“Seriously,” I groaned, looking back to him. Amelia giggled, wrapping her arm around my waist.

Ignoring us both, he turned on the television.

“Thank you, Katie, for that weather forecast. Now over to Andrew Thomson, coming to us live from South Lawndale.”

“Thank you, Jeffery. I am standing only feet away from this apartment right in the heart of the Little Village where the manhunt for the notorious drug runner, Frank Joseph Sloan, who was caught on camera shooting at police in Monday’s massive bust, has revved up as the body of one of his possible accomplices was just found early this morning when neighbors reported a horrible stench coming for the complex above them ... father of the former child star and actor Noah Sloan, police have doubled the reward for any information leading to an arrest.”

“Turn it off!” I snapped angrily, stepping away from Amelia. “I need to find him. I need—”

“You need to prepare for the interview I set up for today,” Austin said, cutting me off.

“You did what?”

“You. Dalila Alexandra. Sixty unfiltered minutes of you telling the world all about yourself.”

He had lost his mind. “Austin, my father—”

“He will get caught. This will all resolve itself. You are not a bounty hunter. You are not a cop. You are an actor. An actor who, I will remind you, has a blockbuster movie coming out, but instead of that, they are connecting your name to that of a criminal. I shouldn’t need to connect the dots for you. You need to go on television and tell the world exactly what you told those cops. Frank is your estranged father. Your actions are in no way connected to his, and you are a morally right, upstanding human being who they should not have any issues supporting in theaters.”

“Austin…” My voice trailed off as I tried to think of something to say, but I had nothing.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll be there—” Amelia started.

“No, you will not,” Austin, once again stepped in. He was apparently on a power trip this morning. “You, Amelia London, are also an actress, not Noah’s sidekick. You are not playing the role of the faithful girlfriend today. Not only will it look like Noah can’t stand on his two feet without you, but also because people are going to get fucking tired of seeing your faces together before the movie comes out. You are Amelia. He is Noah. You are a couple. But you both are enterprises in your own rights. You want to help him, Amelia, then we need more of what you did last night. I need you to be Amelia London, the Oscar-winning actress. So you are not going to be anywhere near him today. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” she muttered, wide-eyed, a small grin growing wider and wider on her face.

“Beautiful. Since you two managed to get out of bed this morning at a respectable hour, we can get a jump on things. Amelia, get dressed,” he said before focusing on me. “And you—eat something and shave before the makeup crew arrives. I scheduled this thing for early this afternoon on the patio of the penthouse. I want you looking strong, assertive, and healthy.”

He stretched the last part as he stole my cigarettes.

“Nothing is going to change if I don’t smoke for a few hours.”

“We will see,” he replied, checking through his phone. “Chop chop.”

“He’s a slave driver, but he’s right,” Amelia giggled, kissing my check.

I know. That’s what made him so goddamn annoying.

Amelia

Taking a seat in the back of the Mercedes, I wanted to high-five him. “Austin, you were amazing. And for a second, you had even me believing I had something planned for today.”

 “You do,” he said, for some reason sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Where is Daniel?”

“He’ll be staying with Noah. I prefer him having muscle behind him.”

“Right,” I replied, relaxing into the backseat, and then remembering … “Wait. I thought we were going to—”

“This morning, you will be having brunch with the young sponsors of the W.E.W.A. that you honored last night. Beautiful speech, by the way. However, in the future, take a second to call me and let me know before you randomly go to awards ceremonies. I hate finding out things after the fact.”

“Austin?” I sat up straighter, looking at him. My question was serious. “Do you ever sleep?”

He snickered and didn’t answer, which had to mean ‘no,’ or at least not an amount that was healthy. Somehow he had managed to set up an interview for Noah, get me into brunch, and think over the other issue I had brought up to him all in one morning.

“Are you sure Noah is okay?” I asked. Dalila Alexandra wasn’t just any reporter. She had made a name for herself by questioning and pushing celebrities, politicians, even princes, with her questions. She pulled no punches, and there was no line she wouldn’t cross. In some ways, it was an honor to be on her radar, but in most ways, it was an annoyance. I had met more than a handful of actors and actresses who just walked out on their interviews with her.

“He’ll be fine. Contrary to popular belief, Noah is actually very good with interviews, especially if they’re important ones. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trending once it airs.”

“Yeah, but he’s your client. You should be—”

“You are also my client, and I also flew out my assistant last night. I usually keep him in the office, but with the promotions coming up, I’m going to need backup.”

“You, backup? You’re like a one-man army. I don’t understand how or why you are so … so dedicated. Not that it’s a bad thing. But I’ve never met a manager like you, who has no boundaries.”

“That’s because Oliver was your manager while you were a child as well. Everything is simple when you are a child. You might not have felt that way, but it’s the truth. The problem is that most managers can’t transition with their clients when they become adults. They still see you as a child who needs to be micro-managed. And too many actors are so loyal that they allow it. The truth of the matter is that having a good, even a great, manager is important. But that doesn’t change the fact that there will always be another manager worth having. However, there will not always be an actor worth working for. ”

I knew he wasn’t talking about me, per se, but it was still me. I remembered how badly I wanted to hold onto Oliver months ago, and not because I needed him for my career, but because I was comfortable with him.

“And Noah is the actor worth working for? That’s why you left your old job to become his manager?”

He didn’t reply, and I didn’t push, though I really wanted to.

All too soon, we were in front of the very same hotel I had been to the night before. Austin stepped out, opening the door for me.

“Amelia,” he said softly before I could even move from the door, his face stern, “the moment we are done here, we’ll move to what you asked for last night.”

For some reason, it felt like my heart sank to my stomach. I’m not sure why, because I wanted this. I couldn’t stop thinking about it getting it done and over with. However, when I looked into his eyes, I realized what we were going to do was horrible. It wasn’t something I should want to do or even something I looked forward to. It was a terrible means to an end, and I was an awful person—but that didn’t change the fact that it needed to be done.

“Got it.”

Noah

Earlier, when I was thinking of the things I hated about Chicago, I had forgotten to add Dalila Amen-Alexandra to that list. Born of Egyptian immigrants, graduated from Loyola University with honors, worked her way from radio to daytime news announcer to her own nighttime show, all before the age of thirty. There was no denying that she was a hardworking person. I did not know her personally, nor was I fortunate enough to ever have an interview with her, but she made my list based solely on the way she treated those across from her … like we weren’t human. Like her questions didn’t hurt or affect us, like we were just a spectacle and she had the right to expose anything and everything to the public because they were interested.