And a few months later, when I’d almost completely forgotten about the tape, a hacker somehow cracked Rhys’s files and data, including the private content intended for his eyes only, and leaked it out to the media. I fell apart, trying like hell to keep my head held high in spite of the shame and embarrassment I felt. My friends probably saw it. My family knew of it. And everyone in the country, if not the world, was a voyeur to a special moment that had been meant only for him. It took months for me to shake the feeling that everywhere I went, people were picturing me naked.

The irony, though, was that while the sex tape made me infamous, it made Rhys even more famous. He started to get bit parts in shows and movies while I became even more of a joke, a punch line, a cautionary tale. And even though it wasn’t his fault, I couldn’t help but start to resent the double standard. His star rose as mine began to flicker and fade. We drifted further and further apart until there was no reason to try to hold on any longer, and we broke up.

Standing up from his chair to kiss me on the cheek, he slipped his hand behind my neck and into the roots of my hair, sending sparks of electricity right down to my toes. If just looking at him took my breath away, then his touch completely robbed me of every oxygen molecule in my body.

“Hey, babe, you look fantastic.” He pulled out my chair, escorted me to it, and slid it firmly beneath me.

“Do I? I feel like I was just ambushed by a firing squad.”

I watched him circle the table to his seat, the crisp whiteness of his shirt sharp against the bright colors of the flowers and vibrant greenery around him.

“What do you mean? Brazen Brick? He’s harmless,” Rhys said as he unfurled a linen napkin onto his lap.

“Jesus, it’s been over a year now. How is our sex tape still front-page news?”

He held up his phone and showed me the same GIF I’d shown Nancy, me frantically trying to essentially tear off my Regency gown on live TV. “I have a feeling this might have a little something to do with it,” he answered with a shrug.

“Uggghhhh . . .” I hung my head in my hands.

He turned the phone back to himself and watched the GIF play through its loop a few more times, his face set in a look of approval. “It’s really not that bad. You actually looked incredible. Then again, you always do,” he offered as consolation, but the comment didn’t make me feel any better. “But, if you ask me, you were robbed. It’s not your fault the costume didn’t come off in time.”

“Unfortunately, you know that’s not how it works on live TV. You don’t get second chances. You get one shot, and I blew mine.”

He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “I still say you were robbed. You were the best damn dancer they had this season. Any season, for that matter.”

And this was the side of Rhys I loved. He was firmly in my corner. Always.

“So what’s next? What do you have lined up?”

Just as I was about to tell him about the show in France, our server came by to take our orders. I didn’t even bother opening the menu; Rhys was already ordering for us both.

“Two Cobb salads and two iced teas. For her salad, no eggs or avocado, and if you could put the dressing on the side. Oh, and we’ll take extra ice and lemon in both of the drinks.” He looked up at me to confirm. I nodded. It was exactly right.

He handed the server back the menus and leaned in to the table. “So, tell me, what big and exciting project is Plum Everly headed off to next?”

“I met with Nancy this morning. To be honest with you, the well’s starting to run a little dry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been on ten different reality series. I’ve done Karaoke Combat, where I sang off-key renditions of pop classics while dodging foam projectiles being shot from the audience. I survived a competitive baking show where the microwave ovens spontaneously burst into flames. I even managed to come in second place on Celebrity Zookeepers.”

“Wait, I don’t remember that one.”

My eyes grew wide. “It’s because we don’t talk about it. I don’t think I will ever go back to a zoo so long as I live.”

“I’m sure PETA will be glad to hear it,” he joked.

“And you want to know the worst part?”

“Worse than being target practice while belting out ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’?” He laughed. “Sure, lay it on me.”

“In not a single one of those shows was I actually able to be myself. I mean, not really. I’m always playing a character, a role, whatever version of Plum Everly best fit their narrative. Foam projectiles and flaming ovens aside, nothing about reality TV is real, least of all me.”

“What are you even talking about?” He reached for my hands and gave them a squeeze. “You are Plum Everly—the same girl who walked into my freshman chemistry lab and took my breath away. You were real then, and you’re real now. And it breaks my heart to think you don’t see that.”

“No, I’m not. I couldn’t be that girl even if I tried. I’ve been too many other versions of her to even remember what she liked, what she wanted, who she was.”

The server came by to deliver our teas. Rhys took a long sip and said, “Look at where you are. Why would you want to go backward? Life is about moving forward and embracing new and exciting opportunities.”

