“Oh, Rigby.” He shook his head, a smug grin on his handsome face.

“What?”

“What am I gonna do with you?”

Elle’s breath caught and her heart raced. They sat, staring at one another. Elle had no idea what to say to break the tension. But their staring contest was interrupted by a knock on her office door.

“Elle?”

Luke opened the door, his mouth dropping as he took in the sight of Elle and Troy sharing a meal in her office. “Oh, um . . . sorry to disturb.”

Elle jumped to her feet, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Luke, what—what are you doing here?”

“I’m heading out and I—well, I wanted to say hello. But obviously I’m interrupting, so—” Luke broke eye contact with Elle and her heart sank. She hated putting both of these men in such a precarious situation. Yes, she was honest with both of them. Each of them knew about the other and his presence in her life. But that didn’t keep the guilt at bay. She and Luke were not on the best of terms, but they weren’t exactly over either. Not officially anyway.

“Troy, will you excuse me?”

Troy closed his eyes and sighed, nodding as he looked down at the carton of food in his hands. Elle stood and followed Luke out of the office. When she closed the door behind them, Luke ran his fingers through his hair, looking perplexed, and agitated.

“So you made your choice then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, but at least I get it now. The thing with Gina was a great escape clause for you, wasn’t it?”

“What are you saying?”

“You’ve been looking for excuses to push me away, Elle. Admit it—ever since we met. I’m using you, all I want is fame, I’m sleeping with Gina, I’m lying to you, the list goes on and on. But guess what? None of it’s true.”

Elle crossed her arms in front of her chest, feeling Luke’s words penetrate her heart. The sincere tone in his voice made her question everything she thought she knew, everything she assumed to be the truth about the actor.

“You and me on that hammock—that’s what’s true, Elle. That’s what’s real. Even if you can’t see it.” He pointed toward the door. “You can hide in your memories, hide in your regrets. But I won’t be a part of it anymore.”

Panic spread throughout her body as she watched his eyes moisten. He was fuming, yes, but it was clear he was also heartbroken. The thought of Luke taking his affection, his love, away from her was unbearable. A lump formed in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“I’m done.”

“What?” Elle shrieked, her eyes bulging, her heart plummeting to her feet.

“I can’t do this. I’ve been so concerned about your heart, your feelings, that I’ve ignored my own. So I’m done. Call me when you come to your senses.”

That final comment made irrational anger fill her from head to toe.

“Come to my senses?” she sneered. “Why don’t you call me when you’re done playing games, Luke? Call me when you’re done being Gina’s pawn, when you’re done counting your goddamn Twitter followers, and seeking out paparazzi at the Ivy.”

“Whatever.” He shook his head, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Do you even know who I am?”

Elle drew her head back in disgust. “Oh. My. God. How big has your ego gotten? I’m shocked you even fit through my door!”

Once again, he shook his head, and with a snarl in his voice, he leaned in close. “That’s not what I meant. But you just answered my question, didn’t you? You don’t know me at all.”

Elle looked down at the floor. Conflicting feelings of anger and sadness swirled together, leaving her breathless and unable to protest Luke’s claims. She knew him just fine, thank you very much. Just because he was in denial about his fame-seeking behavior didn’t make her the bad guy. He knew about Troy—she was honest about that from the beginning. If he was willing to throw everything away over a couple of cartons of Chinese food, then that was on his shoulders, not hers.

“Have a nice dinner.”

Luke pressed his knuckles into the door frame before turning his back on Elle and walking down the long hallway. Elle closed her eyes, anger and frustration growing by the second within her mind. She couldn’t go after him since Troy was waiting in her office. And even if she did, she had no idea what to say. He said he was done—what was the point of chasing after someone who obviously gave up on her?

With a new sense of purpose, Elle took several deep breaths and entered her office, slamming the door behind her. Troy stood, concern plastered across his face.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Troy took a deep breath and walked to Elle, taking her hands in his. “Listen, I suppose this is as good a time as any. I know I’ve been indecisive . . . I know I’ve put you through the wringer. And I know I should’ve told you about Amanda.”

Elle looked away, unable to handle back-to-back confrontations. She felt as if the world were playing with her mind, with her heart. Was it possible she would lose both men in just a matter of minutes? If her temper took over as it did with Luke, that was a distinct possibility.

“It’s fine,” she said, looking away, doing her best not to be defensive and urging her tears to stay at bay.

“No, Rigby, I’m done with that.”

She flinched at the word done. Hearing that word from Luke’s mouth had pierced something inside of her, something that might never heal.

“What I mean is, I want to give this a real shot, a real chance. No more punishments or smug comments. No more passive-aggressive bullshit. I want to try to see what’s still here between us.”

Elle was stunned. Hope emerged from the heartbreak within her, and she managed a weak smile. Words failed her, but she stared at Troy with her mouth agape and tears building in her eyes. Tears of relief.

“I can’t tell—are you happy? Disgusted?” A nervous laugh left his lips. “Put me out of my misery, Rigby. Say something, please.”

Elle took a deep breath, looked into Troy’s eyes, and said the first thing that popped into her head. “Want to be my date to the Golden Globes?”

I don’t know,” Elle grumbled, turning her body in front of the full-length mirror. Pressed to her chest was a navy blue dress made almost entirely of lace, with a tight bodysuit underneath. “This is more suited for someone like Gina, don’t you think?”

Eve, the petite network stylist with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, nodded in solidarity as she leaned against a table in the large conference room. For two days, Eve had set up shop in the room. Racks of designer dresses filled the room, and mirrors leaned against the gray walls.

“I suppose so, but you should consider something just as hot. What about this one?” She held up a black strapless gown, designed by Christian Dior, with a mermaid hem and a skirt comprised of elegant rosettes, a ribbon-like belt adorning the formfitting waist. Elle was drawn to the gown’s sexy sophistication and exquisite fabric. It would reach the floor, and yet be just as sultry and seductive as the tiny lace number since the sweetheart neckline would accentuate her chest.

“I’ll try it on.” This was her second appointment with the stylist, and Elle had inspected over a dozen dresses in that time. This was the first she was actually considering for the Golden Globes, which was fast approaching.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Eve grinned, a dimple forming in her cheek as she handed the dress to Elle. “Where is Whitney? She was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”