Olivia frowned at that. "What do you mean, 'Mrs. Kingston'?" Harold blinked, then scolded awkwardly, "Quit making things up!" Wilona froze. "You two aren't a couple?" Her face lit up. Perfect—if they weren't married, some things would be a lot easier to say. She wiped her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Harold yanked her up off the couch. "Get out of here." Wilona hooked his arm on the rebound. "Harold, wait—I haven't finished talking to you yet!" He frowned, clearly annoyed, and tried to pull his arm free. "Say it quick. I'm busy." Wilona clung to him like glue. "Let's be neighbors who look out for each other! Friends help each other out, right?" She pressed her body up against him while saying it, thinking, any man would melt at this. She'd spent years as the country's most popular actress—thin now after the disaster but still a knockout. How could he resist? Harold wrinkled his nose with disdain. "Why do you smell like sweaty gym socks?" Wilona blinked, offended. Sweaty gym socks? That's not sweat—it's a glow, damn it!! What kind of man was this? She was Wilona, for crying out loud! The kind of actress who could still play the knockout beauty in a TV show packed with gorgeous women. Forget clueless nerds—even an Oscar-winning heartthrob had once fallen for her. How could she possibly get turned down?Her face fell. This guy is broken, she decided. He's not a real man. Since her move-in flirtation had backfired, she stepped back, embarrassed and annoyed. "Maybe I just finished yoga and worked up a sweat. I keep fit, that's all ... " She quickly changed the subject. "Where did you move here from? I saw you wearing those tactical vests earlier—I thought you were police on a mission!" Harold didn't answer. Olivia didn't reply either. They didn't trust the people in this gated community enough to give out basic info. No way they'd tell her. Ghania had had enough of Wilona's chatter. She marched over and hauled her toward the door. "Alright, time to go!" "Hey!" Wilona protested and tried to pull back. But Ghania had kept up with morning dance classes for years; she was surprisingly strong and dragged the flimsy Wilona to the gate easily. Wilona knew that once they shoved her out now, it'd be hard to get back in. So, she shut her eyes and shamelessly yelled, loud enough for the whole room to hear, "Harold, I love you!" The place went dead silent. Wilona smiled smugly. This was her ace. What men can't resist is a gorgeous woman shooting her shot straight on. And with looks like hers? Rejection was basically off the table. Her looks were on another level—put her next to those wildly popular Insta girls and they'd fade on the spot. With a confession like that, even if they didn't start dating right away, there was no way he'd keep her at arm's length anymore.She fluttered her lashes and went on the offensive. "Harold, the moment I saw you I fell in love!" Ghania and Olivia exchanged exasperated looks. Wasn't she supposed to be paired with some famous actor? Why was she suddenly confessing here? Maybe Harold didn't know about the marks on her, but Ghania and Olivia did. From the look of things, she'd just been cozy with Frederick, then came here to freak out and confess? Who'd believe she didn't have some other agenda? Both women shot Wilona a look that said, "Yeah, right." The calmest person in the room was Harold. He paused, then stepped forward and said seriously, "Thanks for loving me, but I can't get involved ... " Wilona couldn't hide her joy. "Don't say that, Harold. Don't be like that—actually I—" He cut her off. "You're not right for me. We can't make this work. You should move on before you waste yourself." Wilona stood there stunned. What did he just say? Who's not good enough for whom? Before the disaster, a plain office nerd like him wouldn't have even come close to a megastar like her—fans lined up for her autograph.