Free Devoted 2 : Where the Ivy Grows by S. Quinn, J Lerman

shock.
    ‘Oh my god. Jen, have you read this? They’ve interviewed someone from my college.’
    ‘Where?’ Jen leans over my shoulder and reads the headline and the first paragraph. ‘ Marc’s Sexy Student . Sultry student, Sophia Rose, has bedded one of Hollywood’s hottest bachelors.’ She gives a little laugh, but then she frowns as she reads on. ‘Who’s Cecile?’
    ‘She’s on the same course as me,’ I say.’ I can’t believe she’s saying all this rubbish.’
    Under the headline, there’s a picture of me from my audition cards looking all doe eyed. I cringe. I guess they must have got that photo from my old university website. The shot of Marc and me, to my relief, is very grainy and fuzzy.
    We both look startled, but there’s no body language between us – nothing that would suggest we’re an item. For all anyone knows, Marc could be paying an innocent visit to a student’s home. That’s if Cecile hadn’t given an interview.
    I read the article again, my teeth gritted.
    ‘Sophia was after Marc from the moment she arrived at college,’ say s fellow student, Cecile Jefferson. ‘She didn’t care about the course. Only meeting the famous Marc Blackwell. She did everything she could to get his attention, hanging around after classes when everyone had left.’
    Thanks a lot, Cecile. You’ve given the gossip mill plenty to be getting on with.
    ‘I can’t believe she did that,’ I say. ‘It’s all so untrue.’
    Then I see the journalist who covered the story. Giles Getty. No wonder he was at the college gates this morning.
    ‘She’d better pray I never get a hold of her,’ says Jen, reading the paper over my shoulder. ‘Slandering my friend like that. Does she even know you? Have you ever met?’
    ‘A few times,’ I admit. ‘She fancies Marc. That’s all it is. She’s just jealous.’
    ‘Soph, you’ve got to toughen up. This isn’t campus gossip, it’s a national newspaper. She’s spreading bullshit about you to the whole of the UK.’
    I sigh. ‘But what can I do about it, Jen?’
    ‘Well, for a start, you can get a decent PR firm behind you.’
    ‘Really?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘Know any decent PRs?’
    We both laugh.
    ‘But seriously, Soph.’ Jen crosses her arms. ‘They shouldn’t have let the papers print this stuff. Marc needs to find someone better. I’m not saying use me. But someone better.’
    I think about that. ‘I’ll talk to Marc.’
    ‘When do I get to meet Prince Charming, anyway?’
    ‘Any minute now.’ I glance at the carriage clock on the mantel piece. It’s dwarfed by the giant vase of roses. ‘He said he’d be here at two.’
    As if on cue, the clock chimes 2pm, and the front door opens. I know it’s Marc without looking. Trust him to arrive exactly on time.

26

‘Sophia?’ he calls, and I sense an urgency in his voice.
    ‘In here,’ I reply.
    Marc strides into the living area and looks visibly relieved to see me. ‘I’m glad you got back safe.’
    He kisses me on the forehead.
    ‘I wasn’t in the wilds of Africa,’ I say, smiling. ‘I only went across the street.’
    He notices Jen and strides forward, his hand out. ‘You must be the best friend I’ve heard so much about. Pleased to meet you. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances.’
    ‘Yes,’ says Jen, shaking his hand. ‘I read the papers this morning. Not the best of starts for you two.’
    ‘It’s being dealt with.’
    Jen and I look at each other, and I can see her trying to work out whether to bash his PR team now or later.
    ‘Did your team have a damage limitation plan in place?’ Jen asks.
    ‘Yes,’ Marc replies. ‘But they didn’t go in strong enough. I had words with them this morning. They’ll go in stronger next time.’ He pours himself black coffee from a silver flask that came with the afternoon tea.
    Jen clears her throat. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little late to go in strong? Post publication? If it had been me, I’d have pinned the