After a tough week of dodging bullets from this rude-ass reporter—that Leo had told me to ignore—Leo and I had no choice but to meet face-to-face with his manager, Petra, for some damage control.

Wherever this dude had been since we started dating, he'd suddenly surfaced now that we were officially official, and it was a problem. He posted daily articles about us and how fake we were. How all our social media posts were staged. And how Leo was covering up his sexual antics by posing with a pretend girlfriend. What the guy said about me wasn't much better—I was using Leo to get ahead in my fashion career, which was flailing and far from a success.

By that point, Leo finally realized we needed to do something. This awful man wouldn't stop unless we acted against him, and took measures to prevent him from insulting us like that.

"I can't do anything," said Petra, clasping her hands in her lap. Leo had welcomed her at his home, which he assured me wasn't a regular thing. They'd usually talk over the phone or meet for coffee, and once in a blue moon he'd go to her office. But this house-call was necessary.

"What do you mean you can't do anything?" Leo raked his fingers through his wild hair for the fifteenth time, his hazel eyes aflame with suppressed rage. Stewart Sfuria's well-calculated, spiked words had hit him square in the chest, and today's article was too raw, too fresh.

"Leo Lee is a cheater, does his fake girlfriend know that? He cheats, he plays with cheaters, he lies. That poor thing will get her metaphorical heart broken, huh?"

Not that I'd developed a thick skin against him—insulting Leo meant insulting me, at this point—but Stewart's articles were repetitive, circling around the same topics that we weren't together, Leo wasn't that good of a singer, and I had no talent. Annoying and aggravating as it was, I'd stopped reading his paragraphs all the way through.

Petra's soft copper hair glowed in the morning sunlight streaming through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows, but her expression didn't glow along with it. Her big blue eyes were dark, deceptively so; one might think her to be an enchantress on the verge of throwing out a spell to entice and confuse. But after a few moments in her presence, I sensed nothing but warmth from her. She was much younger than I'd thought, possibly younger than me, and bubbly when she walked into the room, lighting it up with her positivity. She was a busy woman, managing many other celebrities, and tiny as she was—smaller than me—I'd wondered how she did it, how she stood up to all these billionaires and told them what to do.

But after hearing her speak—fast-paced, high-pitched, not giving a shit—I knew she was fierce and didn't let anyone step on her.

Not even Leo, who looked ready to strangle her.

"Look, I'm sorry, but until he says something truly defamatory and threatening against you guys, my hands are tied. The media," she winced, "is the media. Why this guy came out of the woodwork now, and targeted you is beyond me, but you'll have to suck it up." She eyed me, her gaze stern. "Both of you."

I sat across from her in the worn-out leather chair that Leo indicated was an old heirloom from his family. It was my favorite spot to chill and read in, but I was far from chill at that point. "We can't even slap him with a fine or something?"

"He's within his rights." Petra sighed, scrolling through her phone. "The only thing you can do is focus on your careers and continue to enjoy yourselves. This thing," she gestured at me, then at Leo, "is all real now, right? That's what Leo told me."

We both nodded, and my cheeks grew hot as Leo's gaze softened while he looked at me. He smiled, winked, then returned to Petra, glowering, silently seething.

Petra was one of the few people in on the secret that we hadn't started out really dating. But Leo felt it necessary for her to know the truth, and I agreed.

"Great, so here's what I propose." She put her phone on the coffee table and crossed one leg over the other. "Shake things up a bit. You," she jutted her chin at me, "get moving with your fashion ideas. And you," she switched to Leo, "take another hiatus from SMASH and go solo."

I shrugged, but she was right; amidst all this life-changing stuff, going from Cameron, to fake-dating Leo, to real-dating Leo, I'd put my career on hold. I'd done some research and put together some theories of what I wanted to do, but I hadn't acted on anything or taken any serious steps forward.

"Another solo round?" Leo's fury simmered a smidgen as he dropped onto the couch near Petra. His fists were still tight, and I noticed the rigidity of his arms and shoulders, but the fire in his eyes diminished. "Okay, I think that might be an idea. The boys have mentioned they're tired from touring and kind of want to spend time with their families."

