During Gordon’s stay, life was a bit more comfortable for Lillian.
The area was still remote, with little to no entertainment. Outside, there were only long stretches of empty asphalt roads and vast, barren fields. But it also had the most breathtaking sunsets and sunrises.
With nothing better to do, Gordon would wait for Lillian to finish work. Then they’d grab some barbecue at a small grill spot below the inn.
If she got off early, he’d take her to the town square to watch drive-in movies.
Naturally, Lillian, being a filmmaker, viewed movies differently than Gordon, the casual audience member. Their differing opinions often led to arguments.
Gordon didn’t care about “technique” or “cinematography”; he just thought a poorly made movie was a poorly made movie.
Some people in the crew began to notice something between them and quietly asked Lillian, “Director Lillian, is Mr. Gordon your boyfriend?”
“No, we’re just friends,” she replied firmly.
But in this industry, the line between “friends” and something more was always blurred.
What Lillian hadn’t anticipated was ending up on the trending news because of Gordon.
She never imagined that even in this remote corner, paparazzi would manage to follow them.
The glaring headline was impossible to miss:
“Top Racer Gordon’s New Love Interest: Mystery Woman?”
The pictures were clear and detailed. In them, Lillian was wearing her plain black down jacket, her face fully visible.
There were shots of them eating at a roadside stall, leaving the inn together in the morning, and spending time at the construction site.
One photo showed her filming while Gordon stood nearby, smoking as he waited.
For anyone unaware that Gordon was there for work, the photos made him look like a boyfriend waiting for his partner to finish her day.
The crew, who had already found their dynamic suspicious, were now convinced something was going on.
Gordon, upon seeing the gossip, didn’t seem upset. But before he could say anything, Lillian rushed to apologize.
“It’s our fault for not maintaining confidentiality on set. I’m so sorry this dragged you into a scandal,” she said earnestly.
Gordon raised an eyebrow and teased, “Do I look ugly?”
“What?” Lillian blinked, confused.
“Do I look ugly?” he repeated.
She shook her head.
“And my body?”
“I haven’t noticed,” she replied, feeling awkward.
“Want to take a look?” he joked, taking a step closer.
Lillian stepped back, her discomfort clear. “We’ll need to handle this with a low-profile approach. I’ll make sure we issue an official statement. Don’t worry; this won’t hurt your reputation.”
As for her own reputation? It was already in tatters.
Helen’s fans had recognized her and were already spreading hateful comments, calling Gordon blind for getting involved with a “violent woman.”
She’d had enough bad luck and didn’t want to drag Gordon down with her.
It was probably the first time in years that he’d been insulted for having poor taste.
Gordon smirked. “There’s no need. I don’t have much of a reputation to protect anyway.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t address it?” Lillian hesitated. “No, we need to release a statement.”
With that, she turned and started contacting the crew’s social media manager.
Gordon hesitated, thinking to himself, Let them spread rumors about us. They’ve done it with Hogan; what’s the big deal if they add me to the list?
But just as the production team released a statement denying the rumors, another scandal exploded online, trending immediately.
An anonymous Twitter account claimed she was pregnant with Gordon’s child, accusing him of sleeping with her and then abandoning her for another woman. She added that she couldn’t even get in touch with him.
The PR team at the Smith Family Group hesitated, unsure whether they should respond. After all, their boss had just told them to ignore it.
Maybe we should just let it go, someone suggested. This might be another ploy to divert attention. People are already speculating about whether the company has some internal scandal.
Suddenly, the head of the PR department got a call from Gordon himself.
“What the hell are you doing over there?! Haven’t you seen that random woman accusing me of this nonsense?!”
“But… just now, you said to let it go.”
“That was then! Who the hell is this woman?! Don’t you think I’d know if I slept with someone?!” Gordon hung up after unleashing his fury, only to receive a message from home moments later.
“Lillian!”
Lillian was busy working with the legal team to send warning letters to the accounts spreading rumors. Just as she stepped out of her tent, Gordon appeared in front of her. His arms propped up against the tent frame as he leaned down, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
“I have to go handle something,” he said. “Don’t look at or believe anything online.”
Lillian blinked.
Gordon pulled up the hood of her down jacket, tightening the drawstrings until only her face peeked through, then patted her head.
“I’m off. Don’t miss me, okay?”
Lillian watched his figure disappear into the distance, unease creeping into her heart. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d caused him trouble.
For the next few days, Gordon was nowhere to be seen on set, though he did send messages to her phone from time to time.
“Go to the front desk and ask for my room key. Move the money tree from my place to your room before it dies on me-I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Hey, Lillian, keep an eye on that foreman. If he slacks off, let me know.”
“And don’t you dare play games without me? You’ll just end up dying on your own.”
Whenever Lillian had a moment to herself and checked her phone, she couldn’t help but smile at his messages.
Winter had set in suddenly, and the weather was freezing.
After a long day shooting in the suburbs, Lillian returned to the inn, her hands and feet numb from the cold. She wasn’t even sure if there would be hot water for a bath tonight.
“This weather’s unbearable,” she muttered.
By the time she got back, it was past midnight, and even the coffee shop downstairs had closed. She ordered a hot water bottle online, hoping it would arrive soon.
Dragging her exhausted body upstairs, she discovered her room’s air conditioner was only blowing cold air. With a sigh, she crawled into bed but eventually forced herself up to check if there was hot water in the bathroom.
That’s when her phone rang.
Her hands were still wet as she scrambled to answer.
On the other end, a familiar voice spoke two simple words:
“Come down.”
The blood in her veins froze, her heart pounding like a drum.
Before she could respond, the line went dead.
Lillian stiffened, staring at her reflection in the mirror, her face drained of all color.
She rushed to the window, flung it open, and looked down.