“That’s what I’m trying to say, Rhys. I’m not being offered new and exciting opportunities. Not anymore. I mean, there is this one thing filming in France that could maybe be—”

He cut me off. “Look, there are always ways to get yourself back into the spotlight, just ask Brazen Brick.” His eyebrows bounced suggestively as he thumbed his attention to the entrance where Brick had been staked out earlier.

I blinked hard. “What? What did you just say?”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “What I’m saying is that maybe it’s time for us to work on a sequel? You can even direct this one? We can spend a bit more time in editing . . .” His voice trailed off at the end of the sentence in consideration.

My heart plunged like a Marvel superhero in free fall. “So it wasn’t a hacker at all? You put it out there, didn’t you? You were the one who leaked the tape?” I could barely put the words together to form an actual question.

Rhys pushed his hand through his hair and sat up a little straighter. “I’m . . . I’m sorry, Plum. But really, I did it for you. For us. And let’s be honest, whether it was a hacker or it was me, it doesn’t change anything.”

His words hurt, but his cavalier attitude was a knife in the gut. “Doesn’t change anything? Rhys, it changes everything. You sold me out.” I tried to keep my voice even and low, always aware of the watchful eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit here? How do you not realize I was doing it as a way to break both of us out of the box we’d been put in? You’ve got to see now how it was the right move for both of our careers.”

Tears welled in the corners of my eyes, but I swiped at them before they could fall. “What career? I’m a joke.”

He pulled his hands down off the table and tucked them in his lap. “Look, we can still flip the script here. The wardrobe malfunction you had on Celebrity Ballroom, well that . . . that can serve as the coming attraction for our little movie. C’mon, you can be Daphne again. I’ll play the Duke. It’ll be perfect.”

I wanted to slap him. Punch him square in the throat. Or shove the tape so far up his ass, he’d be projecting the film out his eyeballs! He clearly had no remorse, and even worse, he was ready to double down. But instead of allowing my emotions to overtake me, I looked over at him . . . doleful and resigned. Who even was this man seated across from me? I didn’t recognize him at all. We were a million miles and a thousand versions of ourselves apart since our days in freshman chemistry, and there was no going back. Not from this. Though I’d said goodbye to Brian Braunpheiffer years ago, now I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was finally time to say goodbye to Rhys Braun for good.

“You can go to hell,” I spat, tossing my cloth napkin from my lap onto the table in one fluid motion as I stood.

Rhys jumped up and called after me, but there was no looking back. I hurried out of the Ivy, flipping my ticket to the valet and jumping into my car as soon as it was pulled around. I had barely shifted into drive when I began jabbing at buttons on my steering wheel to activate the familiar ding of my car’s automated Bluetooth system.

“Call Nancy on cell,” I shouted, pulling out onto North Robertson without signaling and stepping on the gas. “Nancy, I’m in. Go ahead and set up that meeting with Tributary.”

Chapter Five

I was grateful when Kate Wembley from Tributary agreed to take the hour-and-a-half drive from LA to Ojai to meet with me at one of my family’s most illustrious properties. A little over six years ago, my parents opened the first of what would be many EVERLY Bed-and-Breakfasts, restoring a crumbling ten-thousand-square-foot, fourteen-room Queen Anne Victorian home into a luxurious B and B complete with the eclectic modern touches they were famous for, while also carefully preserving the home’s original features. People came from far and wide to spend a weekend immersed in the Everly lifestyle, enjoying the farm-to-table food, wellness classes, and wine tastings.

I finished helping Mom set up the displays of Lemon’s new EVERLYbody Matcha Green Tea Powder Enemas and hurried over to the dining room to meet Kate, who was already at a table in the back corner. She waved me over to where she was sitting and sprang out of her seat to greet me as soon as I got closer.

Kate could have easily been mistaken for one of my sisters, and it seemed more than a few people in the dining room thought she was, snapping pics of us on their iPhones. Like the rest of the Everly girls, she was sun-glossed with long blonde hair and big doe eyes. She seemed to embrace the effortless California vibe, wearing a crisp white tee and loose army-green trousers, a denim jacket hanging around her narrow shoulders.

“I have so been looking forward to meeting you,” Kate gushed, settling back down into her chair.

A server came by to take our order. “I’ll take a green tea,” Kate said. “What about you? Same?”