Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “No, John. You believed him when he said it wasn’t put together.”

The agent turned to John. “We inked the deal before the expiration. You’ll notice that you’re not directing, but let’s be honest, that was never going to happen. It’s going to be an all-star cast and enough money to make it a real picture. We’re waiting on the press announcement until a few other things fall into place.”

John couldn’t believe it. His brain couldn’t process what was happening. Nothing about this situation made sense. He needed something to make sense. He put out his hands, as if to grab on to some kind of sanity. “You told me—”

Anna scoffed, derision on her face.

“He begged me for an extension,” John explained, turning to Anna. Christ, he was so tired of this. “Sorry for believing people when they tell me something. What in the hell is wrong with you two?”

Anna’s shoulders straightened at that. She stared at Tom, ignoring John as if he weren’t there.

Tom continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “The studio is demanding rewrites, John. But I’m sure you can accommodate their notes.”

“I’m not working with you.”

“You’ll notice the contract says you are.”

“It’s over?” Anna asked haltingly. “Whatever this was, it’s over now?”

John’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice.

Tom walked to the door of the suite and paused. “Now it’s over, Anna. I told you you’d know. I’m surprised you slept with him. Isn’t he a little young for you?”

“If you don’t shut—”

A slammed door was the only response.

#

ANNA STARED AT THE shut door as if it would provide the answers she needed. As if it were a time machine that could take her back before Rome, before the bar, before her divorce, before her marriage, before it all started. Which path had been the wrong one? Never had she felt this used up. This town had finally gotten the best of her. She couldn’t believe it was going to end among the fake flowers and fake art in an anonymous hotel room, but she could admit when she’d lost.

Turning away from the door, she looked up at John. Maybe he was a good actor. He definitely sold the shock at Tom screwing her over. She should have felt sad. She should have felt angry that it had all been a cruel joke. Instead, she felt numb.

She had been happy during the hellish month in Rome. She had been happy to be behind the camera again and to be with John. What a fool she had been.

“You should go after him,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “If you’re on his good side, he’ll reward you.”