Boom - Sabrina Stark Page 0,120

the plate of cookies. The check was already filled out, with my name right there in blue ink. The amount was for thirty thousand dollars.

If I felt capable of doing math, I might've pondered the fact that the amount included the full twenty-thousand-dollar bonus plus another ten thousand on top. It was more than I'd earn if I simply stayed on the project as planned.

As I zoomed in on the date of the check, something in my heart twisted. The check was dated ten full days ago.

Just how long had Brody been planning this?

And why, oh why, had he let me stand here and make a fool of myself?

I had no time to contemplate, because by the time I looked up again, Roy was already striding up the walkway, keeping his camera trained exactly where I didn't want it.

On me.

I knew I wasn't supposed to look at him – or the camera. I was supposed to pretend the camera wasn't there. But at the moment, I simply couldn’t.

I stared stupidly at the camera, even as Roy strode forward, letting his instrument of torture lead the way.

I was still staring when suddenly my view of the camera was blocked by Brody's back. He lunged toward Roy, saying, "Get that fucking thing out of her face."

Roy had no chance to respond before Brody ripped the camera from Roy's grip and hurled it onto the walkway, where it broke into several pieces.

I couldn’t see Roy's face, but I could see the veins in Brody's arms as he stood blocking me from Roy's path.

On a choked sob, I asked, "Why'd you do that?"

Brody turned to face me. "Because," he said, "you don't work here anymore."

Chapter 70

Arden

"So," Cami said, "are you gonna cash it or not?"

It had been five days since my ill-fated apology.

After the camera's destruction, Brody had hustled me back to the crew house and silently watched as I'd gathered up my things.

Unsurprisingly, I had much more than when I'd arrived – more work clothes, cute little work boots courtesy of Brody, my red hard hat, and safety glasses, too.

By the time I'd finished shoving everything that would fit into my duffle bag, and then crammed the rest of it into a white garbage bag of all things, a town car had already arrived to take me wherever I wanted to go.

"Wherever" turned out to be Cami's parent's house, where I was sharing Cami's old childhood bedroom.

I knew I couldn't stay here forever, but Cami swore up and down that she was glad for the company, and Cami's parents were being surprisingly nice about the whole thing.

I was still waiting on a decent job offer, but so far, none had materialized.

In the meantime, I was trying to repay the hospitality of Cami's parents by repainting their front porch – and fixing the loose boards on the back deck.

I wasn't quite a pro, but I'd learned a lot while helping to fix up my grandparent's place.

No. Not their place.

Brody's place.

It was his house, fair and square, and I needed to accept that.

As far as the check from Brody, I'd left it, along with the cookies, in my bedroom closet at the crew house while Brody had slipped briefly away, presumably to order the town car.

Or who knows, maybe he'd scheduled the car in advance, knowing that he was about to give me the old heave-ho.

Either way, it wasn't the last I'd seen of the check. It had arrived by overnight mail shortly after noon today. The envelope had contained nothing else. No note. No letter. No crushed cookies, either.

To Cami's question about whether I planned to cash the check, I replied, "I don't think so."

"But why not?" she said. "It's thirty thousand dollars. That's a fortune."

Not to Brody, it wasn't. But I saw what she meant. "I know. But when you think about it, I didn't really make it to the end."

"Of the show?" she said. "But that's Brody's fault, not yours."

"I dunno. Maybe it's both of our faults."

"So cash half of the check," she said. "Or how about this? Cash the whole thing, and send him a check for fifteen thousand."

I tried to laugh. "Oh sure. Then he can refuse to cash his, and we'll be starting the cycle all over again."

Cami frowned. "So he didn't say anything to you while you packed?"

She'd asked me same question several times already. I realized why. It really was hard to believe that not a single word had passed between us during the whole time I'd