Infamous

  It was surprising how easily she’d been able to sway them all to her side. At the time, she thought for sure Ryan, Aster, and Layla would cut her off halfway through her story and put a call in to Larsen. Somehow, against all odds, she’d managed to convince them to delay alerting the authorities just a little bit longer. Which was why she felt so bad about her plan to betray them.

  She paused by the breakfast bar and ran a finger across the stack of newspapers and magazines Tommy had left for her to read. People was on top, and yet again, Madison’s face stared back from the cover. She recognized the picture as a still from one of her movies, where she’d played a small-town grifter. The way her mouth pulled tight and her gaze narrowed and veered off to the side was a perfect match for the headline, which promised a deeper look at a star no one really knew.

  Funny to think how she’d vanished from sight, only to find her image more prominent than ever. There was even talk of an Oscar nom, a Golden Globe too. Ira wasn’t the only one getting a major PR bump. Madison’s abduction had sent her star meter soaring to the sort of stratospheric heights even a lead role in a critically acclaimed blockbuster could never accomplish. Not everyone was willing to sit in a darkened theater and watch a two-hour movie unfold, but most everyone liked to keep up on the sordid details of the latest tragedy in the making, and Madison planned to milk it for all it was worth.

  For those who made their living in the public eye, attention was currency. The day the fans stopped talking was the day they stopped caring. Like a forced retirement, the end of celebrity gossip was the beginning of obscurity.

  Still, she’d have to find a way to reframe the diary entries. Since the first one had been posted, a new one appeared every day. The incendiary content had inflamed news outlets the world over, but Layla was too afraid of the threatening notes to do anything to stop the carnage. As soon as Madison came out of hiding, she’d deny every word. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too late. The reveals had left her fans feeling deeply betrayed. The longer the mess was allowed to drag on, the more their rage would cement until there was no turning back.

  She paused before the full-length mirror. A few healthy meals and a decent night’s sleep in a comfortable bed had gone a long way toward adding a bit of color back to her cheeks. Her cuts and bruises were still visible but beginning to fade. And while her ankle was still an issue, the pain was lessening, which made it easier to accommodate.

  The hem of Tommy’s old Led Zeppelin T-shirt curled at the top of her thighs. She knew it was his favorite and hoped he wouldn’t mind that she’d borrowed it. Funny to think how just a few miles away she had a fantasy closet filled with the most coveted designer offerings, while here it was a choice between the cheap denim miniskirt she’d arrived in, a souvenir T-shirt featuring her face, or whatever she could cull from Tommy’s closet.

  She fluffed her hair around her shoulders and frowned. She’d aimed for pretty but accessible, sexy yet friendly. While she hadn’t exactly nailed the look, she did exude a sort of haunting frailty that might convince Tommy she was in need of his comfort . . . in whatever form that might take.

  Her plan was awful. But she refused to believe it made her an awful person. It was like the old saying went: desperate people do desperate things. At the moment, Madison Brooks felt like the most desperate girl in the world.

  She made for the kitchen, where she unearthed a bottle of Unrivaled tequila from one of the cupboards and carried it into the den with two shot glasses in tow. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she retrieved the bottle of pain pills she’d taken from the safe at Paul’s hideaway and placed two tabs in the bottom of Tommy’s glass.

  With more regret than he’d ever likely believe, she poured the tequila and watched as the pills began to dissolve and bleed seamlessly into the liquid.

  Satisfied, she arranged herself among the couch cushions. Tommy would be back soon, and she wanted him to catch her looking beautiful, alluring, and inviting in a way he’d be unable to resist.

  She’d just reached for the cashmere throw to prop under her ankle, when the doorbell rang and Madison cast a worried look toward the entry.

  Had Tommy misplaced his key?

  A series of quick, insistent taps was followed by a voice softly calling, “Hey, open up—it’s Aster.”

  Annoyed, Madison dutifully pushed away from the couch and peered through the peephole. Sure enough, Aster waited in the hall, wearing a pair of faded old jeans, a gray V-neck tee, a baseball cap, and oversize sunnies. She hugged a large canvas bag to her chest.

  Madison swung the door open and ushered her inside.

  “Ryan’s waiting downstairs,” Aster said in response to the way Madison peered past her shoulder before closing the door.

  Madison nodded, secretly relieved by the words. She had no idea what Aster wanted, but if Ryan was waiting, then she wouldn’t stay long.

  Aster moved into the den and surveyed the scene. Her gaze lighting on the bottle of tequila and the two full shot glasses placed right beside it, she swung toward Madison with a knowing look. “Drinking alone is a really bad sign. You know that, right?”

  “What do you want?” Madison made no attempt to play nice.

  “I could ask you the same,” Aster fired back.

  Madison lifted her chin and kept her manner firm. “Me? I’m just hiding out, lying low, and playing by the rules you all set.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call Detective Larsen right now.”

  “Same list of reasons we already discussed.”

  Aster steeled her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re up to with”—she gestured toward the shot glasses—“whatever that’s supposed to be. But don’t drag Tommy into your schemes. He’s gone out of his way to help you. The least you can do is respect the risk he’s taking and not use him to relieve your boredom or loneliness or whatever story you’ve told yourself that makes it okay for you to seduce someone you don’t actually give a shit about.”

