"I'll think of something," he says.

"Tell me to get breakfast for everyone."

"You're not my intern, though. You're Aidan's."

"He stole a bunch of your rights. You steal his intern. I can complain about what an arrogant...um...person you are." I catch myself before I break into casual swearing. The game's not up yet. I can still pretend to be the girl he wants for a little while longer.

He laughs. "And that's the perfect cover. I order you around. You act annoyed. People will think we get on each other's nerves. They won't know we're together now, if that's what you want? I'm also happy to tell the world, though."

My stomach gives a little flip-flop. He'd tell the world? If only that weren't a catastrophically bad idea... "No, let's keep this on the down low. Pretend to annoy each other and stuff."

"I like it." He glances at his phone. "I should sneak back to my room."

"You want your shirt?"

"No. That a joke? Although I wouldn't mind seeing you take it off, let's wait on that one." He winks at me and saunters over to the door. "I expect brunch arranged and served at ten sharp."

"Roger."

"But if you need help-"

I snort. "My stepmom's a chef. I was in craft services on your last movie set. I got brunch."

"Well, don't let me actually slave-drive you."

"It's cool."

"Sweet dreams," he whispers as he slips out my door.

I collapse back on my bed. Surely this contract affair doesn't have to be a disaster? There's no denying it could be, though. I wish I knew more about Aidan Greer. I tap out a text to Jason asking what he can find out about this particular director-slash-producer.

I GET some pastries from a bakery around the corner and arrange with the hotel for a big pot of coffee and another one of hot chocolate, which seems to be a popular breakfast drink here. Zach also tasks me with getting five printout hard copies of the contract, which Amy and the concierge help me with.

Aidan catches me in the hall with one of the concierge people and says with surprise, "You speak Portuguese too?"

I break off my instructions to get the contract printed out, switch gears in my head, and say, "Spanish. Lots of people here speak Spanish." Especially in the tourism industry. The concierge person points out that the margins of the printout will be smaller because of the different paper size. I a.s.sure her that it isn't a big deal.

Aidan catches on to what I'm doing and says, "Wait, why are you getting copies of the contract?"

Oh...right. He's my boss, and here I am, helping the band fight him. I am an idiot. "I don't know what I'm doing," I improvise. "Zach Wechsler told me to make copies of whatever this is and...I told him I don't work for him."

"No, but he's had his eye on you," says Aidan. "I'll talk to him."

This is going to be awkward.

Everyone convenes in Zach's room. Some seat themselves on his couch and others pull chairs over from the dining table. As the logistics worked out, the only people here are ones who will travel to Geneva on the private jet. Everyone on a commercial flight has already left and is likely on their plane already. I set the pastries down on the coffee table five minutes after the scheduled start of the meeting, just as Zach instructed. Copies of the contract have already been handed around.

"Stick around please," Zach orders me.

I don't have to feign the confusion and slight terror I feel as I take a seat.

He pretends not to notice and stands while everyone else sits. Ben waggles his eyebrows at me and Logan just looks lost.

Rick is also on his feet, his arms folded and a look of pure irritation clouding his features.

Aidan is relaxed, his feet stretched out and an easy smile on his face. "There a problem, Zach?" he asks.

"We need to review the contract." My boyfriend-of-eight-hours holds up the stapled sheets of paper. "I want final cut."

"No can do." Aidan's reply isn't exactly rude, but it isn't polite either.

"Why do we care about this?" asks Ben.

"Because you've already got footage of fights and people drunk," says Zach to Aidan. "This movie is supposed to be fun. Like a virtual concert for our fans with a little back stage time."

"I agree," says Aidan, "but I can't work if I feel second-guessed all the time. Just because I could make the movie a certain way doesn't mean I will. Long contract negotiations mess up the relationship here, and a contract that restricts what I can do is a ha.s.sle. I just want the freedom to do a good job for you guys without having to look over my shoulder all the time." The way he says it is perfectly convincing.

"I'm not comfortable with this," says Zach.

"Oh please," snaps Ben. "Seriously? You want to do this now? We signed. They're shooting us. End of story. I'm out of here."

He gets to his feet.

"Freeze," Zach orders him.

"Bye." Ben saunters across the room and towards the door. This is a problem because he's one of the signatories on the contract.

"Ben," I snap.

That stops him in his tracks. He mutters under his breath and stalks back to his seat.

"He's not worried," says Aidan with a sidelong look at me.

Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?

"He isn't all that concerned with our image," Zach points out. "He wouldn't care if the world saw every ugly moment."

"I'm right here," says Ben. "Don't say 'he.'"

"Zach, calm down." Aidan holds his hands out, palms up. "We already discussed this. I share your vision. We're making something fun here. Not something that's going to win me awards in doc.u.mentary filmmaking."

Zach's still on edge, though. "Our lawyer has instructed us to end the tour."

"Well, how do you think that would look?" asks Aidan.

"It's our one way out of the contract. Your rights are only to film this tour."

"End your tour and you leave me with only the footage I've got and not much incentive to work with you when it comes to how the final product looks. We've got to have a relationship of mutual respect here."

"So if we break the contract, you'll smear us?" says Zach. "Sounds like blackmail."

"Oh, quit with the drama." Aidan shrugs. "I've invested a lot already. I'm out a lot of money. All the equipment we're renting for future shows? Those deposits aren't refundable, and I need to make a living here. I suggest you keep going with your tour and give me more footage so we can do this right."

Zach frowns.

Rick steps forward. "I don't think this is conducive to a healthy working relationship, Zach."

