by Dani Rene
After our weekend away, I was whisked to LA to meet producers about another show that’s been on their radar, which they want to talk to me about it. Thankfully, it’s not a reality show. I can’t deal with another one of those. Even though Brazen Bachelor is doing well and ratings are high, it’s been a couple of weeks, and it’s taking a toll on Violet and me.
As much as I want to spend time with her, filming has been frustrating with the cameras following me night and day. Parties in clubs I would never attend have been put into my diary, and Blythe has been my escort for most of them.
Even though I do get the odd moment to sneak away and see my girl, it’s not the same as a normal relationship. Watching the sun go down, I grab my phone and hit dial on her number. LA is very different from New York, and I have to say, I miss the East Coast.
“Hey,” Violet answers on the second ring, and just hearing her voice calms me.
“Hi, love.” I stare out at the ocean, wishing she were here. “How was work?”
“Busy. We have a new issue going out today, and it’s been manic. But other than that, I’m missing you.” It’s the first time we’ve been apart since meeting. Since the first time, I saw her and knew I had to learn more about the woman with the colorful hair and name.
“I miss you too,” I tell her honestly. I haven’t missed anyone in a very long time, perhaps even ever. Violet has most certainly given me the chance she promised, and even now, when I’m not next to her, I feel like a different man. “I needed to hear your voice.”
“That’s sweet,” she acknowledges, then I hear a door clicking and a sigh.
“Are you home?”
“Yeah, I just got in. I walked home. Just needed time to think and breathe.” Her voice comes from far away, and I wonder if I’m on speaker.
“Think? About?”
“Everything,” she admits. “This… this thing between us, it’s made me evaluate the job. Your job. I mean, after the weekend away, I feel closer to you.” Her words ease the worry that had gripped me for a moment, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes, and when you’re back, it would be nice to sit down and have dinner, and just be together again.” I can tell she’s hiding something from the tone of her voice. When she’s anxious, she tends to murmur, and there’s a rasp to her words.
“I would be up for that, love. We can cook together if you’d like. But I will warn you, I’m not great,” I admit with a smile on my face, hoping she’ll be able to hear it in my tone.
“I’m not sure I’ll trust you in my kitchen,” Violet teases, and the tone of the conversation lightens. “When do you get back?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll text you the moment they confirm. Perhaps later tonight we can FaceTime. I’d like to see what you’re wearing in bed while I’m not there.”
“I think that can be arranged, Mr. King.” Her voice is seductive coming across the line, ensuring that the filthy images in my mind are racing wildly.
“Have some dinner, relax, and I’ll call you when I’m in bed, or text me when you’re in bed,” I dictate. Turning away from the window, I head down the hallway and grab a change of clothes.
“I will,” Violet promises. “I miss you.” Her whispered seductive tone doesn’t do anything to quell the ache I have for her.
“Later, gorgeous.” I hang up before she can taunt me further with that rasp and head for the bathroom. A quick shower, and then I’m getting something to eat before my call with Violet. Anticipation has my muscles tense, and the warm spray will hopefully help ease the tension.
If only for a while.
She’s doing things to me I never thought anyone would be able to do. And with every day that passes, I’m falling more and more for her. I wouldn’t call it love just yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if those words fell from my lips soon.
24
Violet
Colton’s been more than attentive since the weekend we spent together. Since he had to fly to Los Angeles a day later, we haven’t had much time to spend together.
I haven’t heard from my sister for a few days, and I still need to find a dress. Colton and I went shopping, and we managed to get his suit for the wedding, but I couldn’t decide what would be appropriate for me to wear to the event.
Also, now that Clarissa is back in the office, I’ve been inundated with catching her up with the work I had signed off while she was away. But I’m also excited to have some time off soon. I’m anxious to hear how her trip was, but it’s been a no-go with nonstop deadlines every day.
We’ve both been in various meetings, and I haven’t had a moment alone with her. My focus has been on making sure she can see I’ve handled the office with professionalism, and I was able to sign off all articles in the new edition, including my own interview with Colton and Blythe.
But now, as I stand at the boutique, trying on the third dress, I’m taken back to the night of my prom. The night about which I confessed to Colton in bed after he’d given me two of the most incredible orgasms I’ve ever had.
I twist and turn, taking in my reflection, and decide black is the way to go. I’ve heard its bad luck to wear it to a wedding, but for my sister, it’s applicable. I have a feeling she’d possibly wear black if she had her way. But Mom would never allow her favorite daughter to do that.
I quickly change back into my work clothes and pay for the dress and shoes before heading back to the office. The moment I step foot through the door, my phone rings with Colton’s ringtone.
“Hello, Mr. B,” I tease, earning me a goodhearted laugh from the man who’s stolen my heart. I haven’t told him that yet, but when he gets back, I have a special dinner planned.
“Violet, love,” he greets. “I have my flight booked; I should be landing at about seven.” The noise on the other end of the line is jarring, but his voice cuts through the ruckus. “I’m going to have to go, but I’ll see you tonight.”
“I can’t wait,” I reply, but the line is dead before I can get the words out. My heart sinks at the thought of him with another girl. I told him to take the contract, so I can’t blame him, but even with all his reassurances, my negative mindset takes hold of me and holds me hostage.
I get to my desk and set down my shopping when Clarissa calls to me from her office. Before I make my way in, I grab my notepad and pen and step over the threshold to find Blythe sitting in one of two wingback chairs that face my boss’s desk.
