"You did this, didn't you?"

Layla nodded, not so much as flinching at the sight of an enraged Aster looming before her, oblivious to the usual Hollywood Boulevard circus bustling all around.

"Even though you promised you wouldn't, you went straight to Trena Moretti and spilled all my secrets." Aster seethed, her anger so palpable Tommy was sure it was just a matter of seconds before he'd be forced to break them apart, and he wasn't entirely sure he was up for the task. The heat sapped his energy, made him lethargic, and the smoke-choked air made it a struggle to breath. Maybe the Hulk would be willing to help?

"Not exactly." Layla remained completely unfazed, which only added to Aster's rage. "I didn't divulge any personal details. I never told her how I got the info."

To Tommy's ears, it seemed sincere enough to end the fight. Which was good, since he was eager to escape the blistering heat and head inside the dark, windowless, air-conditioned club. But judging by Aster's clenched jaw and hate-filled stare, it didn't work. But then, just when he was about to intervene, he watched in astonishment as Aster seemed to melt right before him.

"I'm not sure whether I should thank you or curse you." She uncrossed her arms as the beginnings of a smile brightened her face. Leaving Tommy to question if he'd maybe imagined the whole thing. Surely what he'd witnessed had been no less than a brawl in the making?

One thing was sure, he was no closer to understanding the female species, and sincerely doubted he ever would. Though being a dedicated pacifist, he was mostly relieved he'd been spared a potentially violent scene between two people he was beginning to care about.

Layla nodded, seeming to take Aster's change of heart in stride. The Teflon expression she wore on her face gave nothing away. Tommy had seen that look before. It was the mask she wore when she was determined to deflect whatever chaos surrounded her. It was a shame things had gotten so weird between them. But with the contest winding down, and with the cops focusing on Ryan Hawthorne, maybe she'd learn to forgive him for pointing La.r.s.en in her direction.

He looked at her with a hopeful expression, only to be met by a pair of rolling eyes and smirking lips that instantly reminded him exactly who he was dealing with. His chances of earning a pardon were slim. Though that wasn't to say he planned to give up. Even when she was hot, bothered, smelling of smoke, and misted with sweat he found her appealing in a way he couldn't shake.

"On the one hand"-Aster bent toward them, her voice lowered to a level that forced Tommy and Layla to lean in-"Ryan's involvement will undoubtedly result in more questions for me. I may even be considered an accessory for not admitting he left. But if Ryan really did harm Madison, then he deserves to be locked behind bars. But now that the mystery's solved, I have another, potentially worse one. Or at least worse for me." Her voice dropped even lower until it was just barely audible. "Remember that DVD I told you about?"

Tommy tensed, glancing between Aster and Layla, but before Aster could continue, the door swung open and Ira called them inside.

"Change of plans." His expression was as sharp as his tone, the opposite of what Tommy expected. Usually, Ira approached the Sunday meetings like a piece of performance art, all too happy to ramble and pontificate and waste their sweet time before finally getting to the point and firing the worst-performing contestant. But this time, after casting a wary gaze around the premises, scrutinizing the trash cans as though he expected to see someone leap out from behind them, he ushered them inside and motioned for them to sit at one of the tables. When he closed the door, it was like he'd shut out the world-leaving them at the mercy of Ira's agenda.

"I'm sure you've seen the headlines."

Ira's voice shook Tommy away from his thoughts and back to the present. There was no podium, no team of smokin'-hot nubile a.s.sistants, no formalities or hierarchy of any kind. The usual show was pared down to a casually dressed Ira, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, his muscular forearms resting on the scarred wood table. It was a side of Ira Tommy hadn't seen, and it left him uneasy.

"Night for Night is shut down." His jaw tensed, his fingers drummed the worn wooden tabletop. "It's swarming with cops-been designated a crime scene until further notice-and there's no telling how long it will last. It's not like the LAPD is in the mood to cooperate." His face darkened, his gaze grew distant, hooded, effectively shielding his thoughts. "That said-" He splayed his hands on the table, taking a moment to study them, before returning his focus to them. "I think it's only fair we end the compet.i.tion."

Beside him, Aster gasped, as Layla shrugged, not seeming to care either way, while Tommy felt the beginnings of dread. He needed the extra time to secure the top spot. Thanks to the drama surrounding Madison, he'd been knocked off his game. Though their combined numbers were better than ever, after all they'd been through, it was like a limp to the finish. May the least wounded win.

