Chapter 4
MARILYN
Fifteen minutes later, with the lights in Heath’s apartment now on, Kayla Jackson’s gaze fries me with the fire of a thousand suns.
I nod at Jesse. “Excuse me,” I utter, my words a whisper. A second later, manicured fingers wrap around my arm, pulling me into the dimly lit corner holding the bar, and I stare unblinkingly into the face of my publicist, finding fury beaming from her blue eyes.
Her voice is a high-pitched snap.
“Seriously?” She asks, shoving a curtain of dark curls over her camisole-covered shoulder. “I thought you were kidnapped or dead or in a ditch…” She glances over my outfit. “I mean, you do look a little ditch-y actually.”
“Thanks. What a girl always wants to hear.”
“And then I find you here. I talked to Heath. No one knew you were here. Not eve
