“Vivien, can you confirm reports you eloped with Dillon and got married?”
“Vivien, did you get married because you’re expecting Dillon’s child?”
“Vivien, were you planning to leave Reeve for his brother before the accident happened?”
On and on it goes until it feels like my head will explode. Eventually, we make it to the security car, and I bury my head in my hands as soon as the door is shut behind us.
“Motherfucking bloodsucking assholes!” Ash fumes, circling her arm around me from behind. “Don’t let them get to you. I know it’s easier said than done, but we’ll put out a statement, and if they choose to believe that bullshit, they’re idiots.”
I lift my head, sighing. “I fucking jinxed myself earlier. How the hell did they find out?”
“Let’s call Dillon.” Ash is already dialing his number as Leon tries to pull out onto the road. Swarms of reporters and paparazzi surround our car, trapping us. “Mow them fucking down for all I care,” Ash says as Leon keeps his hand on the horn, slowly inching away from the curb.
“Call the cops if you need to,” I add. These assholes know they’re not allowed to do this.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” Ash says into the phone.
“Are you okay?” Dillon asks, worry evident in his tone.
“We’re surrounded, but Leon is doing his best to get us away,” I explain.
“Who reported it, and what’s been said?” Ash asks.
“I’m so sorry, Viv,” Dillon says. “One of the waitresses at the Italian restaurant gave an interview to ET Live. She must have been watching us the entire time, and she shared a video of us kissing and hugging. I’ve already talked to Marco, and she’s been fired. She was new and on a trial. He’s extremely upset and very apologetic.”
“That makes little difference now,” I say glumly. I rub a tense spot between my brows. “We need to call Edwin and your new publicist.”
“Already done. Both will be here by the time you arrive home, and I’ve spoken to your mum too. Your parents phoned me when they couldn’t reach you.”
My parents are pros at handling this stuff, and I’m sure Mom will have suggestions we can consider. They are still on location, but I can call her back when we’re discussing options if I need to. “Okay. We’ll see you at the house soon.”
“It’s going to be okay,” he says, and I wish I could believe him.
Ash ends the call as Leon finally makes it out onto the road, picking up speed. Removing my cell from my purse, I log on to the internet.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Ash asks. “It’s all going to be bullshit.”
“I need to know what I’m dealing with. Not just so we can respond appropriately but to understand what I need to tell Easton.” There are a couple of nasty little shits in his class who seem to love rubbing Easton’s nose in stuff that’s said online. Thankfully, Dillon made that last incident disappear, but I hate he had to write a check to do it.
I pull up ET Live, and we watch the report and video. It’s not too damning, but there is no doubting it’s us in the recording even if it is a little blurry. The comments, however, are another matter entirely. Reeve’s fans are out in full force, and I’m being called everything from a cheating slut to a murdering bitch.
Ash reads over my shoulder, and I can almost feel the anger rolling off her. “That is such horseshit,” she snaps. “What kind of low-life scumbag would accuse you of fixing the accident and killing Reeve on purpose just so you could have your wicked way with his brother? These people are sick and twisted.” She grabs the phone from me. “You’ve seen enough.”
I have, and I’m sick to my stomach the rest of the ride home.
Dillon is waiting for me outside the house when we pull up, and I fall apart the second he pulls me into his arms. “Shush, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay. I’m here, and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”
I cling to him as I cry, hating I’m back in this space again. It feels like all the progress I’ve made has just been undone. “They’re accusing me of never loving Reeve. Of tainting his memory. Some are even saying I made the accident happen on purpose,” I sob, looking up at him through clouded vision. “How could anyone accuse me of deliberately killing my husband and my daughter?” Pain punches me in the gut, and I cling to Dillon as the sounds of a chopper resound over our heads.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Dillon bristles with rage as we look up, spotting the news helicopter in the sky. “Let’s get inside. Ash, call the cops. This is a massive invasion of privacy and they can’t do that. I already reported a drone earlier.”
Drones are becoming a serious issue for celebrities. They are trying to introduce laws, but it’s a tricky subject.
“I’m already on it,” she says, handing me a tissue.
I dry my eyes and pull myself together. I can’t let Easton see me upset. Taking Dillon’s hand, we step inside the house after Ash. I fix my makeup in the mirror in the hall, making myself presentable, as Ash hurries off to meet with the publicists. Dillon confirms Easton is over at his house with Jamie. He felt it best to distract him while we figure out what to do.
Dillon slides his arm around my shoulders as we walk toward my office. I lean into him, siphoning some of his warmth and his support. He stops outside the door, turning me around in his arms. He kisses me softly. “I love you, and you love me. The three of us are a family now, and we haven’t done anything wrong. Not back then, and not now. Keep remembering that. You are a good person, Vivien, and those idiots deserve to rot in hell for the horrible things they are saying. But that’s on them. Not you.” He tilts my chin with one finger. “Hold your head high, Hollywood, and never forget you are a goddess among women.”
A small smile curls the corners of my lips. I fling my arms around him. “Thank you for reminding me of what’s important.”
We step into the room hand in hand, greeted by matching grim expressions.
Edwin rushes toward me, pulling me into a hug. “We’ll get on top of this, Vivien. Don’t worry.”
Ash introduces me to Farrah Lewis, the band’s new publicist. I’m glad Ash also mentioned she was openly gay because the tall thin redhead is absolutely stunning and I might have worried otherwise. Not about Dillon. I trust him completely, but I know the way some women throw themselves at rock stars. It’s no different than actors, in that regard. She shakes my hand. “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”
“Likewise.”
“Don’t worry. Between all of us, we’ll get a handle on this and put our own spin on it.”
We all know it’s not as easy as that, but I appreciate her attempts to reassure me. “Please take a seat,” I say, urging everyone to move over to the two couches as Charlotte steps into the room with a tray.
“Thank you, Charlotte.” This woman is worth her weight in gold.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” She leaves the room, discreetly closing the door.
I pour coffees for everyone as we settle down on the couches. Dillon leans back, with one leg crossed over the other, looking calm and unruffled. At least one of us is. He slides his arm behind my back. “How do you suggest we respond to this? Issue a statement or do an interview?”