"Splendid," said Petra, with a fake British accent that actually suited her so well, I wondered if she was from the United Kingdom and masking her true identity to blend in. She'd taken tea instead of coffee, and if one looked at her hard enough, she might have been a sweet young royal princess in disguise. She sat so properly, and when she spoke, even quickly, there was a poise and eloquence to her rhythm. "Then we can address the issue of your open PA spot."

Leo stiffened. "Ah."

I raised my eyebrows. "Open PA spot?"

Petra cringed as she leaned forward to grab her teacup. "Cameron's spot." Leo and I both flinched at the name. "I know, I know, there's some tension and animosity there, but we can't pretend his absence hasn't been noticed. Your schedule has been a nightmare for me to look over, and Cameron was the best..." She cleared her throat as Leo's scowl grew harsher on her. "Sorry, but he was the best with your schedule, okay? And coordinating your security teams."

Leo folded his arms and huffed, resembling a fed-up child being denied dessert. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Fine," Petra took a small sip and puckered her lips, "but in that case, we need to hire his replacement. And your input is necessary in that, Leo."

He rolled his eyes and flattened further into the cushions. "Pick someone and send them my way."

"Rumor has it," Petra settled her teacup back down, "Cameron has found another job."

The way she said it gave me shivers—it was as if she'd said he found another life, another girlfriend, and he'd done so with a snap of his fingers.

"Can you please stop saying his name? I fucked up. We," Leo pointed between us, "fucked up, and we're well aware of it, but he fucked up too, I'll have you know. He was a jerk to both of us and he knew it, that's why he left."

I wanted to belt out how I, personally, hadn't fucked anything up; I'd been stuck as a pawn between them, caught up in their jealousy, in their games. Cameron's moodiness was the fucked up thing, and Leo's insistence on pressing his buttons hadn't helped. Me? I was caught in the middle, and ended up falling into Leo's arms because of it.

Did I miss Cameron? Sure, I did. I'd been this close to falling in love with him, and forgetting those feelings weren't easy. Leo missed him too, I knew, but his behavior had been the last straw. It messed up their friendship, and Leo wouldn't forgive him for that any time soon.

"And so, Emma," Petra's gaze moved to me, freezing me in place, "let's get to you, shall we? What are your thoughts? What do you have in mind for yourself? And how can we help?" Her voice was sugary sweet now that she'd gotten through Leo's complaints and the matter of hiring a new Cameron.

I gritted my teeth and swallowed with difficulty. "I...don't quite know. Fashion is my thing, for sure, and I'd love to write a column for some high-end magazine, or start my own magazine, maybe." On my computer, there were folders upon folders of research I'd done over the years. How to start a magazine, how to put together a portfolio, who to talk to to access the most exclusive fashion shows and behind-the-scenes to photo-shoots. Maybe it was time I added more to that and started acting on it.

"Wonderful! We can definitely help with that." Petra returned to her phone, typing away, her squared, polished nails clacking on the screen. "Which are you more inclined towards, for now? The urge to start your own magazine—that's trickier, I'll admit. Might be better to get you a job at an online review first—"

My throat clearing interrupted her, and she glanced up from her typing to see me shaking my head. "Actually, I kind of want to do this...on my own."

Leo sat up straight and cocked his head. "Huh?"

Petra set her phone in her lap and angled forward, over the coffee-table, a sympathetic look on her face. Almost one of pity, which irked me to the point of frowning at her. "I understand, but wasn't this one of the clauses we used to get you to date Leo in the first place? You agree to our terms, and we get you a job wherever your heart desires. Why the change?"

I wrinkled my nose and stuffed my hands under my thighs, looking down at my bare feet. The truth was...there'd been no change. I'd never intended to take them up on this offer to get me a job. Appealing as it had sounded at first, I'd eventually concluded that I didn't want any handouts. They paid me for dating Leo—and they still were, according to my bank account, and I planned to ask them to stop—and that was already uncomfortable. Now they wanted to hand me the job of my dreams on a golden platter, without me having worked for it? As generous as that sounded, it wasn't me. I wasn't spoiled like this, didn't come from this kind of background. Where I came from, we worked hard for what we wanted, and if we failed, too bad. If we succeeded...