"What about Zion, Sydney, and Diego?" Aster asked, glancing around the club as though she might've somehow missed them.

"I told them not to bother," Ira said, without further explanation. "I'd originally planned for an impressive celebration to mark the end, but we'll save it for another time." Ira's regret seemed genuine, but then he loved to put on a show, which made it hard to determine what was real and what was not. "You've all managed to surpa.s.s my expectations. The lengths you've gone to were impressive. I knew you had it in you-that's why I hired you. And yet you never know what someone is truly capable of until they're put to the test. All three of you have been tested in ways you never could've foreseen, and you managed to stay focused, relentless, and willing to break a few rules along the way."

Tommy cringed beneath the lens of Ira's gaze. So he'd known about the black wristbands and did nothing to stop it? Pretty risky, considering the kind of trouble that could've caused. But then Ira was never one to shy away from a gamble, and neither was Tommy. Seems they had more in common than he'd originally thought.

"In some circles those are not considered estimable qualities," Ira continued. "But in my world-they're some of the traits I most admire." He drew his brows together, fingered his tiger's-eye bracelet. "I'm sure you're all very anxious to learn the name of the winner, so without further delay-Layla Harrison-"

He centered his gaze on hers, as Tommy looked between them. No way would he announce her the winner. She was lucky to have made it this far.

"You were completely outmatched by these two." Ira wagged a finger between Tommy and Aster. "You were out of your element, and I should've canned you week one. But after a rough start, you managed to find your flow, and eventually you did a decent job of holding your own."

Layla nodded, her expression ready for whatever Ira was dealing.

"That said, today was the day you were going to be cut."

She was quick to concede the defeat. "I figured as much." She slanted her gaze first toward Aster, then Tommy.

"Aster Amirpour-"

At the mention of Aster's name, Tommy sat up straighter, his focus switching between Aster and Ira. She looked haunted, vulnerable, and yet it only seemed to enhance her beauty. Ira, as usual, gave nothing away.

"Your numbers were consistently good, and you scored some of the top names on my list. You also displayed a willingness to do whatever necessary to secure the win. . . ."

Wait- The dread Tommy felt at the start of the meeting had reached a steady hum. Was Aster getting fired? Because that didn't sound like the kind of thing you say to someone before you release the blade and shout, "Off with her head!"

It couldn't end this way. Now more than ever he needed the win. He had nothing else lined up, and he certainly hadn't traveled all the way from Oklahoma to craft customized coffee drinks for Starbucks's demanding clientele. Ira owed this to him-if there was ever a time for nepotism, it was now. Problem was, Tommy had never quite gotten around to revealing their connection, so how could Ira possibly know he owed the reward to his one and only son?

Maybe it was time for Tommy to make a reveal of his own.

"-and that's why you are undisputedly the winner of the Unrivaled Nightlife Compet.i.tion."

Wait-who's the winner? Tommy looked from Ira to Aster, cursing himself for zoning out. But one look at Aster's beaming face was enough to confirm the worst.

Tommy shook his head, stared at the pockmarked table. After all the rules he'd broken . . . all the money he'd made for Ira . . . so he never managed to lure Ryan Hawthorne to the Vesper-so what? With the way things turned out, seemed like that should be celebrated, not mourned . . . and what the h.e.l.l was going on between Ira and Aster anyway? He should've seen it coming. Leave it to Ira to f.u.c.k him over, even though he clearly deserved the win. He'd earned it. And he'd be d.a.m.ned if Ira would take- "Tommy Phillips-"

Tommy heaved a deep exhale. Forced his gaze to meet Ira's. Tempted to respond with a sarcastic, Yes, Dad? But he decided against it.

"You remind me of me at your age."

Well, there's a very good reason for that. . . .

"You're tenacious, hungry, a bit untamed, willing to try nearly anything. And while you didn't win the compet.i.tion, I could really use someone like you on my team."

Tommy blinked, unsure what to say. Ira was tricky. Unless he spelled it out in clear, concise terms, there was no telling where he was leading.

"Which is why I'm offering you a job working for Unrivaled Nightlife. Actually, I'm extending the offer to both you and Layla. Think of it as a sort of consolation prize for a job well done."

Tommy peered at Layla-she looked as unsettled as he felt.

