A short victory.

Arman

My victory was short-lived.

Very and absolutely short.

It lasted only those few seconds when unscripted horror climbed up Zoe’s features and her usually calm voice gave way to a shriek, but even then, my victory shrank when the only thought on my mind was how pretty she still looked even when horrified.

And it only got worse.

“That was quite a stunt you pulled there. You almost ruined the hard work everyone put into that scene, but then, Zoe’s undiluted reaction saved the day. I like it. The both of you make a very wonderful blend, but don’t go pushing her limits, Arman,” Eloise warned me. It was an obvious warning. She was telling me which side she stood on, and it wasn’t mine.

Everyone loved the scene, but it wasn’t my stunt that impressed them; it was her reaction.

I needed to calm down.

Luckily, my damp mood did not affect the rest of the scene. Experience had taught me to douse my true feelings when the camera began to record.

Zoe seemed cool except for the occasional killer gaze she spared for my eyes alone. Unlike the others, she did not appreciate the prank I pulled on her. Like I care.

Time flew, and we were done for the day. I changed into my casual clothes, ready to go home. Bridget had an issue with some newbie and she had to leave earlier, so I was on my own.

“Ughph!” Someone bumped into me. Judging by the smell of lilac that invaded my nose, I knew it could only be her. Zoe.

“Sorry, oh my, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes gave the most innocent look and I was surprised. For someone who had been staring at me like she couldn’t wait to kill me in private, it was easy to see that she had run into me by accident.

Zoe did not wait for a response before she dashed off with her shoe in hand.

I was almost at my car when the smell of lilacs freed my nose and was replaced by something absolutely disgusting. Cow dung. It was all over my shirt. My white shirt.

Zoe. Oh fuck. The shoes. It was the stupid shoes that had been dipped into cow dung. The bitch!

“C’mon, Arman. Zo says it wasn’t intentional. Look at the footage, she even apologized. Look at her face. C’mon!” Just like that, Eloise dismissed my complaint.

“My shirt is ruined!” I gritted. I wanted to strangle her.

But Zoe sat there, looking innocent—that pretty, childish look of an angel.

“Don’t worry, Arman. A new one will be delivered to your apartment in an hour. Same brand, same size,” M.J. assured me.

Everyone supported her.

“C’mon, Arman. Take it easy on the newbie.” Jude smacked me on the shoulder. I snorted. It was obvious that Jude was smitten with her; I noticed how he couldn’t take his eyes off Zoe. “Besides, even if it was intentional, don’t you think you deserve it?”

Just like that, the tables turned.

“Yes, you dipped her feet in cow dung.”

“You started it.”

“I think you deserve it.”

“Don’t complain, Arman.”

Someone had the guts to add, “I think you have finally met your match!”

My match? Zoe? This little baby actress? What the fuck did she know?

“Keep your fuckin' shirt,” I growled at M.J. before stalking out of the place.

Anger coursed through my veins like never before. I did not even feel this angry at Molly, even after I found out she had been sleeping with hotshots for big deals. It was like I always knew she wasn’t faithful to me; I just didn’t think she’d stoop so low as to sell her body for deals. It was more annoying to see that there were records—disgusting, even.

Zoe was another deal entirely. She was full of surprises. She was nothing I guessed she would be, everything I didn’t think she could be, and then she was more.

What I hated most was my attraction to her. I could not help but wonder what our kissing scenes would be like. What it would feel like to hold her in my arms, what she would taste like… I could not help but wonder. And despite how angry I was, I could not even hate her.

She ate up my mind, even while I knew that she might not even be sparing my name a thought.

“Long time no see, Mr. Anders,” the man said with a curt nod. Yes, it’s been a while since I came here. It’s been a while since I felt this mad… or unsettled.

“Prepare my usual while I go change,” I commanded. I couldn’t keep the edge off my tone. But then, I didn’t have to; this was the only place I could be real. No one cared about my looks, or my reputation, or my money. Everyone had their own baggage to deal with.

This was therapy.

It was not funny that Zoe had the power to push me here—something only my parents had the power to do.

“Here, Mr. Anders.”

I nodded, not bothering to mouth my appreciation while I put on the noise-cancellers.

I didn’t stop shooting until I had fixed six bullets into the wooden mummy.

“Is it because you’ve been away for too long? Your aim is off,” the voice was harsh.

The next four bullets I shot hit the same spot, clean and precisely on the forehead. “You were saying?” I angled my head at the man.

No retort came back.

Finally, I felt slightly calmer.

Zoe Adams. Brenda Cox. Two women. One woman.