His eyes shuddered as he stood and flipped his chair over onto the ground. “You bitch!”

I walked away.

And when I heard dishes shatter against the floor, I began to run.

He wasn’t my problem anymore.

By the time I reached the corner, I was full-on sobbing. Hating myself for taking it so personally.

It was my fault that I’d gotten too attached.

And now . . . I was in danger of doing it again.

I looked up. As luck would have it, Reid’s face was plastered across the nearest billboard—THE TAMING OF THE SHREW: RELEASING SPRING 2016.

A vision of Casey’s first movie billboard popped into my head. Already, Reid felt more like a friend than a client. What was worse? Both of us had crossed those lines, and now it just felt like history was repeating itself, and it would, because it was Reid. What girl wouldn’t get obsessed? What director wouldn’t notice his obvious talent? Not again. I couldn’t go through it again. I wouldn’t. Why the hell didn’t I tell Ren no and save myself the heartache of watching someone else I cared about succumb to fame and fortune while I did what I did best and stayed in the background, invisible?

I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped the tears from beneath my eyes.

Head held high, I hailed a taxi, more determined than ever to make sure Reid was a success. Maybe I needed to prove it to myself more than anyone else, that I could handle it, handle him. I needed to keep my personal feelings on lockdown, even if it meant I had to completely sacrifice my heart in the process.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

REID

Something was wrong with Jordan. For one, her hair was pulled back so tight it looked like her eyebrows hurt. Two, her eyes were puffy. And three, well, her smile was off and seemed forced. Pathetic that I knew which of her smiles were real and which were fake, but there it was.

She’d bulldozed herself into my life three days ago, and now I was concerned for her welfare, all because she looked like she’d just watched the latest Nicholas Sparks and was pissed because he killed someone off—again.

“So.” Jordan cleared her throat. “The segment is on love and sex. They’ll ask you questions about the movie and then some personal questions about relationships. Make sure you sell the whole ‘I’m taming a real-life shrew’ thing, and lucky for you I’m in a hell of a mood so it won’t be a hard sell to the host. Got it?”

I frowned. “Are you sick?”

“What?” She jerked back. “No, why?”

Her hair looked like it hurt. It wasn’t soft or tame—hell, I would have even taken the wild sex hair over the bun she was currently sporting. It also irritated me because it made her look too professional. My eyes greedily searched for some stains on her shirt.

Nothing.

Pristine.

“Did you have a bad day?”

Her shoulders tensed.

“Holy shit, did Casey hit on you? Swear I’ll kill him. Where is he? Give me his number, I’ll break his leg in half!” I started pacing in the elevator.

“Whoa, there.” Jordan braced my shoulders just as we reached the fifth floor. “He’s no longer my client, no breaking necessary.”

“If he touched you—”

“Nope.” Another forced smile. “Creative differences. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

She swept past me and greeted the host, made introductions, then shooed me into the small room.

“Today on Sirius Sex and Love, we have Reid Emory. You may know him from his long stint on Broadway as the Phantom. His debut film releases next spring, The Taming of the Shrew.” Mikey M had a deep voice that I’m sure many a woman listened to on a daily basis. He laughed. “Early reviews are saying this is going to be a breakout role for the young actor, and I gotta say, the buzz surrounding you these last two weeks has been out of this world. So, if you don’t mind, Reid, let’s jump right into it, shall we?”

I took a seat in front of the microphone. “Sure.”

“Now, your real-life Taming of the Shrew with your publicist has been all over the media. Hell, the little video you two shot last night already has over a million hits on BuzzFeed.” Really? Did Jordan not think I should know that little tidbit before going on live radio? “The arch is officially the second-highest trending topic on Twitter, and I just have to ask . . . this thing between you two, is it real?”

“Y-yes.” Oh, great. Stuttering was super helpful. “I’m—” I stopped talking and glanced at Jordan. She wasn’t even paying attention! Her face was ducked and she was typing furiously on her phone. I smirked. Fine, two could play that game. She was embarrassed by me? Trying to ignore the fact that she had responded to me sexually? “Can I shoot straight, Mikey?”

“Sure thing!” He chuckled.

“It’s going horrible.”

I heard Jordan suck in a breath while Mikey leaned forward. “I’m sure our listeners are curious to know why.”

“It’s work. I mean . . . I try to kiss her and she pulls away. The video last night isn’t even the half of it. After we shot it, I took a shower and she got pissed because I forgot to put my clothes in the hamper.”

“So you’re living together?”

“Yeah, and let me tell you, it’s not a cakewalk. The woman basically beats me in my sleep.”

Jordan jumped to her feet and marched over to the microphone while I ducked and covered my head with my hands.