“Yeah,” I frown, taking in everyone’s anxious stares. “What’s going on?”

“Haven’t you checked the news? I’ve been texting you.”

I fish my cell out of my pocket and press the Home button. Completely black. I must’ve forgotten to charge it after Ally and I took naked selfies yesterday. Shit, that’s not like me.

“Phone’s dead. Why? What’s up?”

Riku looks around, stalling nervously, as a few of the housewives trickle into the great room for this morning’s lesson. My gaze goes straight over his shoulder, past everything and everyone else, in anticipation of seeing Ally.

“You should really check the news, J.D.,” he says gravely. “Heidi is on her way down.”

“Heidi?” That gets my attention. I’ve worked with her for years, yet have only actually seen her less than a handful of times. This obviously isn’t a social visit.

“Yeah. Flight got in early this morning. She’ll be here any-”

“She’s already here,” a voice says from behind me. Heidi DuCane, the HBIC of the PR world, and renowned pit bull in a skirt. Heidi is probably the only person on earth that can make me shiver at her cold demeanor. The ice queen’s penchant for perfection and results is what has made her the most sought after—and highest paid—publicist in the business. And her sharp, Nordic features and statuesque frame have definitely made her the hottest.

I take in the tall, leggy blonde holding a sleek briefcase at her side, and nod at her approach. Heidi’s flawless face is screwed into a scowl that would make even the toughest alpha male wilt on sight. Riku shrinks back into the kitchen before she stops in front of me.

“Charge your fucking phone, Drake,” she says without preamble. Then she turns to make her way across the courtyard towards my house.

I look back at Diane, feeling a few inches shorter. “Dismiss the ladies. Tell them to review in their suites, then they’re free to enjoy the day.”

When I look up, she’s there, stealing the breath from my lungs and replacing it with what feels like helium. I feel like I’m floating when she’s around, so high that I can kiss the sun. She looks back at me, frozen in place, those cherry lips slightly parted as if she’s just gasped or moaned. It takes everything in me not to stride over to her and find out for myself.

“Standby. I’ll be in touch,” I mutter to Diane without looking at her. Then I turn away and step back into my cold, dark reality.

“THIS IS FUCKED, Drake. Seriously. How could you let this happen?”

Heidi paces the floor of my living room in 6-inch Louboutins, a smartphone in each of her hands. She brings one up to her ear and barks out an order, but I don’t hear it. My eyes and ears don’t move past the scenes playing out on the television screen. Variations of the same headline play over and over again as people try to speculate and dissect the bit of information they’ve been given on a silver platter.

Breaking News: Sex Doctor to the Stars Revealed!

Male Sexpert Transforms Socialites into Sexpots

$250k to sleep with your wife? You won’t believe who his celeb clients are!

A real life Dr. Feel Good? His patients unmasked.

Who is Justice Drake? Celebrity Consultant or Sexual Predator?

Who is Justice Drake?

Who isJustice Drake?

Even I can’t answer that.

“Justice. Justice!” I turn towards the sound of Heidi’s aggravated voice, but I don’t look at her. “Did you hear what I just said?”

“They don’t have anything. Just a name. All they have is a name,” I answer almost robotically, ignoring her question.

“Yeah, but who knows who leaked that? And it’s only a matter of time before they have more.”

I turn back to the TV just as the scene changes, displaying a new headline. “A Search for Justice.”Clever.

“Justice… I’ve got my hands full dealing with irate clients. You promised them full discretion, and now they’re scared this will get out.” She walks over to me and places a slender hand on my wrist. It’s the first time Heidi has ever touched me. Her skin is softer than I imagined, more delicate. Even with the hard exterior, Heidi is a woman through and through. I briefly wonder about her love life. Is she married? Dating? Gay or straight? Is someone making her toes curl regularly?

“Hey,” she coos with a pained smile. “You have to make a decision here. The curtain is closing. Time to send them home.”

“No.” I’m on my feet, fists balled at my sides.

“No? Justice, did you hear what I just said? We breached contract. You will lose everything if you don’t fix this shit right now. Send the women home, refund their money, and disappear before someone reveals your identity.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I can’t let her… I’m not ready to. I can’t send them back yet. I’m not done.”

“Jesus Christ! Listen to yourself!” she says throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I can’t represent you if you don’t listen to me. We still have time to fix this if we act now. It’s not like you’re actually fucking any of these women.”

My eyes pierce hers reflexively, wide with guilt. Or fear. Or maybe a mixture of both. She reads my expression like the back of a cereal box.

“Holy fuck, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t, Justice. Tell me right this fucking minute!”

“Heidi, it’s not like that…” I croak. But it doesn’t sound convincing even to my ears. Apparently, Heidi doesn’t buy it either.

“I can’t believe you. I knew it. I knewit. Since the last time we spoke. I just didn’t want to believe that you would ever be so careless. You of all people, with your rules and control or anonymity. You would never do something so stupid.”

“I can fix this.”

“You can’t do shit. Who is she, Justice? Which one is it? Maybe there’s still a way to salvage this mess. If I know who she is, we know how much to offer for her silence.”

I stay quiet. Partly because I won’t betray Ally like that, and partly because I’m too much of a coward to tell her that I don’t want to fix this. Now that the secret is out, I can breathe. I don’t have to hide who I am anymore. I don’t have to hide how I feel.

“Name, Justice. Now.”

I look up at Heidi, feeling like this is the beginning of the end. As much as I try to fight it, I know it’s over. I know that the sun has set on Ally and me.

“We can’t pay her off. She’s not for sale.”

Heidi raises a meticulously arched brow. “Everyone is for sale, Justice. You should know that better than anyone.”

“Well, she’s not. Not Ally.”

“Ally? As in Allison Elliot-Carr? TheAllison Elliot-Carr? For fuck’s sake, Justice, why did you have to diddle the richest bitch here? You’re right; there’s nothing you can offer her that she doesn’t already have probably stashed in her coin purse.”

“Like I said, it’s not like that. She wouldn’t take it anyway.”

“And how would you know? Are you two supposed to be in love or something? Do you think, even for one second, that she would leave her life of excess and luxury for one with you? She has Evan, Mr. Sexiest Man Alive according to People magazine. Even Oprah would hit that. No offense, Justice, but what would she want with you?”

I don’t answer, because I don’t have one. Heidi is right. Compared to Evan, I’m a pauper on paper. And that’s never really bothered me…until now.

The television screen flashes with the words “Breaking News”scrolling at the bottom. Heidi turns up the volume just as Giuliana Rancic begins her diatribe.

“The media is buzzing after it has been revealed that an unidentified man, known as Justice Drake, is actually the sex therapist to the starlets. And apparently, he has some high profile clients. It’s been confirmed that earlier reports placing Allison Elliot-Carr, wife of Evan Carr, at an exclusive spa were indeed false, and that she has been at an undisclosed location with this celeb sexpert. When we reached out to the Carr camp for questioning, they replied, “No Comment.” The question now is, did Evan Carr actually hire a man to sleep with his wife in order to make her a better lover? Stay tuned for more on this story…”