"I'm not the kind of person to take handouts," I said, my voice low, hesitant. The word handout was a tad offensive, and I didn't want to upset them; but I didn't want to lie. "It's appreciated, but I'm a work from the bottom up type of gal."

Though Leo smiled at me and acknowledged my words, Petra continued to grimace at me. She studied me as if I'd announced I was pregnant with triplets, and I knew she wasn't going to let this subject go easily.

But I wouldn't do it her way, the easy way. It didn't feel right. It felt cheap, like I was cheating, and it wasn't fair. Fate decided that I'd cross paths with Leo and he'd change my life considerably; but that was the most I'd accept. He'd already bought me so much, spent so much cash on me...I didn't want any more favors.

Petra stood up, walking around the coffee-table. She plucked her cup from the table and marched over to the window, parting the see-through curtains as she peered outside. "Is that your decision?" She twisted to show her still worried expression as she brought the cup to her lips. "Dating Leo opens doors, but it also...closes them."

"Huh?" I gripped the leather arm-rests and fixated Leo, as if asking for confirmation.

Though he'd seemed accepting of my choice moments ago, he now bunched his lips and narrowed his gaze as he fidgeted in his spot. "Well..." He scrubbed his face. "Okay, dating me has perks, right? But dating me and not using those perks...it could be detrimental."

My mouth opened and closed and opened again. "I don't understand."

"Getting into a field based on talent alone is complicated enough, but when you're famous, you're further tested. No matter how talented you are...you'll be looked at through a finer lens, criticized more, critiqued." Petra took another sip, setting her back to the window. "They wait for you to fail, they almost thrive on it. Since you're dating Leo, you're basically famous by association, so..."

My nails dug into the arm-rests, but I pulled them out before I tore the thing apart. Why was I so angry, so surprised by this? I should have known this stardom stuff was a double-edged sword, and that it wouldn't be easy for me to respect my wishes, to keep my integrity.

But it wasn't like me to back down. "That's okay," I said, inhaling, exhaling, and standing up. "I'm going to do this on my own, but if I feel like I'm slipping and need help, I'll let you know. I don't want anyone to control me."

Petra's eyebrows furrowed, and I realized too late that she must have thought I was referring to her. But before I could muster an apology, she finished her tea, shook hands with us, and left.

"Did I say something wrong?" Leo and I sat on the couch together after she took off, waiting for a takeout delivery.

"No, you're good, she's just..." He blew out a breath and waved an arm around me, pulling me close. His spicy after-shave tickled my nostrils but put me at ease. "She's not used to being told no. The people she manages, me included, are fickle and feisty, and she has a system to keep us all in line, so you denying her help...she'll get over it, though. I apologize for her being so abrupt, especially since this was your first time meeting her."

"She wasn't that abrupt." If anything, Petra had made me smile, at first. Before she got down to business and pushed Leo, pushed me.

"It's how this world of fame works," Leo said, pressing a wet kiss to my temple. "She cares about me, which means she cares about you, too."

I wriggled about in his embrace, torn between giving in to his affection and forgetting this entire episode with Petra, or continuing to stand my ground. "I want to get a job on my own. It's not like I haven't done it before. How do you think I snagged a job at LuXe?"

Leo seized my chin and turned me to face him. "Hey, I believe you're capable of it. But she's right when she says it'll be difficult. You have a leg up now, and if you're not using that to your advantage, you'll be scrutinized as hard as the rest of us billionaire brats." He kissed the tip of my nose. "But do your thing, baby. Remember that I can get you into any magazine at any position, anytime, okay?"

It was tempting. He was tempting. Any time he spoke, he seduced me, wrapped me tighter around his finger, and I wouldn't try to escape. His gorgeous face captivated me, and his mouth called to me as we sat there, staring deep into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make the move to turn this sweet moment into something sexual.

It wouldn't be me. I licked my lips slowly, giving him a hint that I wouldn't stop him if he shoved his tongue down my throat right now.

So...he shoved his tongue down my throat, and a steamy make-out session put on hold any discussions of my career and how I planned to advance in it.

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