"Tommy, if you're interested, I'm offering you a chance to run that private room you approached me about. It's a sound idea. I'm willing to give it a try. And, Layla"-he turned toward her-"there's an opening in the Jewel marketing department. I think you'd do well there. And, Aster, of course, I invite you to stay on as a promoter. You'll receive a weekly cut of the heads you bring in, only this time it will be based on how much they spend. Oh, and in case you think I forgot . . ." He disappeared behind the bar, only to return with a new laptop for Layla, and for Tommy, the guitar he'd bought out from under him that fateful day at Farrington's. "Figured you'd put it to better use," he said, handing it over.

Tommy positioned the guitar in his arms and strummed a few strings. It needed tuning. Clearly Ira's lessons, if he'd ever really taken them, hadn't amounted to much. And yet, he was so overcome to finally have the twelve-string securely in his possession, he wasn't sure how to respond.

"And, Aster-I haven't forgotten you either." Ira slipped two fingers into his shirt pocket, retrieving a check he pa.s.sed on to Aster.

Tommy leaned closer, straining to see the amount. He counted a whole lot of zeros that made Aster gasp and slap a hand over her mouth. "Thank you," she mumbled. "OmiG.o.d, thank you!" She spoke behind trembling fingers.

"Oh, and, Layla, it's not contest related, but since you're here-" He fished his fingers back into his pocket and handed her a check. "Will you pa.s.s this on to your dad? Can't wait to see what he comes up with."

Layla gazed at the check with widened eyes and a conflicted look, as Ira rubbed his hands together and said, "What do you say we celebrate with champagne? Tommy, can you a.s.sist?"

Tommy hesitated. Surely Ira knew the Vesper didn't offer champagne. Theirs was a hard-drinking crowd.

Ira laughed-a seemingly genuine laugh, not practiced or forced, which made it all the more rare. "I managed to sneak a bottle out of Night for Night when the cops weren't looking. Seems the whole club is evidence."

Ira's casual mention of the crime struck Tommy as cra.s.s, especially after all they'd been through because of it. But then, Ira was hardly the sentimental type, and Tommy had better get used to it if he was going to continue to work for him.

Tommy reached onto the shelf, but there were no flutes, so beer mugs would have to suffice. Pinching the gla.s.ses between his fingers, he started to make for the tables, when Ira leaned toward him and said, "Just wanted you to know, you have nothing to worry about."

Tommy paused, not exactly following.

"They won't come after you. I've taken care of the evidence."

Tommy glanced at Layla and Aster, both of them lost in thought, before returning to Ira. "What evidence?"

"The security video showing you standing right outside Night for Night just seconds after Madison went in." Ira clutched the chilled bottle by the neck and held it between them. "It's handled. Luckily, I had enough time to delete that part before the cops seized it. Now they'll never know you were there."

"But I'm innocent!" Tommy's voice cracked. He sounded as frantic and perplexed as he felt. "I had nothing to do with it."

"Of course not." Ira shot him a look that wasn't at all convincing. "Look, I'm on your side. I think my actions prove that. Point is, now you won't have to defend yourself to anyone else."

So there it was-Ira being paternal and looking after his son without even realizing. Tommy was tempted to tell him and shock Ira as much as he'd just shocked Tommy. After all, Ira had destroyed evidence on his behalf. They were in this together.

"Ira," he started, but Ira was already heading back to the table, giving Tommy no choice but to follow.

"So-what do you say?" Ira's gaze moved among them. "Are you ready to officially join the Unrivaled Nightlife team?"

Layla was the first to accept, which struck Tommy as strange. He figured she'd tell him to stick it, or worse. He wondered if it had anything to do with the check.

Ira looked pointedly at Tommy, and, just like Layla, he reluctantly agreed. Glad he hadn't revealed himself. The day would come soon enough.

Aster was the last to respond. Tommy watched as her face played host to an array of emotions as she stared at the check in her hands. Maybe she was worried about being an accessory to Ryan's crime-maybe her reluctance had something to do with the DVD, and whatever it was she was about to reveal before Ira interrupted her and ushered them all inside-all Tommy knew for sure was she hesitated so long, Ira had to prod for the answer.

