Sitting down at the kitchen table, I forced myself to eat two pieces of toast and a large mug of coffee, wondering if Will would be in the car that picked me up. My breakfast churned in my stomach unpleasantly as whips of fear struck my body. What will he say? Will he be angry that I came?

Even though it was still hours from their arrival, I ran to the bathroom and brushed my teeth vigorously, painstakingly applying my makeup afterwards. The next few hours were spent on the couch, grimacing as I checked the time and running back to the bathroom to reapply makeup.

The chime of the doorbell sounded through the apartment and I dropped my lipstick, which clattered against the porcelain sink.

“Shit.”

I looked in the mirror briefly to check my appearance and wiped my sweaty palms on the hand towel before I grabbed my purse and dashed out of the bathroom. I hoped they would approve of my dress. My heels sank in the horrible carpet, making me stumble as I rushed to the front door.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

I yanked it open and was startled to see Dominic Pardini standing on my doorstep, dressed as though he was going to a cocktail party. His eyes were very much like William’s—intense and dark, but they lacked all of his warmth. They scanned me briefly before he gave me a small, approving nod. I tried to block his view of my apartment as much as I could.

“Ms. Porter, it’s wonderful to see you again.”

Wonderful? I opened my mouth slightly, but he gave a slight shake of his head.

“If you’d just follow me to the car.”

I stepped outside to the gleaming black Mercedes stopped on the curb and turned around to lock the door, and then I noticed the pair of men on either side of me with giant cameras.

“Whoa!”

“Do not be alarmed, they’re only the reporters I hired.”

I swung around to gawk at him. “You hired them?”

“Yes. I’ll explain everything in the car.”

They shoved the cameras in my face and took pictures. Mr. Pardini grabbed my arm and led me down the steps; then he opened the door and I lumbered inside awkwardly. Thankfully, the photographers didn’t follow us into the car.

“Go,” he said to the driver when he swept inside.

The sound from the outside world disappeared when Mr. Pardini shut the door of the car. I bit my lip and looked outside. Now that I was alone with him, I felt a bit awkward. I kept stealing glances at William’s father, intrigued by him.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Porter.” He watched me carefully.

“You’re welcome. And you can just call me, Natalie.”

He was so different from Will; he was formal, poised, and dignified, whereas Will was crass and loud. It was a startling contrast.

“Very well, Natalie.” The name rolled awkwardly off his tongue. “We are en route to William’s apartment. We’ll leave immediately to Redwood City and take photos of Will leaving flowers at the crash site, and then there will be photos with the families. The cameras will follow you inside their home.”

Oh my God. My stomach churned and I looked at his determined face. “Will agreed to do all this?” I really wasn’t sure it was the right move.

Mr. Pardini blinked at me. “No, of course not.”

I looked away from him and bit my lip hard, twisting my hands in my lap.

“What is it?” he said, sounding bored. “Just say it.”

I gave him a frightened look. “Um, Mr. Pardini, don’t you think that’ll look really staged?”

He let out a long sigh and rolled up his sleeve to glance at his watch. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Natalie. The shots might be staged, but William’s emotions will be real. Isn’t that the whole point?”

I couldn’t help but nod under his severe expression, but privately I knew that Will would hate the idea of cameras following him into their homes. He would never do it.

“Can I ask you why you are interested in my son?”

What do you mean, ‘why’? William’s father looked at me shrewdly; perhaps he wondered why his son would be interested in me. I searched myself for the answer. It wasn’t hard to find, but I felt weird gushing about him to his father.

“I like being with him. He’s exciting.” He makes my world spin.

“I just hope that you have a little more integrity than the rest of the world. I noticed that he never made you sign a NDA.”

“So?”

He actually pulled a sheaf of paper from inside his jacket and handed it to me. “NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT” was written at the top in bold letters. I actually laughed.

“Really?” I held it and looked at Mr. Pardini, hoping that he had a sense of humor.

“There is a lot at stake here. I can’t afford for you to write a tell-all book with the first publisher that approaches you. I will pay you to sign this.”

“No,” I said, handing it back to him. “I wouldn’t do that. I’m not my ex.”

His face reddened as he took the paper back and stared at it. “You realize that I’m your boss, right? I could have you removed from your position—I could blacklist you from any design agency in California.”

My heart squeezed painfully. Was he threatening to fire me? “Mr. Pardini, there’s no need for threats. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“By the time you do, it will be too late.”

Are all these rich people the same? “On my mother’s head, I won’t say a word to anyone.”

He merely shook his head and checked his watch again.

The rest of the car ride was awkward as hell and I couldn’t wait to get out of the car, even though the thought of showing up at Will’s apartment unannounced made me feel ill. I can’t believe he actually threatened me.

I opened the door as soon as the Mercedes stopped in front of the apartment, desperate to get away from Mr. Pardini and out of that suffocating car.

It was a pleasant, mild day for November and I didn’t feel cold until the wind roared down the Marina. Bodyguards were busy keeping the paparazzi at bay. As soon as they saw me, they screamed questions and waved their cameras in the air to get a shot. Shakily, I climbed the steps and wondered how angry Will would be with me. I knocked on the door as Mr. Pardini walked up the steps.

The door cracked open and Will stood in front of me, wearing an extremely shocked look.

When I saw him, I realized how much I missed him. He wore neatly pressed khakis and a blue button-up shirt. It was startling how much his appearance changed in a few days. The dark circles under his eyes made him look ten years older and his face looked thin, as if he hadn’t. I dug my nails into my palms as his eyes suddenly narrowed.