Blacklist (Beautiful Idols 2)

Aster stared at her, speechless, watching as Layla sprang angrily from the couch and went to stand before the window.

“You okay?” Tommy called after her. Though despite his concern, Layla ignored him and focused on her phone.

Were they a couple? Aster’s gaze darted between them. However they chose to define it, something was going on between them. As long as it didn’t interfere with the work they were all trying to accomplish, she figured it was none of her business.

It’d been a long, crazy night and the sun would be coming up soon. Aster was feeling tired and cranky, and the last thing she needed was to get worked up over one of Layla’s signature snarky comments. Sure, she’d made an assumption, but it was based on Layla’s own theory regarding the photographs in Madison’s house. Though Layla was so incensed, Aster decided to let it go. No point in antagonizing her more.

“What was the name of that office building you guys were at earlier?” Layla looked up from her cell to focus on Aster and Ryan.

Aster squinted, unable to recall, as Ryan said, “Uh, I don’t know—something like Acacia Business Park, maybe?”

Layla held up her phone to show a picture of what appeared to be a burning building.

“Apparently, there was an explosion,” she said. “The whole thing is in flames.”

Instinctively, Aster reached for the gold-and-diamond hamsa pendant, only it was no longer there.

“Omigod! Oh no!” She jumped from the couch and checked where she’d been sitting. Then, upending the cushion, she checked under there too. Her hand clutching uselessly at her neck, her mind fiercely rewound to where she might’ve left it. “My necklace! I think I lost it—it’s gone!”

“Is it sentimental?” Ryan asked, a confused look on his face.

Layla said, “I know you’re fond of it, but as far as good luck charms go, it didn’t seem to be working.”

Aster shook her head. Overcome with panic, she struggled to push the words past her lips. “I think it might be in that office! I think it fell off when Ryan pulled me to the ground when that security guard came to the window! We have to go back—we have to go get it!”

“Aster, we can’t.” Ryan reached for her hand and clasped it firmly in his. He spoke slowly, calmly, like one does to a child. “The building’s on fire—it’s swarming with cops and firefighters. Besides, there’s no way to know if it fell off there. You could’ve lost it anywhere. When was the last time you noticed you had it?”

Aster sank to the floor and buried her face in her hands. A second later, Ryan was kneeling beside her, pulling her into his arms. She wanted so badly to be comforted, but the gnawing pit in her stomach told her she was doomed. With all the crimes she’d been falsely accused of—all the manipulated evidence pitted against her—she could hardly believe she’d just dealt herself a very real, possibly fatal blow. “I don’t know,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I can’t remember.”

He ran a soothing hand over her hair. “It’s okay,” he promised. “Everything will be fine. There’s no need to panic. I’m sure it’ll show up eventually.”

“I’ll check the backseat of my car when I leave,” Tommy offered.

Aster untangled herself from Ryan’s arms and swiped a hand over her cheeks. “Okay,” she said, forcing herself to breathe, forcing herself to believe that Ryan was right, she was overreacting, and it would all be okay.

Outside the window, a new day was dawning. Maybe, just maybe, this one would work in her favor.

THIRTY-ONE

WALKASHAME

Trena Moretti propped a pile of pillows behind her head and watched as James walked from the bed to the bathroom. As far as men went, James was as fine a specimen as they came, his body so finely honed it was a thing of beauty to see. And Trena enjoyed looking as much as James enjoyed being looked at.

She ran her hands over her skin and kicked her legs out before her, confident she looked as good as she felt. Between her interview with Ira, which had been picked up by news outlets across the globe, and the recent airing of her exclusive televised interview with Aster Amirpour, which had aired well before most of the world even realized Aster was out on bail, Trena found herself suddenly sought after by just about every news station that mattered, including those that’d once rejected her.

Her phone buzzed from the nightstand where she’d placed it, but Trena opted to ignore it. A journalist was rarely off duty, but for the moment anyway, her only plan was to revel in the glow of her recent bout of success. Last night, for the first time since she’d arrived in LA, she’d stood among the glittering masses and felt at home.

Normally, a glitzy product launch was exactly the kind of invitation she’d snub. Her party-going days were well behind her, not to mention how she found that sort of commercial hype especially annoying. But Ira Redman’s party was not to be missed. While it wasn’t exactly the Met Ball, there was no doubt it would be widely photographed and endlessly talked about. She also had Ira to thank for the sudden uptick in her star meter. And then there was the matter of the guest list—comprising the hottest celebrities, many of them members of Madison’s circle. And the very fact that James would be there as well had given Trena something to look forward to.

While seducing him hadn’t been nearly as easy as she’d assumed, it didn’t take long to determine that the key to getting with James was to let him think it was entirely his idea, and not hers. Clearly he was a guy who enjoyed the chase, and after an initial reluctance, Trena gladly gave up the reins and let him believe he was in charge.

By the time the lights had gone out, the deal was well on its way to being sealed. The heat between them was incendiary—the only thing left to determine was how soon and where. While there were plenty of bedrooms to choose from, Trena was too discreet for a semipublic hookup. So when the lights came back on about fifteen minutes later, she simply looked him in the eye and said she should probably head home. Next thing she knew, he’d invited her back to his place, and the rest was . . . Trena grinned to herself . . . the rest was worthy of remembering next time she found herself feeling lonely and unloved.

“I’m gonna shower.” James peeked his gorgeous shaved head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Trena grinned and rubbed one long leg against the other. “Sure, let me know when you’ve got the water good and hot.”

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