  Madison’s anger flared, but it would do no good to show it. “Well, look at you with the moral outrage.” She laughed. “Wasn’t so long ago you had no guilt about stealing my boyfriend.”

  “You can’t steal a person who isn’t open to leaving.”

  Madison smirked. “And to think you were once my biggest fan. According to your former friend Safi, you kept an entire file filled with pictures of me.”

  “And then I met you and realized everything about you is a lie.” Aster’s eyes blazed, and her tone was defiant. “The only one you’ve ever cared about is you. I can shut you down with a single phone call. So you better tread carefully where Tommy’s concerned.”

  Aster was looking for a fight, but Madison refused to indulge her. Tommy would be home soon, and she couldn’t afford another hitch in her plan. “Is there another reason you’re here?” She gestured toward the canvas bag Aster clutched in her arms.

  “Layla thought you might need some clothes.” Aster sneered at Madison’s getup and dumped the sack on a nearby chair. “Clearly she was right.”

  Madison plucked the first item from the top. It was a pale pink T-shirt featuring a fading photo of a kitten. “Wow, thanks,” she said. “Did you pick this out yourself?”

  “That’s from Layla’s ironic T-shirt phase. But not to worry, I managed to dig up an ugly sundress or two. Turns out your usual stylist is busy dressing Heather Rollins. Besides, you’re in disguise, remember?”

  Madison returned the T-shirt to the pile. On the one hand, it was a nice gesture. On the other, Aster’s obvious glee at handing her a bag of their ugliest discards made it hard to be grateful.

  Aster had just reached the door when she said, “Listen, Tommy’s an adult and he makes his own choices. But while you might be able to fool him, just know I see past your shiny surface to the devious, manipulative, selfish person you are.”

  “And yet, you’re still willing to help.”

  Aster sighed. “That says less about you, and more about me.
Don’t make me regret my good deed.”

  With Aster gone, Madison resumed her position on the couch. A few minutes later, when Tommy walked in, she felt her heart skip a beat when his gaze went in search of her.

  Her reaction caught her off guard. Was it the result of the excitement of finally putting her plan into place? Or did she actually like him more than she allowed herself to admit?

  “How’d it go?” She forced a welcoming grin.

  “What was Aster doing here?” Tommy dropped his key fob and phone onto the table and stood before her. “I saw her leaving. She seemed upset.”

  “She brought me some clothes.” She tugged at the hem of the T-shirt, drawing Tommy’s attention to her bare legs. “Guess she doesn’t approve of my outfit.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “What do you think?” She bent one leg and kept the other extended, hinting at a classic pinup pose without being too obvious.

  Tommy’s eyes grazed the length of her, causing her pulse to quicken, her skin to heat. But just when she was sure she had him, a conflicted look washed over his face. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite so easy.

  “You look tense.” She swung her legs around and patted the cushion beside her. “And as it just so happens, I have the perfect remedy right here.” Her violet eyes flashed with promise, as she offered him the shot glass.

  Reflexively, he moved toward her. Her smile brightened; her plan was a go.

  A second later, he withdrew and said, “This is a really bad idea.”

  Madison fought to hide her disappointment. She needed him to drink it. Her immediate future depended on it. “I don’t understand.”

  He swiped a hand through his hair and gazed toward the terrace, contemplating the view for a sobering moment. “You. Staying here.” He shook his head and faced her. “All of it.”

  “But everyone agreed,” she reminded him. “Besides, I have nowhere else to go. . . .” She watched in relief as he sighed deeply and sank onto the cushion beside her. “You want to talk about what’s really bothering you?”

  He shot her a baleful look.

  “You want to make out?”

  His eyes widened with shock, and then he let out a laugh. Leaning his head against the cushions, he said, “I always feel so off center around you.”

  Madison felt herself relax. This, she could handle. “I know, and I wish you didn’t, but I’m used to it. It’s the whole mega celebrity thing. Sometimes I hate how it makes people act so weird and nervous and unnatural around me. Other times, it comes in handy. It’s like an invisible shield keeping people at bay.”

  “Is that what you like—keeping people at bay?”

  “It’s a matter of survival. But now, in times like this, it kinda sucks.”

  Wordlessly, he stared at her.

  “Do you ever think about the night we kissed?”

  Tommy gazed up at the ceiling. “The night you went missing, you mean? Yeah, I live with it every second of every day. It dictates my whole life.”

  “I mean before that. Back when it was just the two of us, sitting in the Vesper, drinking a beer and talking.” She studied his profile, willing him to look at her, to see what she was offering. “It was one of the most normal moments I’d experienced in a really long time. And it’s weird, because I’d just gone through this super-dramatic public breakup and—”

  “A breakup you staged.” Tommy cast a sharp look her way.

  “Still, for that brief time we were together, I was happy. And when you kissed me—”

  “You kissed me.”

  She cocked her head and grinned flirtatiously. “Did I?”

  “I never would’ve made the first move. Not with you.”

