Joey went to London in September for Fashion Week. I vividly remember her leaving on a Saturday night. She left me strict instructions to not overwater the cactus she keeps in her room. I took the job seriously. I sent her pictures every day just so she knew we were getting on fine without her. She never responded. I thought it was Joey being Joey, but now I realize there was more going on than just hair and makeup and haute couture.

Natasha goes into more detail.

They were at an afterparty at a club in Shoreditch. Levi had been buying drinks for Alice all night, and despite Joey’s warnings, Alice left with him. When Joey got back to the hotel room they were sharing, she found Levi on top of Alice, who wasn’t moving or responding to Joey’s screams.

Levi left, but not before his handler forced Joey to sign a nondisclosure agreement.

Hollywood’s best kept secret was built on threats and denial.

“Is Alice okay?” I ask.

“She wants to speak out, but they paid her a lot of money not to.”

Maybe it’s the champagne, but I can’t wrap my head around this. The firm I work for supports this? Bullying women into silence? Protecting a predator for financial gains? Ana would never. Not after her own daughter was exploited. She would be the first to throw Levi in jail.

“Does Asher know?”

“How can he not?’

The whole walk to the bar, I tell myself he doesn’t know. I down a cosmo in one gulp and tell myself again.

Asher doesn’t know.

Asher doesn’t know.

Asher doesn’t know.

“Livi.”

It’s a whisper. A quiet echo in my ear that I don’t want to hear. I pretend I don’t. It was said in passing. Meant for someone else. It’s a popular name. I would bet the thirty-seven dollars in my checking account that there’s at least three other Olivias here tonight. Maybe I’ll take an exit poll.

“Livi.” I feel his breath hot against my ear and then I feel his hand—inappropriately low on my back. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night in this little dress. I can’t believe Asher let you out of his sight. I wouldn’t have let you out of the house.”

“Asher’s not my keeper.”

“Thank God for that.”

That doesn’t stop me from wishing he was here. Because he always made me feel safe and protected. Even when he was grumpy and annoyed and complaining about the coffee that the barista made wrong for the seventh time, he was never threatening. Agitated. Unreasonable. Irritable. But not threatening.