Escorting the Actress (The Escort Collection 2)

She stood suddenly. "I have to go."

She headed into the bedroom, and I scrambled after her.

"Go where?" I watched as she fumbled for her suitcase and randomly stuffed clothes into it.

"Home. Back to Los Angeles. Away from our crazy parents. I can't do this to you. I can't unleash the crazy of my mom on you. You're so close to making everything okay with your dad."

"Okay," I said as nonchalantly as I could manage. I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and put it on the bed.

"What're you doing?"

"Packing to go back to LA with you."

She shook her head, and although I didn't think it was possible, my heart sank even lower. "No. You're staying. You have a deal with your father."

I stared at her. "I had a deal with you first."

"That deal's off." She wouldn't look at me.

"You have a commitment to Lucas. And Shirley. The premiere's coming up. Just let me come out for that." I hated the wheedling tone in my voice, but I felt panic descending on me.

"No." She stalked into the bathroom and almost violently threw her shower kit into her bag. "This stops now. I've already told more lies than I thought I was capable of. We've already hurt our parents. I don't want to keep going until we hurt each other." She grabbed her bag, threw on her flip-flops, and headed toward the door.

"You are not walking out on me right now. This is fucking ridiculous. You're acting like a child."

"I am not." She still wouldn't look at me as she headed out the door.

"Dammit! Stop!"

But she didn't. I ran out after her, shoeless and wearing no shirt.

The elevator doors were about to close, but I wedged myself in and grabbed her wrist. "You said you didn't want to hurt me. You're hurting me now."

"I can't do this. I can't ruin your life," she said. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she had that stubborn set to her jaw.

"You haven't! You've made it a thousand times better! I'm a better man because I've been with you!"

The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and she rushed out.

"Just come back upstairs," I pleaded.

"No." Lowell stormed throug

h the lobby doors. The skies were darkening as if it was about to rain. She turned to me. "Kyle"—she sounded as if she was trying to keep her voice on an even keel—"go back upstairs. Go to work tomorrow. I'll call you from home."

"Don't do this to me, Lo." My voice was shaking, and my hands were clenched into fists.

"I'll send the full fee to Elena. Don't worry about that." She sounded as though she was trying to be all business, intentionally cold.

"I'm not worried!" I practically spit. "I already quit! I don't care about the stupid money! Yours or my father's!"

Her face faltered a little, but fine actress that she was, she recovered almost immediately.

I stared at her until she looked at me. "If you want to leave me, think it through. And please don't do it because you think you're protecting me."

Her eyes flashed, and I couldn't tell if it was in anger or because I'd hit a nerve.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.