Page 92 of Shine For Me

“I need to call him back,” I say, my voice strangely high-pitched. All I can think about is the way my mother might react if Jimmy Cain showed up at her house.

“You don’t,” Fox says firmly. “Not yet.”

But I brush him off, walking out of the kitchen. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how much this could hurt her. I have the phone to my ear before I reach the living room, the call already connecting in Los Angeles.

“Where the fuck have you been?” my grandfather bellows in my ear the second he picks up.

“I didn’t have my phone on.”

“Unacceptable, Juniper! This is a giant pile of shit you’ve landed us into.”

I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the instinct to cower away from his anger.

“This shouldn’t be that big of a deal,” I say, impressed that my voice is so calm. “We were going to announce the break-up anyhow—”

“And now it will look like we’re just saving face,” he snaps. “The governor is not pleased. You’ve humiliated his son.”

I could point out the very many times that Adam humiliated me, both in the press and in person, but that’s not really the point. “The governor is not my concern anymore.”

“Like hell he isn’t! What do you think happens to your career if the governor of fucking California has a vendetta against us?”

I take a deep breath. “I think you’re making too much of this. He’s not going to shut down your studio because I stopped dating his son.”

“Three hundred million dollars, Juniper. That’s the amount of money the state is awarding for new soundstage construction next year. We’re counting on a cut of that incentive. How much do you think we’ll get if Garland decides we’re on his shit list?”

“Then fight back!” I yell. “He needs you, too, Jimmy! Wasn’t that the whole point of this sham? He wanted your connections with the unions and your access to all the big money donors in the industry.”

“I don’t have time to get into a pissing match with the fucking governor, young lady. I have a million things on my plate this week. Just because you can’t follow the simplest instructions—”

I want to throw up. I should have known he would be this unreasonable. “Grandpa—”

“No, you’re listening now,” he shoots back. “You’re going to get your ass to San Francisco in the next two hours. Adam will meet you there. We’ll arrange for a few photographers to get you walking into lunch together—”

“What?” I shriek. “I’m not doing that.”

He continues as if I didn’t say a word. “We’ll have sources contact some of the bigger blogs and tell them it’s Adam in the picture from the bar.”

“Adam doesn’t have blond hair!”

“The shot isn’t clear,” he says dismissively. “The important thing is that there will be new pictures of the two of you for them to print. It won’t be enough to stop all the gossip, but having your names in the papers has always been good for Garland’s polling. It should keep him off my ass.”

I look up to see Fox standing in the doorway to the living room, Jude behind him. From the pissed off look on both their faces, I wonder if Jimmy is screaming loud enough to hear across the room. Or maybe they’re both just reading the horror on my expression.

I only know one thing—I will not do this to Fox. I won’t do it to myself.

“Jimmy, I’m not going to San Francisco,” I say as calmly as I can, never taking my eyes off Fox. “I told you before I’m done playing this game. If you would have announced the break-up when I asked this wouldn’t have happened.”

“And if you would have just done what was good for this family, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation! You’d still be with Adam and—”

“Are you kidding me right now? He cheated on me, Jimmy! A month before we were supposed to get married!”

Fox goes completely still and I realize that I had never actually told him that. Great. Another reason to be embarrassed. Behind him, my brother looks like he’s going to start breaking things.

“That’s entirely irrelevant,” Jimmy says, unconcerned.

Jesus. I knew my family was messed up, but this…

I turn away from Fox, too ashamed by my grandfather to even look at him. “Jimmy, I’m not going to San Francisco. I’ll call Justin Sinclair myself and we can work out a statement. I told you I was done and I meant it.”