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end up distracting her. Mateo didn’t share her ambition, and sweet as he was, Layla refused to be yet another female who let a cute boy keep her from achieving her dreams.
    She scanned the flyer again—a job like that could be just what she needed. The exposure to the Hollywood club scene would give her way better material, and who knew where it could lead?
    Mateo leaned past her shoulder and tugged the flyer from her hands. “Tell me you’re not interested in this.” He swung around to better see her, his brown eyes narrowed as Layla bit her lip in response, unwilling to admit it was the most exciting thing to happen all day (other than that kiss on the beach). “Babe, trust me, you don’t want to get involved in this.” His voice was stern in a way she rarely heard. “The club scene is sketchy at best. You remember what happened to Carlos.”
    She dropped her gaze to her sand-covered feet. She was overcome with shame at having forgotten about Mateo’s older brother, who’d OD’d right outside a club on Sunset Boulevard, not unlike River Phoenix collapsing in front of the Viper Room, except for the fact that nobody built a shrine in his honor. Aside from his immediate family, no one had even stopped to mourn. By the time Carlos died, he was so far gone the only friends he had left were drug dealers—none of whom bothered to go to his funeral. It was the greatest tragedy of Mateo’s life. As a kid, he’d totally idolized his brother.
    But what if this was the perfect way to honor Carlos—maybe even vindicate him?
    She reached for Mateo, her fingers grazing his arm before falling back to her side. “What happened to Carlos was the worst kind of tragedy, because it could’ve been avoided,” she said. “But maybe the best way to draw attention toCarlos and other kids like him is to expose what really goes on in that world. A gig like this would allow me to do that.”
    Mateo frowned. She was going to have to try harder than that.
    She stared at the flyer still clutched in his hands, knowing in her gut she was right. Mateo’s resistance only made her more determined. “I hate our celebrity-worshipping culture as much as you do. And I totally agree the whole club scene is one major sleaze fest. But wouldn’t you rather I do something to shine a light on all that? Doesn’t that beat sitting around and complaining?”
    While he didn’t necessarily agree, he wasn’t arguing either. A small victory she was happy to claim.
    â€œI have no illusions I’ll win the competition. Hell, I don’t even care about that. But if I can just get in on the game, I’ll have all the necessary ammo to reveal that world for the fraud that it is. If I can get just one kid to stop hero-worshipping those shallow, needy, undeserving assholes—if I can convince just one teen that the club scene is seedy, dangerous, and better avoided—then my job will be done.”
    Mateo gazed at the ocean, studying the horizon for a long while. Something about seeing him in profile, shadowed by the fading rays of the sun, softened her heart. He loved her. He only wanted what was best for her, including keeping her far from the world that had claimed hisbrother. But as much as she loved him, she would not let him win.
    He lingered on the postcard-perfect view of the sun dipping toward the ocean before turning to face her. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting mixed up in all that.” He clenched his fist, causing the flyer to crumple loudly. “That whole world’s a lie, and Ira has a well-earned reputation as the worst kind of scumbag who doesn’t give a shit about the kids who’ve made him rich. He only cares about himself. They dumped Carlos outside and let him die on the street so they wouldn’t have to call the ambulance and shut down the club for the night. Though you can bet they didn’t