Page 98 of Rebooting Conor Flynn

“I...”

“I redeem my image and bolster your standing at 92 West. Conor gets to play bad boy for a few weeks. And then you two can walk into the sunset hand-in-hand.” She dusted her own hands together as if she’d just solved the world’s problems.

“This is not a good time for Conor’s image to be taking a sharp turn toward hell, and I may get my man, but I’m going to lose my career.”

“It’ll be fine.” She sat in front of the mirror and brushed out her hair.

I closed my eyes as I reached for my phone, blood pounding in my ears. “It’ll be fine once I release these photos I have of you and Tomo.”

She slammed down the brush. “What?”

“Someone sent me pictures of you and Tomo making out.” My finger only trembled a bit when I accessed the photos on my phone. “You don’t exactly look like a woman upset that her lover is hooking up with someone else. In fact, these pics have a timestamp that pre-dates the one on the picture of me and Conor.”

“And you’re going to do what with those, Noelle?” Ashley picked up a red lipstick and met my eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t want to post them. I don’t want to expose you, but you have to stop promoting that other narrative.” I put my phone away. Ashley already knew about the pictures. She didn’t need to see them. “We can work this out, Ashley. We can play up my past relationship with Conor—we’re just close friends. You’ve been upset on stage because of your voice.”

The look she flashed me could melt the wiring on the set—and burn it all down. She recovered quickly and ran the lipstick along her plump bottom lip. “It’s too late for that. People know there’s something more than friendship between you and Con. It’s the perfect setup for me.”

“For you.”

“For you, too. My word is golden at Orlando’s PR firm. If Dina fires you...” she flipped back her hair “...I can get Orlando to hire you. You play ball with me—now, and I play ball with you later.”

Even if I believed her about the job with Orlando, and I didn’t, her plan to stay the course didn’t solve everything. “And Conor?”

“I told you already. He’s the Teflon boybander. He’ll be fine.”

I stamped my boot. “It’s not right.”

Ashley spun around and pushed up to her feet. “A lot about this business isn’t right. You and Conor handed me a solution with your heart eyes for each other—and I’m gonna use it.”

“Not if I post those pictures of you and Tomo.”

Her dark eyes glittered. “Go ahead. Do it.”

I opened my mouth, but not a sound came out.

Ashley smiled. “Do what’s right, Noelle. Whatever that is.”

She swept past me and out the door.

I put my hand against the wall to steady myself. Ashley Bennett just called my bluff.

I stayed in her dressing room for a long time, but she never returned. Then I walked to the mirror, studied myself for a second, touched up my own lipstick, and walked out.

The last chords of Conor’s encore reverberated from the stage and amid cheers and...boos. People were swallowing Ashley’s narrative, fueled by a few damning pictures of us.

What would they do with the pictures of her and Tomo?

I sighed. I’d never know.

Conor marched off the stage without a word or a glance for me, his jaw tight.

Great. I had two out of three artists hating me on my break-out tour. Was it too late to go into medicine?

Rhys broke away from his drum set to grab another water from Jade, who was waiting for him in the wings. When he saw me, he stumbled to a stop. “Don’t ask me to talk to him this time. He’s too pissed.”

“I know.” I waved my hand at the restless crowd waiting for Ashley. “I’m going to figure it out.”