Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

“That’s good. Call me after. I want to hear all about it.”

“I will. Thanks, Mom. I love you,” I said with a smile as I walked toward the front door.

“Love you too.”

The paparazzi that had camped outside followed me again all the way to the Warren Taylor offices, but stopped short of entering the underground parking. This wasn’t front-page news, but my visiting an agency that didn’t currently represent me would make headlines. I speculated about the news reaching Jayson before I ever talked to him.

The elevator doors opened, and I walked through a set of glass doors and into the spacious lobby area.

“Miss Lockwood.” A young receptionist greeted me by name as I entered. “Miss Myers is expecting you. If you’ll follow me.” She unplugged her headset from her phone and led me around a white column where the offices opened up.

As I walked down the long hallway, I experienced a nostalgia from a time I wasn’t a part of. Old black-and-white head shots of celebrities from days past lined the walls, evoking eras that felt more like eons ago than decades. I couldn’t believe how many stars had been associated with this company, and pride filled me at my merely being in their presence, even if it was only in photographs. As we walked, I scanned the walls that seemed to be divided by era, the photographs eventually transitioning from black and white to color as they became more recent.

Waving a hand toward an open door, she smiled. “Right in there,” she said before walking away.

I stepped through the doorway into an outer office, where an assistant looked up from her computer screen. “Hi, Miss Lockwood—”

“Please. Call me Paige.”

She smiled and nodded before peeking through the open doorway behind her into what I assumed was Madison’s office. “Paige Lockwood is here to see you, Miss Myers.”

“Ooh, send her in.” Madison’s voice rose in pitch, and I laughed softly to myself.

I turned to her assistant and thanked her before entering the office. The door closed behind me, and I glanced back before turning around to see Madison walking toward me. She engulfed me in a friendly hug, and I almost broke down right then and there at her genuine and unexpected affection.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said. “And I love your hair. It looks great!” She smiled as she reached out to touch a shoulder-length strand.

“Thanks. It’s good to see you too. Nice office.” I looked past her desk and through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the busy street below. The paint was white but with the faintest hint of blue that had a calming effect.

“Isn’t it ridiculous in here? I feel so out of place half the time with my one whopping client and all.” She waved a hand toward the space on her wall dedicated to Walker Rhodes. Walker wasn’t only the hottest singing-sensation-turned-actor in the United States; he was also her boyfriend.

“I bet he loves all the one-on-one attention.” I smiled at his framed head shot on her wall.

“Oh yes, he’s quite a handful, that one. I’ll probably ditch him soon,” she lied with a playful grin.

“I would,” I teased her. “You know how those celebrities can be. And forget even trying to date them.”

We both laughed before Madison’s expression grew serious. “Paige, what’s going on? Why are there all these false reports about where you’ve been, and why is no one putting a stop to them? I find it hard to believe that you were in re

hab, had an abortion, or tried to kill yourself.”

“Well, at least one person knows the truth.”

She sucked in a quick breath. “Look, usually I might suggest you ride this out, wait until a bigger story comes along and takes the spotlight off of you. But for now I don’t see that happening, and as long as you continue to ignore it and not say anything about it, you’re only fueling the fire.”

“What am I supposed to say? That I left town and drove until my car got a flat, and I fell in love with some guy and didn’t want to come back?”

Madison fell back into her chair. “Is that what happened?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds like a book I read recently,” she said with a smile.

“Sounds like a cliché. My God, my life is such a cliché.” I rolled my eyes at the ceiling, thinking about how often I’d thought that about myself lately.

“That’s how clichés get made. Because they’re true,” she said sagely.

My mind made up, I plopped down into her guest chair and announced, “Madison, I want to hire you to represent me.”