My stomach did a cold swoop at the letters covering my screen.
How to Turn a Player into a Stayer by Primrose Amberly
An inside look into how she came to steal the heart of New York’s notorious serial dater Grayson Pierce.
I read on, my heart settling somewhere in the middle of the earth as bile rose up my throat. The notes I’d taken, my unfinished words… they were all there and then some, formatted in a blog post already ready for submittal. Pictures of us were strategically placed throughout the story. Some of him before I met him set next to certain rules.
“Beautiful piece, isn’t it? I had Brinley look it over, then asked an intern to put it all together. I’m telling you, Prim…” She leaned her hip against my desk. “You’ve got another hit on your hands. Tailing your already popular piece, this one is going to soar.”
“These aren’t my words.” A fog settled over my eyes as I tore my gaze away from the screen. “This is… half what’s in that post isn’t even the truth! You took my notes and twisted them!”
“And you think the nosey people who love gossip will care whether it’s true or not? What you had wasn’t enough, Prim. So… I improvised.” She strung her fingers together, flexing them until they cracked. “It’s been awhile since these babies have been put into action.”
Anger did a dance with fear inside my stomach, both vying for stage time. I closed the article, wishing it would vanish. “Quinn, we agreed. I do the piece on Alan, and this gets trashed.”
Her hand came up to her chest. “We did?”
My head gave a slow, wary nod.
She stood, her arms crossed like armor against her chest. “What I remember is asking you to hand over your material, which then made it Virago material. You did read the paperwork when you signed on, didn’t you? Whatever is turned into me is company property. This is how I see fit to use it.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. “Please, Quinn. You can’t post this. It will wreck him. Wreck what we have.”
“Not if what you have is real. What better way to test that theory? This is a numbers game, Prim. If we want to contend with Stud, we have to keep them on their toes. Love comes second to your career. This is a cutthroat business. If you want to rise above, then you have to step on some toes.”
A hot sting of betrayal pressed like knives against the backs of my eyelids as my heart slammed fists against my ribcage. The air swimming through my lungs stilted and uneven. I could see it in her cold, calculating gaze—there was no getting around this. Love wasn’t a verb she understood, at least not anymore. It was a roadblock to her. A moat she needed to cross to get to her castle of success. And we were all her stepping stones.
And because of it, I would lose the first person I’d ever loved.
“Quinn…” The concern coating Poppy’s voice cut through the tumult pounding through my head. “This is low, even for you. This is Prim’s life we’re talking about. I know somewhere inside that stone-cold heart of yours that you care.”
Quinn’s arms crossed as she turned away from us, a war raging in her eyes. She took one look at me, then let out a deep, harried sigh. “Shit,” she muttered under her breath, her hands shifting to her hips. “Believe it or not, I do care, which is why this needs to happen, Prim. Despite what you may think, I am looking out for you. You think love will save you? What happens if it doesn’t work out and you don’t have a career to fall back on? You can’t put all your eggs in one basket. This article will catapult you even farther.” With an inhale, the small bit of sincerity that poked through her gaze disappeared. “Now, I suggest you get your apologies in order because it went live thirty minutes ago.”
With that, she walked away, muttering under her breath, leaving a heaping mess in my chest I had no strength to sort through.
“Prim.”
I stood, panic clawing at my ribs. A deep-seated murkiness swarming my stomach. My trembling hands fumbled for my phone, thoughts scrambling in the streets of my mind. I had to get a hold of him. Prayed I did before he read the article.
Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I pulled up his number and pressed call.
It went straight to voice mail.
My breath hitched in my throat, heart thundering so hard I pressed my palm to it.
Maybe he’d forgotten to charge it. Maybe he’d dropped it in water.
Or maybe he’s avoiding you.
“Prim, wait,” Poppy said, the sincerity in her voice only deepening the panic.
I could barely see in front of me as I headed for the bathroom. After I pushed the door open, a sob tore from my throat. I shoved open a stall and locked myself in. My head rested against the door as regret stained my cheeks. I should have known. But how could I have? I had been so naive. So stupid.
And Grayson would pay the price.
“Prim?” I heard Poppy call a second later. “Prim, it’s going to be okay. You just have to talk to him.”
“He’s never going to trust me, Poppy. I… I fucked up.” Another harrowing sob tore from my lips.
“Prim.” Her voice was just outside the stall now. “Let me in.”
I did, and she welcomed me into her arms. Her hand rubbed the back of my head as she let me cry through the fear. Whispered every so often that it would be okay.
“I love him, Poppy. I don’t… I can’t lose him. Not like this.”
When she pulled back, her eyes were stretched with shock. “Love?”
A weak nod tilted my head.
“Shit. And here you shocked me with dropping the F-bomb. Using the F-bomb and love in the same conversation? Damn, this is bad.”
“Exactly,” I sniveled.
She reached for the paper towels, then grabbed one and started dabbing beneath my eyes, thoughts stirring behind her violet gaze. “If he’s in love with you, then he’ll understand, Prim. Anyone who knows you knows your heart is made of gold. That isn’t going to change because Quinn is going through some sort of menopausal rage directed toward Harrison.” Her hands cupped the sides of my face as she searched my gaze. “Grayson knows her. He loves you. You have to trust that, okay?”
