Astrid complies with the mechanical enthusiasm of someone ordering take-out. “Gordon, oh God, G-Thorne! Give it to me, Daddy Thorne!”
I pause the video, making a mental note to tell Blaze later that explosive details like this need to be shared immediately.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Astrid lunges across the table like a feral cat, her talons extended. “Give me that phone!” she screeches. “Blaze, you backstabber, delete that video!”
She grabs Blaze’s phone, but it’snota video on his phone—it’s a YouTube video. She lets out a bloodcurdling scream. “OHMYGAAAAAAHHHHD!”
Her entire face crumples in horror.
Blaze grins wide. “Yeah,” he says, stretching his arms above his head. “I uploaded it to YouTube. #AstridScam is trending. Guess I do know how to fuck you.”
She bolts like her ass is on fire, screaming loud enough to shatter glass.
I turn to Gordon, who stands frozen. “You’re fired.” Then I swivel back to the screen of executives, who’ve just witnessed what amounts to a live reality TV meltdown. “All passwords are to be changed now. Gordon’s office is to be packed up and delivered to his home. Tell Legal to prepare for pushback if he threatens or violates his NDA.” I pause, drawing a deep breath. “I’ll be back in LA today for an emergency meeting. I expect ideas from everyone on a new plan moving forward.”
I end the call. Twenty stunned faces vanish as the screen goes black.
Gordon stares at me, jaw tight, hands clenched. “I did you a favor by getting rid of camera girl and her bleeding-heart agenda. Giving back is not how successful companies are run.”
“You don’t know until you try.”
“I’m your rock,” he counters, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’m the only one on your side.”
“Wrong,” I say, feeling lighter with each passing second. “You’re only onyourside. Now you better go chase after Astrid, because she’s your new big client… starmaker.”
I turn and walk the fuck out of the conference room, with Blaze bounding close behind. The door slams shut on Gordon’s sputtering protests.
***
Thelobbydoorsslideopen, and I barrel through like a man possessed. My heart thumps wildly, and I squeeze my phone as if I’m trying to wring the truth out of it. I hit Cam’s number again.
Straight to voicemail.
“I’m probably hanging off a cliff somewhere with Reece Dare, so if I’m still alive after I’M DONE FILMING, I’ll call you back!
I hear her voice—that sarcastic, warm,everything-I-fucking-needtone.
“Camila? Where are you? Call me. Please.”
The hotel lobby swirls with activity—happy tourists in flowery shirts clutching tropical drinks, bellhops pushing carts stacked with designer luggage, a newly arrived couple kissing passionately by the check-in desk.
“Bro, where we goin’?” Blaze skids to a stop beside me.
“Cam. I gotta find Cam. Let’s check my room.” I’m already moving, dodging guests and suitcases as if they’re obstacles in one of my stunt videos.
“Dude, what if she’s gone? Like, whoosh, vanished like that time we tried to tame those wild lizards and they—”
“Not helping, Blaze.”
An alert pings on his phone. “I found her!” His face scrunches up in confusion. “What’s LaHane,La Hiney?”
I snatch his phone, my eyes zeroing in on the YouTube notification.
“It’s Lahaina,” I correct, tapping on the new video I see posted on my channel:The Truth About Lahaina, Hawaii… and ME.
It starts playing and there she is—Cam, my Cam—and the sight of her hits like a harpoon to my heart. She’s filming from an airport restaurant, the CPK sign visible in the background. Dark circles shadow her eyes, which are red and swollen from crying. Her hair is piled into a scrunchie bun, and she’s wearing mySave the Rhinos… One Ride at a Timeshirt of rhinos banging. The one I wore when we made love for the first time, under a sky full of stars.
