect Ryan to the crime.
If it was a crime. Despite the blood evidence, Aster refused to believe Madison was dead. And yet, where could she possibly have gone?
Just the thought of all she was facing was enough to make Aster’s eyes sting with tears, but she refused to indulge in them. While bed was tempting, and undeniably safe, she needed to get up and out. She needed to reclaim her life.
She shoved her feet into her slippers and padded across the room. Her fingers were just circling the door handle, when she heard voices drifting from the living room.
Was it Ira? Or possibly even the maids?
She pressed her ear hard against the door and tried to make out the words, but they were too muffled to decipher.
With her heart frantically slamming against her chest, she scanned the room for some kind of weapon, something she could use to defend herself in case it turned out to be one of her most ardent haters bent on revenge.
Unfortunately, she’d left her phone along with her purse in the living room. And, of course, being the girliest of girly girls, the best her room had to offer was a spiked Christian Louboutin heel.
Wielding the shoe like a weapon, Aster turned the knob and crept quietly into the hall, where she paused, pressed flush against the wall, and listened incredulously as a male voice said, “Relax. We have the whole place to ourselves. I told you, my sister’s still in jail.”
Javen?
Aster shot around the corner just in time to catch her little brother, Javen, kissing a boy on her couch.
“What the hell?” she shouted, her words stifled by Javen’s surprised shrieks.
He leaped away from the boy and stared frantic and bug-eyed at Aster. “What are you doing here?” His hands fluttered wildly, raking through his dark hair and swiping at his lips as though erasing the evidence. “You scared the crap out of me!”
“What am I doing here? You seriously think you’re the one who gets to ask questions?” Aster loomed before him, shoe at the ready.
Javen balked. “Well, kind of, yeah. And could you please lower that shoe? You could seriously hurt someone with that thing.”