"Sit, sit!" Kylie patted the empty chair next to her.

Gus sat. He moved with a lazy, predatory fluidity. He was sitting directly diagonally from Katherine. There was nowhere to look but at him.

"This is Beth, and Trixie," Kylie said, pointing around the table. "And that..." She pointed a manicured finger at Katherine. "That's Kat. She's our apartment hermit."

Katherine forced herself to look up. She forced a smile that felt like it was cracking her face. "Hi."

Gus looked at her. He didn't blink. He looked at her like he had never seen her before in his life.

"Hello," he said. The word was flat. Empty.

Katherine let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. He wasn't going to expose her. He was going to pretend they were strangers. It was a relief, but it also stung, a sharp, confusing pain in her chest.

A waiter appeared instantly. "Mr. Riddle. The usual?"

"Champagne," Gus said. "Krug."

Kylie squealed. "You spoil us, Gus." She leaned into him, her breast pressing against his arm.

Gus ignored her. He poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink, his eyes fixed on the tablecloth. He looked bored. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

The food arrived. The seafood tower was massive, obscene. Katherine picked at a shrimp, her stomach in knots.

"So, Gus," Kylie said, trying to draw his attention. "I heard rumors about the new film. A Thousand Fools? Everyone is talking about it."

"It's in development," Gus said shortly.

"Kat is an actress too," Kylie said, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Well, she's trying to be... again. She's been back at it for about a year since her... accident. But... you know."

Katherine froze. She gripped her fork so hard her knuckles turned white.

Gus looked up. He set his water glass down. He looked directly at Katherine.

"Is that so?" he asked. His voice was smooth, silky, and laced with poison. "Not talented enough?"

The table went quiet. Beth and Trixie exchanged awkward glances.

Katherine swallowed hard. "It's a tough industry. It takes time."

"Time," Gus repeated. He leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Or maybe you just haven't found the right... connection yet. Is my brother not opening enough doors for you?"

The word hung in the air. Connection.

Katherine felt the blood rush to her face. She knew exactly what he meant. He was referencing that night. He was calling her a user, right here, in front of everyone.

"I don't need anyone to open doors for me," Katherine said, her voice shaking.

Gus smirked. It was a cruel, ugly thing. "Everyone has a price, Kat. Maybe the market just isn't buying what you're selling anymore."

Kylie laughed, oblivious to the subtext. "Oh my god, Gus, you're so savage. But it's true, Kat needs to step up her game."

Katherine felt tears pricking her eyes. She stared at her plate, willing herself not to cry.

Gus watched her. He saw the way her chin trembled. He saw the way she bit her lip.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out, bringing it to his lips. He reached for his lighter.

Then, he stopped.

His hand hovered over the lighter. His eyes flicked to Katherine.

She hated smoke. She was allergic. Even the smell of it made her cough until her throat was raw.

Gus stared at the unlit cigarette. A muscle in his jaw jumped. He looked angry. Not at her, but at the cigarette.

With a sudden, violent motion, he tossed the unlit cigarette onto the table.

"Changed my mind," he muttered. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, looking agitated.

Katherine looked at the white stick on the tablecloth. He remembered. After four years, after all the cruelty, he remembered she couldn't handle smoke.

Why?

The question swirled in her head, dizzying and confusing, clashing with the cruelty of his words.

The champagne bottle was empty. Kylie was flushed and loud.

"This place is dying down," Kylie announced, clapping her hands. "We should go to Nightingale Plaza. I know the promoter."

Gus leaned back, spinning his gold lighter on the table. "I'm tired."

"Oh, come on, Gus!" Kylie whined. She grabbed his arm. "Don't be a grandpa. Besides..." She turned her gaze to Katherine, a wicked glint in her eyes. "Kat can sing for us. Did you know she sings? She's terrible at acting, but she has a voice."

Katherine's head snapped up. "Kylie, no."

"Why not?" Kylie laughed. "Gus hasn't heard you. Maybe he can put you in his movie if you impress him. Sing something, Kat. Right now."

"We are in a restaurant," Katherine hissed. "I am not a circus animal."

"Oh, don't be such a prude," Kylie sneered. "Just a few bars. Sing that song you're always humming in the shower."

The table fell silent. People at nearby tables were looking. Katherine felt like she was shrinking, disappearing. She felt naked.

"Sing," Kylie commanded.

Katherine looked at Gus. She pleaded with her eyes. Help me.

Gus looked at her. He saw the panic. He saw the humiliation.

His hand slammed down on the lighter.

BANG.

The sound was startlingly loud. Kylie jumped.

"I have no interest," Gus said, his voice cold and hard as steel, "in listening to an amateur performance."

Kylie blinked. "I was just-"

"It's pathetic," Gus said. He didn't look at Kylie. He looked straight at Katherine. "Begging for attention in a restaurant. Have some self-respect."

The words were a slap in the face. He had stopped Kylie, yes. But he had done it by crushing Katherine.

A wave of nausea rolled over Katherine. It started in her stomach and rose to her throat-acidic and hot. It was the same sickness she had felt that morning in the Hamptons.

She stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor.

"Excuse me," she choked out. "Restroom."

She grabbed her purse and ran. She didn't look back.

If she had, she would have seen Gus watching her go. She would have seen his hand clenched into a fist on the table, the knuckles white.

"She's so dramatic," Kylie huffed, reaching for her glass. "She has zero thick skin."

Gus turned his head slowly to look at Kylie. His eyes were dark, terrifying voids.

"Check," he barked at a passing waiter.

He threw a black American Express card onto the tray. He didn't wait for the bill.

"We're leaving," Gus said.

"But Nightingale..." Kylie started.

"Now," Gus said. The tone of his voice brooked no argument. It was the voice of a man hanging onto his control by a thread.

Katherine splashed cold water on her face. Her hands were shaking. In the mirror, her eyes were red-rimmed, her lipstick smudged.

Pull it together, Kat.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Kylie: We're out front. Hurry up.

Katherine typed back: Not feeling well. Going home.

She couldn't face him again. She couldn't sit in a car with him.

She slipped out the side door of the restaurant, bypassing the valet stand. The cool night air hit her face, but it didn't help the nausea.

She opened the Uber app. $85. Surge pricing.

She stared at the screen. That was her grocery budget for two weeks.

She closed the app and started walking toward Santa Monica Boulevard. The bus stop was three blocks away.

As she reached the corner, a line of cars pulled out of the Catch valet.

The black Escalade was second in line.

Katherine froze on the sidewalk.

Gus was in the front passenger seat this time. The window was down. He was looking out, scanning the street.

His eyes found her instantly.

She stood under the harsh light of a streetlamp, looking like a discarded doll.

Gus's hand moved to the door handle. The car slowed down. For a second, Katherine thought he was going to jump out.

"Gus, what are you looking at?" Kylie's voice drifted from the back seat.

Gus stiffened. He looked at Katherine one last time. His expression was unreadable-a mix of anger and something that looked painfully like longing.

Then he turned away. The car sped up, merging into the traffic.

Katherine watched it go.

She walked to the bus stop. The bench was sticky. A man in a torn coat was muttering to himself nearby.

The bus arrived, wheezing and rattling. Katherine climbed on, swiping her pass. The air inside smelled of stale sweat and disinfectant.

She sat in the back, resting her forehead against the cold glass.

Four years ago, she had been in a limousine with him. She had been a princess. Now she was here.

And he was still a king. A cruel, heartless king.

Thunder rumbled overhead. The sky opened up.

Rain.

Of course. It always rained when Gus Riddle broke her heart.