Okay, breathe, I tell myself as I pull up in the turn lane on Fourth Street. There’s a swarm of at least a dozen television satellite trucks out front of D’Angelo’s, clustered around the back entrance. Big men carrying big television cameras are sitting on the curb, smoking cigarettes, eating candy bars, talking to each other. Women with perfectly combed hair, tailored suits and microphones stand around in little groups, chatting and glancing toward the door. My heart sinks even further, which I didn’t realize was possible. Jesse could only hold the sharks off for so long. Now I no longer have even a temporary home. I merge back into traffic before anyone notices me.

A mile up the road I pull into a strip mall. There’s a pay phone outside a Starbucks.

I take a deep breath, pick up the receiver, drop in some coins and dial.

“Thank you for meeting me,” I say softly when Nick sits down on the bench beside me.

Nick, who seems to hate my guts. Nick, who is upset that I’m Star Beck. Nick, who preferred me as a waitress named Amanda Pepper.

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug.

“Thanks for answering on my third attempt too,” I say. I give him a half smile. “I was almost out of change.”

“I should have picked up sooner,” he says. “I would have saved you some quarters.”

We sit in silence, staring out toward Tampa Bay. Several tall office buildings stand behind us, and the water and the distant skyline of Tampa stretch out ahead. In a way, I feel like I’m in a little bubble of safety.

“I like it here,” I say finally. Joggers run by occasionally on the trail in front of us, but no one is looking at me, staring at my face, pointing and crying out that they’ve found the missing pop star.

“Me too,” Nick says. But he doesn’t offer any more.

“Nick,” I begin after a moment. “I know I owe you an apology. I know you feel like I lied to you. . . .”

“You did lie to me,” he interrupts pointedly.

“I know,” I say. I sigh. “But I told you the truth as soon as I could. I had to lie, or it would have been just like that media circus last night from day one.”

“I know,” Nick says after a pause. “And I don’t blame you.”

I look at him in surprise.

“You don’t?” I ask.

He shakes his head slowly and looks out at the bay.

“No,” he says. “I did at first. I felt pretty stupid for not recognizing you. I mean, I’ve spent a ton of time with you in the last week. And it’s not like I’ve never seen your picture before. But it’s not that, though. I’m not mad anymore that you lied about who you are. I mean, I understand.”