He nods, distracted, and rubs tiredly at his whiskers. “Did we sign a nondisclosure and I forgot about it?”

I sit back in my seat. “Definitely not. And it’s not like we were walking around telling anyone we were filming a pilot. For all anyone knows, we were just…”

“On a weekend getaway?”

I feel my cheeks heat, even though I don’t really understand why. “Right. Antiquing. For my business.”

“I don’t even want to respond. Can we just not respond?”

“We can, but he’ll keep texting and calling. Do you mind if I fuck with him a bit instead?”

Cam brightens. “Not at all.”

I take back his phone where, as predicted, Lyle is still going.

LYLE: DON’T EVEN TRY TO DENY YOU TWO ARE FUCKING NOW.

Ugh. I wish.

SHELBY: Sorry, Lyle, this is Shelby. I forgot to charge my phone on account of all the crazy hot public sex Cameron and I were having while wearing our new “HomeMade” merch with your name featured prominently on the back. Won’t happen again.

I read it aloud to Cam before hitting Send and he snorts. “Serves him right. The fucker.” He turns off the hazards and pulls us back into traffic. Before we’re even on the highway, Lyle responds, blessedly without the caps.

LYLE: I hate you, guys. You’re both fired.

I snicker.

SHELBY: Oh no.

LYLE: The clip is all over the internet!

I give a mental shrug. Cam gives a physical one.

SHELBY: I fail to see the problem. Free publicity?

LYLE: A heads-up would’ve been nice. We have people who can mitigate that shit.

SHELBY: Like the heads-up you gave me about Ada Mae?

SHELBY: You aren’t the boss of me, Lyle Jessup. We didn’t bring cameras, and this wasn’t for the benefit of the show.

LYLE: So, you two are a thing now?

SHELBY: What we are is none of your business.

LYLE: Same old shit, Shelby.

SHELBY: I’m leaving now. It’s Sunday, Lyle.

I try to tuck Cameron’s phone screen down in the center console, but we’re stopped at the bridge toll, so he picks it up, glancing at the messages. I watch as his face darkens and wait him out.

“I expected better of him,” he confesses wryly. “Clearly this was about more than a leaked video.”

I huff out a sigh. “Lucky you. I have five more years of experience in suffering through his up-and-down, back-and-forth, manipulative bullshit.”

“Okay, but why is he so intent on hurting you?”

“I told you. He wasn’t first.”

“I thought you said he didn’t know about that.”

“Not that first. I mean…” I stare out the window, unseeing, to avoid his shrewd green eyes. “He wasn’t ever first with me. Cam,” I say softly. “Who did I call the moment he broke up with me?”

“Me.”