Trashed by Jasinda Wilder

this are going to be in every magazine in the developed world. Especially since Adam came with you instead of Em.” She shakes her head. “I honestly don’t know what he was thinking. Nothing against you, it’s just—”
    My heart sinks, and my stomach flips. “What?”  
    “Well, it’s just that the rumor mill surrounding Adam is kind of rabid.” She smooths her dress over her hips and glances at me. “Any time he goes anywhere, all the rags make up these speculative stories about what he’s doing and where he’s going and who he’s with. When he and Em broke up, it was the talk of the whole community. It was ugly. Really, really ugly. And every appearance since then has been the subject of a million rumors. Bringing you, to this ? Last minute, no explanation? It’s going to start the mill all over again, and anyone connected to the media is going to be looking for you.”
    “Looking for me?”
    Rose nodded. “And they’ll find you, too. They’re relentless.”  
    I feel faint. “Awesome.” I steady myself with both hands on the counter. My breath is coming in short gasps. The panic attack I’ve been fending off all night is pounding in my throat and at my temples and in my lungs. “Good thing I’m not a super private person or anything. Jesus.”  
    A small, cool hand touches my back. “Breathe, sweetie. It’ll be fine. They’ll print whatever they want to print, and eventually they’ll lose interest. Just don’t do any interviews, ’kay?”
    “Why would I do an interview? About what?”  
    Rose laughs, and this one does sound condescending, but not cruelly so. “Oh, honey. You really have no idea, do you? They’ll want to know every detail about you and Adam. And they’ll offer you money, and book deals, and all sorts of things like that. If you want to remain a private person, don’t answer. Just tell everyone ‘no comment’ and live your life. Eventually someone will come along who actually wants their attention.”
    A deep voice beyond the door rumbles loudly. “Sorry, Mr. Trenton. Can’t let you in.”
    I hear Adam’s voice. “You gonna try and stop me, Zach?” Silence, and then the door opens, revealing Adam, with the bodyguard behind him. “Didn’t think so.” Adam crosses to me, I feel him beside me, feel his hand on my lower back.  
    “Hi, Adam.” Rose’s voice is neutral, careful. “The little boys room is next door, I think.”
    “What did you say to her, Rose?”
    “Just the truth.” She passes me and stops in front of Adam. “I’m not sure you did yourself or her any favors, bringing her here, Adam.”
    “Goddamn it, Rose—”
    “She’s really stunning, though. Even in an off-the-rack dress.”
    “Don’t be a bitch, Rose,” Adam growls, his voice low and threatening.
    “I’m not!”
    I stand up, push between them, hating how they’re talking about me as if I’m not here. “Adam, stop. It’s fine. She wasn’t being a bitch.” I let out a wavery breath. “Thanks for the advice, Rose. Adam, let’s just go, okay?”
    I sweep past Adam and Rose and out the door, past Zach the burly bodyguard…right into a gaggle of photographers waiting for me on the other side of the rope.  
    They’re less than four feet away from me now, ten of them, and their cameras come up and start clicking, flashing.  
    “What’s your name, honey? Can you tell us your name?” The questions come in a sudden burst, variations on a theme. They all want to know my name, and I’m frozen, staring at them, eyes wide, panicking.
    And then Adam is behind me, a hand on my waist, propelling me up the stairs, away from the cameras and the questions without so much as a word to any of them. The event is still going on, but now Gareth is at the podium talking about “a noble cause” or something. Adam guides me away from the dining room and into what seems like a small library, a few tables and plush couches and elegant chairs, bookshelves lining all four walls, and a small