All I could do was hope she was right as I nodded with her.
“I have to go to him.”
She moved to the side.
“Cover for me,” I said before hurrying to my cubicle to gather my things.
Heading toward a fate that didn’t look so good.
Black Hole
I sat at the kitchen bar, facing the door, a half-finished glass of vodka clutched tightly in my hand. A black hole had opened up inside me, sucking in everything I thought I knew. A deafening sound pulsed in my ears.
There was no way she would have written that. Not Prim.
Yet, there her name was, attached to the article in bold lettering.
I’d turned my phone off shortly after learning the article was out there for the world to see. I didn’t want to take any calls. Didn’t want to hear Harrison’s I told you so. No, I wanted to gather my thoughts. Wait for her to come, because I knew she would, and I would hear her out.
I would… I would pray she had some sort of answer that remedied the darkness swirling inside me.
When the buzzer sounded at my door, I stood and set the glass on the counter. All my emotions locked tight.
She was at the front door, her eyes puffy. A swatch of red swarming the base of her throat as she chewed on her fingernails. Just the sight of her wore down the shield I’d crafted. Brought forth the need to pull her into my arms and kiss away the hurt leaking from her eyes.
Holding the button down, I rested my forehead against the screen.
“Grayson, I can explain.” Her words were full of desperation and dread as she peered up to the camera. “Please… just please let me explain.”
After buzzing her in, I left the door open. Returned to my seat at the bar, downing the rest of the glass, steadying the rage that beat against my chest.
She appeared in the doorway, an angel
who had lost her halo. Her lips quivered with secrets I was afraid to hear.
“Why?”
It was all I could manage. A lightless, enervated word.
Her hands fumbled in front of her. “I didn’t write it, Grayson. Not entirely. You have to believe me. I love you.”
My eyebrows dropped into a sharp angle. “Yet, your name is all over it.” I stood. Turned. Pressed my palms flat against the countertop. A dangerous concoction of anger and hurt brewed inside my cracked heart. “How long, Prim? How long have you known about this? How long have you been plotting—” I choked on the words, a seething, slithering feeling snaking up the base of my throat. With my eyes clenched, I finished, “How long have you been plotting to write it?”
There was a brief moment of silence so thick it nearly robbed the room of air. “Grayson, please,” she said through a stain of tears.
“Tell me.”
“The day I met you… at the bagel shop… you gave me your card.”
My heart was a hammer taken to my ribs. Air peeled from my lungs in hard gasps. This couldn’t be real. She’d never do this to me. She wasn’t like them. She was good.
“It was also my first day at Virago,” she continued, her words breaking in half. “What I never told you was Quinn didn’t want to hire me. She said I was too innocent to work there.” Her voice grew closer. “I was desperate, Grayson.”
Slowly, the pieces came together, forming a picture I didn’t want to see. “So you offered me.”
I was sinking, falling, slipping into a storm I didn’t think I could survive. Stepping into a nightmare I thought we had vanquished together.
“Please, Grayson. You have to understand. I didn’t know you then.” Her voice was clunky and tearstained. “I didn’t know that my heart would find a home in yours. That you’d surprise me in such a way that it shifted everything around me.”
I felt like I was standing in a funhouse surrounded by mirrors. Looking at distorted images of her. Not knowing which Prim was the real one.
I spun, the anger spilling out of my pores. “You didn’t know, because like everyone else, you believed the tabloids. Because like everyone else, you only wanted a piece of me. The piece that could further your career.”
The sob she released tore straight through my gut. “I was acting on borrowed time, Grayson. I never intended to write it. I told Quinn I wouldn’t. I only wanted a shot. A chance to truly make something of myself. I thought if I could just get my foot in the door, then maybe I could convince Quinn to put me on something else.”
My hands crushed through my hair. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me about the article in the first place?”
Her arms held her frail frame. “I didn’t… I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to lose you. Didn’t want you to think I was like everyone else. And why tell you about something I had no plan on writing? Why hurt you that way? I thought… I thought everything was resolved when I did the piece on Alan.” Her gaze dropped, lips curling in disgust. “I never thought Quinn would use me like that.”
The silence between us was swollen with betrayal. Peppered with her tears. My brain scoured through every moment we’d been through, pillaging for facts, searching for the lies. The chance encounters. The accidental text. Had it all been a ploy? A means to an end?
“Serendipity,” I said, emotion warring in my voice.
When her body flinched, I knew.
“Was it even real? All those encounters?”
“Most.” Her voice was so frail it broke off at the end.
“Are you—” I bent to find her eyes, shock stealing my senses. “Are you fucking serious, Prim?”
“I went to the aquarium knowing you’d be there.” The words shot out of her like a confession she’d been hanging onto for far too long. “But that was it, Grayson. I swear. Every other time was us. Fate. The reason we were brought together.”
She reached for me, her hand sliding over my arm. I stared at it, warring internally over the need to push her away and the need to pull her closer to me. With every truth, I felt her slipping farther from me. Farther into the black hole.