  “Why not?” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

  “Uh—because you’re Madison Brooks and I was secretly freaking out just from being near you.”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. When she opened them again, she said, “Can I tell you something?”

  He looked at her.

  “It really wasn’t so secret.”

  To her relief, he laughed.

  “But when we kissed, all of that seemed to disappear until it was just you, me, and whatever song was playing in the background. I can’t even remember, can you?”

  “‘Melt with You,’ Modern English.” Tommy grinned sheepishly. “I remember every moment.”

  She had him. The moment he admitted to remembering the song (the right song, as it turned out, she remembered too), and she watched his gaze grow heavy at the memory, she knew it was time to put her plan into action.

  “I thought about it a lot when I was held captive.” She leaned toward him, handed him the shot glass, and tapped her own against it. “To nice memories.” She raised the glass to her lips, making sure he tossed his back first before she followed suit. “It’s better than I thought it would be.” She rubbed her lips together as she continued to study him. “I had no idea Ira knew his way around tequila.”

  “Not much he doesn’t know his way around.” Tommy refilled their glasses and tossed back another. Madison demurred. She couldn’t afford to lose control of the situation.

  “Speaking of . . . did you find anything?” She watched him closely, but he shook his head no. “I wish there was some way I could help. I feel so useless hiding out here all day by myself. Not to mention how lonely I get . . .” She reached toward him and traced a series of slow circles along the inside of his arm. “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I know you’re taking a big risk just by agreeing to look after me.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “According to Aster, I do.”

  “Did she say something?” Tommy pressed.

  “She was just being protective. Doesn’t want to see you get hurt. But why would I do that when I’m completely indebted to you?”

  She raised her glass, but instead of drinking from it, she wet her lips and said, “I heard your song. ‘Violet Eyes.’”

  Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. Madison could sense the battle waging inside him. He was torn between wanting her and wanting to do the right thing, but she couldn’t allow his conscience to win.

  “No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”

  It was unclear who made the first move, but the next thing she knew she was in Tommy’s arms as he pressed his lips urgently against hers.

  Madison leaned into the kiss. Her tongue swirling in tandem with his, she twined her fingers in his hair and anchored a leg over his hip. It felt good to be back in his arms, with her body pushing hard against his. What a shame there was no time to see it all the way to the finish. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

  She dipped her hand low and was delighted by how quickly he responded to her touch. Good. He was right where she wanted him. All that was left now was . . .

  “Tommy?” Her voice barely a whisper, she grinned as she pulled the T-shirt over her head and revealed herself to him.

  Tommy squinted, struggling to focus.

  “Do you love me, Tommy?” She tilted her head and studied him closely.

  He blinked several times. Tried to form words he was unable to voice.

  She dropped the T-shirt to the ground, and arched her breasts toward him, practically begging for his touch. “Do you think I’m lovely, Tommy?”

  He lifted a hand as though it were leaden and fell face-first into her arms.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, brushing his hair from his face as she settled him gently against the cushions and arranged his body into the recovery position in case he got sick. “You’re going to be just fine. Get some rest now. You’ve earned it. I only hope someday you’ll be able to forgive me.” She tucked the throw around his body and kissed his lips tenderly.

  After jotting a quick note, she changed into one of Aster’s ugly sundresses, pocketed the key to Tommy’s car, grabbed her bag and her gun, and stepped into the hall, shutting the apartment door secur
ely behind her.

  THIRTY-TWO

  ALL MY DEAD DRUNK FRIENDS

  Layla stood outside Tommy’s door and pressed hard on the buzzer. He wasn’t answering his phone, wasn’t responding to texts, but according to Aster, he was in there and possibly in need of help.

  Being on Tommy’s permanent guest list allowed easy access to his front door, but it did nothing to get her inside. Only a key card could do that, and it wasn’t like Tommy had ever given her one.

  She watched as a member of the cleaning crew entered an apartment down the hall. Maybe they would help her get in? Then again, it was just as likely Aster was wrong. Sure she’d gone to great lengths to describe the scene Madison had set, but last Layla checked, Tommy was an adult who could decide for himself who he did and didn’t want to sleep with.

  Layla had pushed Madison on him for precisely that reason—a sort of test to see if there was still something between them. If she and Tommy were ever going to make it work, Layla needed to know he was really and truly over whatever he and Madison once shared.

  If it turned out he was still into her, well, it wouldn’t be easy, but at least Layla would know where she stood. She’d always been more comfortable dealing with the truth. As a journalist, facts were her friends. She took the same approach to her personal life.

  She was halfway to the elevator, when she found herself sneaking a peek inside the open apartment and giving a little wave. “Hi, um . . .” She forced a friendly grin and forged ahead. “My friend lives a few doors down, and he’s not answering. I was wondering if you could maybe let me in?”

  Well before she could get to the end, the woman was already shaking her head.

  “I know it’s against the rules,” Layla said, unwilling to surrender so easily. “But I thought maybe just this once you could—”

  “You’re Layla Harrison.” The woman placed a hand on her hip as Layla tried not to cringe under her scrutiny. “And you’re asking me to help you break into Tommy Phillips’s apartment?”