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what just happened. Rafe is probably already huddling with the family lawyers, trying to figure out the best way to put a positive spin on your little incident.”
    “You act like it’s headline news.”
    “It is! Didn’t you see the cameras flashing? That place was full of paparazzi.”
    “But they don’t know who I am.”
    “By tomorrow morning they will.” A flicker of discomfort touched her eyes, and he went after it, ruthlessly driving home his point. “You’re going to be tabloid headlines, Maggie. They’ll have your name, and they’ll be digging hard to find mine. The incident will be blown out of proportion and so will the theories they come up with for why it happened. Have you ever read those papers? You’re in the shark tank, lady, and they smell blood.”
    Worry lines creased her forehead. “I don’t have to talk to them.”
    “That’s your best move, but it won’t be enough.”
    She blinked, staring, and he saw real apprehension finally settle in. She licked her lips nervously. “Then how can I stop it?”
    “You can’t. Rafe de Luca’s coming after you, and there’s nothing you can do but try to survive it.”

Chapter
Two
     
    M aggie couldn’t believe this guy. He was actually glad he’d scared her. How mean could you get?
    But she suspected he was right about the press coverage. She remembered the camera flashes, making his scenario of headlines and wild speculation all too believable. Rafe wouldn’t take this well. She just didn’t know what he’d do about it.
    “I’m going home,” she announced. “If reporters are going to be calling all day tomorrow, at least I can get a good night’s sleep first.”
    Zoe opened a drawer and took out Maggie’s purse. Handing it over, she said, “Call me tomorrow.”
    “I will.”
    Cal pulled out his phone. “I’ll follow you home. Give me your number.”
    She managed not to laugh. “I don’t think so—to both of those statements.”
    He gave her a disgusted look. “I’m not hitting on you. I’m following you to make sure no eager reporters are tailing you. And if they do, I have to be able to call you so you can keep going and not lead them to your house. They’ll find it eventually, but you might as well make them work for it.”
    He made it sound like swarms of reporters would be after her, when everyone in their small, nosy town knew there were only three or four at most hanging around the cast of Trust Fund Brats . Probably just another attempt to scare her. “I think I’d know if someone were following me.”
    “Well, I don’t, so why don’t you humor me?”
    She met his stubborn stare with one of her own.
    “Makes sense to me,” Zoe said, turning traitor without hesitation.
    Too bad. Maggie didn’t give out her number to just anyone, and she certainly didn’t let strangers follow her home. Maybe other women fell for his let-me-protect-you routine, but for all she knew Cal Drummond was worse than Rafe De Luca. Rugged good looks and flat abs weren’t enough to make her abandon common sense.
    Heck, she didn’t even know if he was who he claimed to be.
    Thrusting out her hand, she said, “Show me some identification.”
    He said nothing, but his mouth twitched up on one side as he reached into his pocket and handed over his whole wallet.
    It fell open to credit cards and photos. The picture on top showed a pretty dark-haired woman in a formal gown. Low-cut, with plenty of cleavage. A girlfriend? The sister? She didn’t look anything like him.
    Quickly flipping the photos over, she checked the driver’s license. The same guy, but with shorter hair. She glanced up; the longer style worked better. Something worked, anyway, because if she overlooked the clenched jaw and hard stare, he wasn’t bad-looking. In fact, if he weren’t being such an annoying ass, she might . . .
    “Here.” She thrust it back.
    Tucking it away without comment, he held up his phone, thumb poised over the numbers, waiting. Zoe waited,