She curled the check until it fit snugly into her palm and folded her fingers around it. "Of course." She arranged her face into her head-shot grin. "Guess I'm a little fl.u.s.tered. I wasn't sure I'd win. Tommy was tough to beat." Her smile grew wider, a toothpaste commercial in the making. Though Tommy couldn't help but notice the way her gaze dimmed, her lips twitched, when her gaze met Ira's.

Had something happened between them? Before Tommy could ponder too long, the sudden pounding of fists slamming metal interrupted his thoughts.

"Open up-LAPD!" a voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Tommy froze, unsure what to do, but Ira remained as cool and composed as ever.

"What do you say we toss the drinks as I slowly make my way to the door?" He shot them each a look that had them racing behind the bar, pouring the expensive champagne down the drain, and shoving their gla.s.ses in the dishwasher, before rushing back to the table as though nothing had happened.

"What can I do for you?" Ira cracked the door.

Detective La.r.s.en squinted past Ira's shoulder. "We're looking for Aster Amirpour."

Tommy instinctively reached for Aster. She'd gone cold, shaky, and totally unresponsive at the shock of hearing her name.

"What's this about?" Ira stood his ground, did his best to delay. Buying Aster just enough time to reach into her purse, retrieve a package, and thrust it at Tommy.

"Whatever happens, do not let them see this." Her face looked pained; the scent of smoke clung to her skin. "Not until you hear from me." Her lips trembled. She had trouble p.r.o.nouncing the words, though her meaning was clear.

Tommy nodded, started to slip it under his T-shirt, then thought better of it and pa.s.sed it to Layla, who frantically shoved it deep in her bag as La.r.s.en fought to muscle inside.

"Don't mess with me, Redman," he barked. "If she's in there, it's in your best interest to turn her over. I don't care who you are; you try to keep her from us, we'll nail you for obstruction of justice."

Without another word, Ira swung the door wide, allowing a blast of heat and light to shoot into the room. His features sharp, gaze darkened, he seemed to almost fade into the shadows as a swarm of cops overtook Aster.

"What's this about?" Her eyes darted wildly from Ira to La.r.s.en. "Why are you handcuffing me? I haven't done anything!"

"Aster Amirpour-" La.r.s.en grinned, seeming to relish each and every word. "You are under arrest for the murder of Madison Brooks."

Aster's face drained of color as she bucked hard against the detective, an attempt to break free that was futile at best. "That's insane! I-"

"You have the right to remain silent," La.r.s.en continued. "Anything you say can and will be used against you-"

"On what grounds? I had nothing to do with this! What did that creep Ryan Hawthorne tell you?"

"Ryan has a solid alibi."

"But that's not possible! I was with him that night-only he left and never returned!"

"You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, the court will a.s.sign one for you-"

"I was with him! I left the club with Ryan Hawthorne!"

"Ryan Hawthorne left the club with friends and returned to his place with those same friends. The doorman and video footage confirm it. There's no record of you."

"But Ryan doesn't have a doorman!" Aster screamed, recoiling in fear when La.r.s.en thrust his face close to hers, his squinty eyes glinting with the antic.i.p.ation of what he was about to reveal.

"Witnesses at Night for Night saw you leaving, but not with Ryan Hawthorne. We've uncovered the clothes you wore that night, and they're covered with Madison's blood."

Layla gasped, as Tommy instinctively reached for her hand. The two of them watched Aster crumble before them. Her body collapsing, folding in on itself, looking so lost and defeated she bore absolutely no resemblance to the strong, s.e.xy, overconfident girl Tommy had known.

"That's impossible," she cried, her voice hoa.r.s.e, reduced to a whisper. "I had nothing to do with it!" She lifted her chin, gazed around frantically until she found Ira. "Please," she cried. "Tell them! Call my lawyer and get me out of this!"

Her face lifted with hope as she watched him approach, only to crash in despair when he reached around her and removed the prize-winning check from her fingers.

"For safekeeping," he said. His gaze impenetrable, he returned it to his pocket. The cops pushed Aster out the door and through the throng of tourists and paparazzi already gathered like vultures, leading her away under the glare of falling ash and flashing lights.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

This book has been so much fun to write, and it's all thanks to the following people: my lovely and amazing editors Katherine Tegen, Claudia Gabel, and Melissa Miller, who made this book possible; my wonderful agent, Bill Contardi, the perfect combination of humor and smarts; and, as always, my husband, Sandy, who showed me that all things are possible for those who believe.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

Photo by Nancy Villere.