Cause For Scandal (Dynasties: The Elliotts #3)(28)
Author: Anna DePalo

She smiled. “Wasn’t it?”

“And lucky, too. But then luck’s always seemed to be on Zeke’s side. His first album was released just when the public seemed to have a hankering for romantic and sexy ballads.”

“I didn’t know it was considered lucky that Zeke met me,” she said, unable to keep from feeling flattered.

“He was going through a real dry spell as far as getting down songs for his next album. Sort of a writer’s block.” Marty nodded at the space over the mantel. “The photo was the one thing that could unblock him and get the creative juices flowing again.” He looked back at her. “Of course, having you in the flesh has been even better.”

Summer wondered uncomfortably if there was a double meaning in Marty’s last words, but he just looked at her placidly. Surely he couldn’t have meant “having her in the flesh” literally. Aloud, she said, “I didn’t realize I was helping Zeke’s creativity.”

“Didn’t you?” Marty returned, then nodded. “Yes, you’re more or less his muse for the time being.”

Something in Marty’s tone gave her pause.

Marty looked from the photograph to her again. “You know, at first I was worried. A deep entanglement wouldn’t be good for Zeke’s career. Millions of women see him as a sex symbol.”

She managed a nod of agreement. She wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading.

“But then,” Marty went on, “once Zeke explained his involvement with you was for, uh, artistic purposes, I realized there was nothing to worry about.”

“I see.” Summer felt a tightness growing and taking hold in the pit of her stomach.

Marty sighed. “Unfortunately, a celebrity of Zeke’s caliber has an image to maintain and a publicity machine that needs to be fed—with the right kind of publicity, of course.”

“Of course.” She was beginning to dislike Marty, but then again, was she just blaming the messenger? Working at an entertainment magazine, she, more than most people, knew the truth in Marty’s words about the nature of a celebrity’s existence.

Zeke was at the top of his game. He was young, talented and blessed with movie-star good looks. As a sex symbol, it wouldn’t be good for him to get deeply involved with someone or, heaven forbid, engaged or married at this point.

“You work for The Buzz, don’t you?” Marty said. “Of course, you understand how these things work. Just in the last couple of days, I had to plant a story linking Zeke to a supermodel and then issue a non-denial to a competing newspaper. Zeke’s got to stay in the public eye, and my job is to keep tongues wagging, but about the right type of stuff.”

Summer nodded. She really needed for this conversation to end. She felt sick. She should have known someone like Zeke wouldn’t have been attracted to someone like her unless there was an ulterior motive. They were…different.

How naive could she be? Very, she answered herself.

Aloud, she said, “Would you excuse me, Marty?” The comportment-school grad in her kicked in. Politeness under the most distressing situations. Especially in the most distressing situations. “I have a phone call to make.” A little white lie, sparingly used, could rescue anyone from the worst circumstances.

“Of course,” Marty said. “Enjoy the rest of your stay in L.A.”

“Thank you,” she managed, then turned and walked toward the door, her head held high and her back ramrod straight. A part of her couldn’t shake the feeling, however, that she was fleeing…and Marty knew it.

“You’re leaving?” Zeke asked in disbelief. “Why?”

He’d thought they’d agreed to fly back to New York City together on the redeye tomorrow night. He had a meeting to attend tomorrow morning with his talent agency in L.A., but then he’d be free to accompany her back to New York.

Instead, here she was packing and announcing she was leaving on an overnight flight tonight.

Summer tossed her bathing suit into her suitcase. “I decided I needed to get back. I have a job, remember? A job that I want to advance in.”

He was distracted by the bathing suit. He remembered taking it off her yesterday and what had happened afterward.

“I know you have a job,” Zeke said, forcing his gaze back to Summer, “but I thought we’d agreed to leave tomorrow night.”

“I changed my mind,” she said, continuing to pack.

“Damn it, Summer,” he said, his patience finally snapping as he grabbed the skirt that she was about to toss into her luggage. “Would you look at me? What is this really about?”

Probably because she didn’t have a choice, she stopped. After a moment, she said, “This weekend has been wonderful, but it’s also made me realize we’re two completely different people with two completely different lifestyles.”

He just looked at her. What had happened? He thought they’d been heading toward…something.

She grabbed the skirt back from him and tossed it into the suitcase. “I need to get some perspective, and for that, I think there needs to be some space between us.”

“Perspective? Perspective on what?” he asked, dumbfounded. A part of his mind understood what she was saying, but he just didn’t want to believe it.

Usually, he was the one having to let the woman down easy. He’d never liked doing it, and had never boasted about the number of times that he’d had to do so, but it was just a fact of life, given who he was. There would always be women who were ready to appear on the arm of a rock star, however briefly.

He watched as Summer took a deep breath. “Our lives are totally different, Zeke. You tour a lot, and I’m committed to climbing the ladder at EPH.”

“Are you?” he asked. “I’ve started to wonder, you know. You’re a great photographer, and you have a real passion for it.”

“Becoming a reporter at The Buzz is my goal,” she said emphatically. “It’s the reason I met you, remember?”

“I remember,” Zeke said, “but I’ve also realized that EPH was your grandfather’s dream. It doesn’t have to be for all his kids and grandkids.”

“I know, but it’s been my dream for forever.”

He wanted to say more, wanted to argue with her, but he decided it would be more productive to change tactics. “Look, even if EPH is what you want, that doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”