Confusion overtook Silbie. She didn't know which was worse. Mom's phone call or Jo's prediction. People believed what they wanted regardless of the truth. Only a few months into Hollywood life and the realization of how fake everything was had Silbie reeling. Facts interested no one, especially reporters. They wanted to twist words into sensational scoops to fuel their own rise to fame—no matter who they hurt along the way.

That had to be the reason for Mom's strange tone. She'd read the propaganda regarding the fake relationship with Logan, and since Silbie had never mentioned it, the family was upset.

She wandered into the kitchen of the guesthouse. Jo's offer to let her stay here was too good to pass up. Silbie appreciated the kindness. She closed her eyes. Took a breath. Was it thoughtfulness—or a way to keep tabs on a top-grossing client? Damn. The movie wasn't released yet, and she was already jaded.

The chocolates she'd brought home from the wrap party tempted her. She lifted the lid from the box and hovered a finger over the selections as if playing a game of eeny-meeny. Before, she'd bite into the bottom of every single one and eat the ones that tasted good, but now she had to be more selective. She needed to watch her carbs or she might not fit into Rayne's costume. She never thought satin and spandex would occupy her wardrobe. The last thing she wanted was Twitter speculating if a weight gain was a baby bump.

Outside, by the pool, Jo looked like a televangelist, pacing, waving, talking into a wireless headset—probably to her lawyer. God help him. Her big personality sucked all the air out of a room. The internet claimed it led to her current divorce battle. Silbie knew better.

Jo usually twisted her hair into a French knot, but today, the long auburn strands fell in riotous curls over the nape of her neck. With wide-set green eyes and pouty lips, she was beautiful enough to have pursued her own movie career. But being in front of the camera didn't interest her. She said discovering new talent was the joy of her life. Her first success, husband Rich Diamond. He'd been on the path to superstar status, but once he'd fallen into booze and drugs, even Jo couldn't resuscitate his career. Two box office flops and it was over.

She ended the call and plopped onto the end of the chaise and sobbed. Jo never exposed this side in public. She always came across as self-assured and shrewd as anyone in the business.

Silbie hated seeing her this way. She peeked out of the back door. "Hey, Jo! How about a glass of wine?" Silbie wasn't old enough to drink, but no one really cared now that she was semi-famous. Besides, she needed to cheer up Jo.

Apparently startled, Jo grabbed her chest, and spoke over her shoulder. "Okay. Be there in a minute." She straightened, raked fingers through her hair, then knelt by the pool and splashed water on her face. As she walked toward the open doorway, her bright caftan fluttered like butterfly wings. Wiping her cheeks, she stepped inside. "Whew! It's warm out there. I had to cool off a bit. I bet my face is as red as my hair."

Silbie popped the cork, then poured into the glasses already on the counter. A little for her, more for Jo.

"Not sure it's the weather that has you hot and bothered. That phone conversation looked intense. Your lawyer?"

"Nope. Captain Fuck-a-lot."

Silbie smiled. Jo stockpiled an arsenal of names for Rich, most not as mild. "I thought he was only supposed to speak through his attorney."

"He is, but the news he got today upset him."

It was none of Silbie's business, so she didn't ask. But she wanted to know.

Jo sipped, eyed Silbie over the rim of her glass, then set down the goblet. "Aren't you curious?"

Silbie shrugged, "Yes."

"Lump sum payment is all he'll get. He begged me to take him back. Claims he still loves me. I have a feeling the ironclad prenup I have in place has something to do with him wanting to reconcile."

"I'm sorry."

Jo took another drink, then held the glass midair. "Yeah. Me, too. Sad part is I still love him too. Really love him. To the marrow of my bones. The deepest place in my soul. But sometimes love isn't enough. So now it becomes a negotiation."

Jo swallowed the last of her drink, picked up the Merlot and refilled her glass. "I would have done anything for him. All I asked in return was fidelity. I was stupid. Won't make that mistake again."

Silbie shook her head. "Don't give up on love. There are good people out there. But, the movie business isn't fertile ground for lasting marriages."

"So, I should look for love where—the grocery store? Because it's just about the only place I go other than work. Don't get me wrong, some of them might be nice in the sack, but not sure they'd be interested in a forty-year-old."

"I bet your friends know some singles, and they can't all be in the business." Silbie finished her drink. "Why don't you join a dating site?"

Jo lowered her chin and raised her eyes. "Tell me you're not serious."

Silbie stared and said nothing.

"Oh. Dear. Lord. You are. Listen, Sil. There is no way in hell I'll join a site where I list things such as— I'm bi, looking for a guy or girl who loves to walk in the rain—visit art galleries—and loves camping in the wilderness."

"Really?"

"No," Jo deadpanned. "I hate all those things. Basically, I want a partner who's kind to humans as well as animals. Has a job. Is on speaking terms with their family. And finally, and this is most important, has no problem keeping the goods in their pants."

Silbie laughed. "That's funny. My sister-in-law can write a song about that. You could post it along with your profile."

Jo flapped her hand as if swatting flies. "Not happening. Besides, I'm not officially divorced yet, and by the time I am, I'll need a lover strong enough to push a wheelchair. Now, enough about me. Let's talk about you. The Rayne sequel starts shooting right after the first of the year, and Sam's pushing for a four-month production. If all goes well, it should hit theaters in late summer."

Silbie corked the bottle and put it away."Is the cast all in place?"

"Yep. Except you still have to sign the contract, but I spoke with the studio last night and jacked them up to seventeen million. The paperwork will be here in the morning before you leave for Texas."

Silbie hiked her hip onto a barstool. Seventeen million? More than most made in a lifetime. What would she do with all of it? Buy shoes? Buy a big house for a party of one?

Others were more deserving. Firemen, cops, and men like her brother, Gabriel, a utility lineman—and Owen. They put their lives in danger every day. All she did was play dress-up.

Jo patted her hand. "Stop! I see those wheels turning. First rule of negotiation. It isn't what you're worth, it's what they're willing to pay. You have nothing to feel guilty about. But if you do, then find a cause and make a difference. You know. Save the Whales. Naked Clowns. Electric chairs for incels."

Silbie laughed. "You made up those last two."

"Actually, no. I just threw them in for emphasis. Money's not a bad thing. Bad people do bad things with it, but people like you do a world of good. And there's no question you have a big heart.  I knew the moment I met you. That's the reason I wanted to represent you." She smiled. "That and the fact you're going to make me a shitload of money. But that's just a bonus. I can protect you from all the hype and truly make you a household name. Fame wields more power than assets, and I can make you powerful. The only thing you have to do—trust me."

Silbie wanted to believe her, but how could she when Jo already had her lying to the whole world?

What do you think, can we trust Jo?

TEASER: "I thought it best to wait and hope for the best, but..."