I wonder if his motivation is sinister or just a product of laziness. If it weren't two a.m. in New Mexico, I'd have Jason on the phone. Even still, I'm tempted.

"Listen," says Aidan, "this is the same contract that Giggle Gals had with Roger Manson for their concert movie. That's where I got it, and that movie they made is an advertis.e.m.e.nt for the band from start to finish. You can call their manager to confirm that if you want. Also, consider this: what would be my motivation to smear you? If I ever want any further access to you guys, I've gotta stay on your side."

He sits forward. "Here's what I suggest we do next: you find some time to all sit and go over the media reaction to all the recent publicity. You guys talk about how you want your image to evolve. You got smeared by some of the media for that little zoo outing, for example, so let me show you that I know how to turn it around."

"Right," agrees Rick. "Aidan's a master of this. It's why I recommended him."

Logan sits where he is, fidgeting. He looks even younger than usual.

"Go for it," says Ben. "Cancel the tour. I don't care."

"Ben, come on." Zach makes a placating gesture.

"No, you come on. Why are we wasting our time with this? This is stupid."

"I'm trying to look out for our best interests."

"Your best interests," says Ben.

"The band's. Triple Cross's."

"If I-"

"Guys," I intervene. "Break it up. Let's focus here."

Zach shoots me a very convincing glare. Ben only smirks.

But there isn't much more to say. The problem is, Zach's got no cards in his hand. Even if he did cancel the tour, the damage has been done. Aidan's got plenty of blackmail material.

I watch Zach shut his eyes, and I feel for him. I want to get up, walk over to where he is, and hold him.

Instead, I clasp my hands in my lap.

He glances sidelong at me, but fortunately his gaze doesn't linger. "Fine," he says. "I want to trust you. That means when I ask you to stop filming, I want you to respect that."

"I'll consider it, but let me show you what I can do with media spin and you might not feel it's necessary."

"And I want to see all teaser clips before they go live."

"Yeah, that's fine." Aidan speaks as if this is a small issue, an easy request to grant.

"And I want to see the doc.u.mentary before it's released. I may not have a right to demand changes, but I'd like the opportunity to request them."

"Of course." Again, Aidan makes this sound like no big deal. "Listen, I'm sorry if I did anything to make you doubt my intentions here. Really."

"I suggest we cancel your interviews today in Geneva," says Rick. "Given we're already late. We should get a move on and give Aidan some time to film that footage he wants about the zoo trip."

Zach hesitates.

There really isn't anything else he can say other than yes. I wish his lawyer had armed him with something more substantial and less dramatic than a threat to end the tour. This is the first time he's ever had a meeting like this; talk about being thrown in at the deep end.

"Okay," he says. "Right. Let's do that." There's no hint of his usual hyper-confidence.

"Can we go now?" says Ben.

Zach doesn't answer, but everyone gets up and files out. "Wheels up in ninety minutes," Rick announces as he exits.

The one person who lingers is Aidan, and he comes right over to me. "Kyra," he says. "A word?"

AS SOON as we're out in the hallway, away from anyone who might overhear, Aidan turns to me and says, "Now, be honest with me. How much did you know about this little meeting beforehand?"

My mouth goes dry. He isn't accusing, but even while acting casual, he towers over me. I am his intern, and I was way out of line to advise Zach the way I did. I've got no idea what to say, so I settle for the truth. "Zach asked me what I knew about movie contracts," I say. "And I told him to discuss his with his lawyer. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause trouble."

"Ah." He accepts this. "I see. Well, listen, if you ever do have a problem with me or my methods, I trust you'll take it up with me first."

"I work for you," I say. "So yes, that's of course what I should do." Part of why I've kept my friendship with Zach under wraps is to appear professional, and I failed in a big way. I hunch my shoulders, certain Aidan can read these thoughts right from my mind.

"I know you're close to the band members socially," says Aidan. There's no judgment in his voice or expression. "That's part of why I hired you. They're comfortable around you, and I know you're very well connected in the entertainment industry."

"Um...no," I say. "My connections are my uncle, Triple Cross, and you."

"Which isn't doing too badly." He laughs. "Save for that third one. I just want to be clear with you. I treat my subjects right and take pride in that, so any concerns you have about my intentions, I would like to know about."

"Yes, I..." I turn my gaze to the textured, beige wall to gather my thoughts. Given the floor we're on, the hall's nice and wide and the carpet deep and luxurious. "Ever since my dad married a Vanderholt, I've seen how it can be with the media and it makes you paranoid. So when I see you shooting footage that would be worth a lot of money to the tabloids, I get nervous. Not that I think you'd actually sell it. It's an instinct, I guess." I hope I don't sound like I'm scrabbling, because that's certainly how it feels.

"Sure. Okay. Yeah, trust counts for a lot, doesn't it." He pats my shoulder.

I nod.

Aidan smiles and walks on past me down the hall. I'm rooted in one spot, certain he knows about my phone call to Jason, the night I spent with Zach, all of it. I have a divided sense of loyalty. On one hand I feel guilty, but on the other I don't see why I should. It would be unethical of me to help anyone exploit Triple Cross, wouldn't it?

I'm not as certain as I would have been ten minutes ago. What if I were working for a tabloid? Never mind that I wouldn't ever do that. What if I were working for a rival publicity firm? Where would my loyalty have to lie? It's not an ethical distinction I ever considered before.

I wander back to Zach's room, glance around to make sure no one sees me, and find that his door is still open a crack. I don't need to knock. I just walk in.

Zach hasn't moved from where he stood. His hands are on his hips and he hangs his head.

When I approach him, he lifts his gaze and looks at me. "I'm so bad at this."

"You did fine."