My hands plunged through my hair as I paced away from her, trying to grab a hold of the rage clashing behind my rib cage. It blurred my thoughts. I had to know. I had to peel it out of her. Every fact. Every lie. “And the bar with the douche? The accidental text?”
I watched her crumple in on herself, shame painted in red splotches along her breastbone. “Poppy said it would make you realize you liked me. I saw you with your friend, and I let my own doubts get the best of me.”
Fucking Poppy. “I already did like you, Prim. I made that very clear. It was you who kept pulling away.” I paused as the truth punched me square in the gut. “It was because of the guilt, wasn’t it? And you let someone like Poppy dictate you all because you didn’t trust me.”
Her liquid gaze shot to mine. “Because I was still getting to know you. And yes, I did listen to Poppy, but it was only because I was way out of my league when I met you. It wasn’t just you I didn’t trust. It was me, too. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. Good enough to be a journalist.”
I moved away from her. Dropped onto the couch, cupping my face in my hands.
“Is that all? Are there any other secrets you’ve kept?” Every inhale. Every breath I reached for was nothing but stale air, choking the light she once kept for me.
“No,” she said as she took the seat next to me. “It was never supposed to be published. It wasn’t even complete. Just scattered notes I’d jotted down. It was Quinn, Grayson. She filled in the rest.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. “And if I hadn’t handed my father’s story to you?”
Her head dipped as she choked on a sob. Her entire body trembled as she fought to speak. “I made a huge mistake, Grayson. I wanted the job so badly I would have all but begged, borrowed, or stolen to get it. To not have to go home with my head hung in shame.” Her hands twisted in front of her as she took in a stuttered breath. “Now I’ve just traded one shame for another.”
She couldn’t look at me. The shame she spoke of seemed to mold itself into her shoulders.
“Grayson, I’m so sorry. I tried… I tried to tell you. So many times. But this… the way you’re looking at me right now… is the exact reason I couldn’t. The hurt I’ve caused you… if I could take it all from you, I would.” Desperation clung to her tone. “Please forgive me. I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”
I pull in a deep breath, fighting the pain making a bed in my chest. “I love you, too, Prim, but you never said a word. Never trusted me enough to let me help you through it.” My heart was ripping in half, swallowed by doubt.
She reached for me, but I pulled away.
“I need time, Prim. I can’t even think straight right now.” I stood, the ripping sensation in my heart deepening. I needed to get away. Needed space to clear my head. To work through this shit storm that was us.
“Grayson, please!” she sobbed, her face a glossy mess of betrayal. Her eyes so wide she almost seemed innocent.
My heart was stone. Sealed off. Closed down for repair. “Harrison offered me an assignment,” I said, voice hoarse, butchered like my insides. “I’ll have to go out of town for a bit. I won’t be able to keep in contact.” I stood, moving away from her, her scent poking at my anger, trying to quell it. “I leave tomorrow.”
“For how long?”
“Just a few days. And when I get back, we’ll talk. Okay?”
Her hung head gave a small dip of acknowledgement. After a moment, she asked, “Is it over?”
I allowed myself to meet her gaze. “I don’t… I don’t think so. I just need… I need time, Prim.”
When she stood to leave, I had to clench my fists to keep from going after her. To keep from pulling her to me and kissing away the pain. Though I didn’t want her to go—didn’t want us to end—I knew it was for the best, because I didn’t trust myself with my emotions right now. I needed
to sort through it all.
It wasn’t until I heard the soft click of the door closing that I opened my eyes again.
She was gone.
Sad Girl
Everything I’d ever read about heartbreak couldn’t begin to touch the splitting, tearing, ripping feeling in my chest. It worked its way into my muscles. Settled into my bones, shackled by the shame I welcomed.
I couldn’t erase the black, bottomless expression in his eyes. It was there when I closed my eyes. Sneaking up on me in my dreams. An expression of pain I’d caused, which I deserved.
Because he was right—I was a fraud.
I thought I could waltz into Virago and make a name for myself under my terms. I thought I was strong enough to be a journalist. To dig for the truth, then write about it brazenly, not thinking of the cost. But I’d been so blindingly naive when it came to Grayson.
When it came to just about anything.
I told myself one lie after the other to get me through to the next day. Thinking there’d be some sort of solution waiting behind the curtain, only behind the curtain was a facade. A sham, just like the great and powerful Oz.
Poppy found me in the nest of my shame I’d made on my couch. Gathered me in her arms, holding me together as I fell apart. She curled up next to me as I wept for him. For us. For all those tiny moments we’d shared that were nothing more than rotting bones in a graveyard.
He said he needed time—that he still loved me—but even then, I wasn’t sure if he’d come back to me.
Not after my stupid deception.
I wanted to hope… God, I wanted to hope he would, but hope was a commodity I could no longer afford.
The next morning, I woke to the sun slashing through the darkness I’d sealed myself up in. Poppy moved around in the kitchen as she hummed to herself. My body ached all the way to my marrow. My head pulsed in thick waves at the base of my neck. I reached for my phone with little hope I’d see something from him.
I was right.
Virginal Headlines: Love Between The Headlines Page 23