“Blythe, hi.” I smile over at Colton’s agent, but she only offers a slight nod in greeting. Something is wrong. My stomach flip-flops wildly, and I wonder what’s happened because both women look like they’ve swallowed a lemon.
“We have a problem,” Clarissa announces. “Sit.” She doesn’t gesture to the chair, but I take it anyway with worry creasing my brows. “Colton is in LA, he’s on his way back, and we needed to explain the situation to you before you see him.”
“Okay,” I drag the word out, but something tells me my worst fear has come to pass. They look at each other, anxiety painted across both women’s expressions. “I’m a big girl, just tell me.”
“The producers have made sure to build this brand from the ground up. As you know, Colton is the face, the man of the line,” Blythe intones coolly, but there’s a hint of something I can’t quite put my finger on.
“Yes, I know.”
I don’t feel comfortable. I’m out of my element, and knowing that something is going on that Colton didn’t tell me about doesn’t help calm me. Not right now.
“They’ve found him a girlfriend,” Blythe utters the words that have my stomach bottoming out, falling like a lead weight at my feet. Every fear, every concern I had, has come to life, and I don’t even know what she looks like.
“And… I mean, I’m with him. We’ve made it official.”
“Not publicly.”
“But what if we told them I’m—”
This time, Blythe looks at me
with her cold stare, and I know I’m stupid for even suggesting I be the one they use for the show. I’m not made for television.
“I’m not the bitch in this scenario, but I have to be honest, Violet,” Blythe divulges, shifting in her chair to face me fully. “We need this business. They’re both coming in for an interview, and you’ll need to be the one to talk to them.”
“That’s why you told me.” The moment I realize it, my heart sinks along with every bit of confidence I had riding on my relationship with Colton. We didn’t talk about what we were. We didn’t make it official, but the time I spent with him meant something to me, and I thought it meant something to him.
“Fine.” I shrug, trying not to show the pain in my eyes. I blink back the tears and focus on my notepad. “Can I be excused now?” I’m not looking at my boss, but I can feel her stare on me.
“Yes, of course.” At the sound of her voice, I shoot up and race out of the office, making a beeline for the bathroom. Once I’m locked in a stall, I sit my butt on the toilet seat and cry. All the years of agony I’ve lived with locked behind my smiles tumble free, and I can’t stop the emotion from pouring down my face.
I no longer care about my makeup. I don’t have an inkling toward appearances. My chest is tight as sobs wrack through me, attacking me with violent shots right to my heart.
My hands tremble as I swipe at my cheeks, but the more I try to clear my face of the salty emotion, more fall from my eyes. I’ve been hurt before, I’ve been broken, but that was when I was a teenager. Surely, I’m stronger. I’m all grown up, an adult.
Aren’t grownups meant to be less susceptible to pain and heartache?
I don’t know why I’m crying for a man who didn’t even message me to let me know what happened. But I allow myself to expel every bit of pain that attacks me.
I don’t know how long I sit in the bathroom stall, but by the time I step out and wash my face, all my tears have run dry, and anger has taken the place of sadness.
25
Colton
Guilt is a heavy burden to bear. It’s a heavy emotion to carry, and I have it all in my chest. As we touch down at JFK, I’m anxious because I need to talk to Violet. After the meeting I just got out of, she’s going to need to hear this from me before anyone else.
I turn on my phone as we head through the airport with Brianna beside me. She’s pretty, a nice girl, but she’s not who I want. And I need to make sure Violet knows that before the press get a hold of the photo stills from the producer. I’ve learned firsthand how this bullshit can spiral.
Perhaps I should have told her on the call, but I couldn’t, and she has to understand I was being dragged from one corner to the next. But something tells me Violet will be harder to convince than anyone I’ve ever come across. She’s broken, I see it in her eyes, but she’s also strong, and I pray that strength shines through, and she sees my honesty.
“See you tomorrow, Bachelor,” Brianna tells me the moment we reach our town cars.
“Yeah, see you,” I farewell, but before she walks away, she leans in to kiss me on the lips as the flashes go off, blinding me. But they don’t see me push her away, and they certainly don’t capture my grunt of, “What the fuck was that, Bri?”
“I was just giving them what they came for,” she retorts with a grin before swaying her hips as she walks to her car. I slide into the backseat, needing to hide away.
I unlock my screen, finding twenty messages from Blythe warning me not to contact Violet, but I ignore them and tap call on her number anyway. It rings, and rings, and rings. Finally, I’m sent to voicemail, so I end the call and try again.
In my gut, I know something is wrong, but in my mind, I convince myself she’s perhaps in the shower, or maybe she’s collecting her dinner and forgot her phone at home. But when I’m sent to voicemail once more, I know in my heart she knows.
She’s heard the news.
And it wasn’t from me. It was from my agent who would’ve delivered my death notice with a smile on her face. I tell the driver where to take me—Violet’s apartment.
I have to fix this. One way or another.
By the time we reach the apartment block, I’ve tried calling Violet ten times. Each time, it’s gone straight to voicemail. I’m out of the car before it parks, shoving the door open, racing by the doorman who recognizes me and waves me off.
In the elevator, I’m trying to figure out what to say to her, how to explain why I didn’t tell her the truth, but nothing makes sense. Nothing I say will make it okay. When I reach Violet’s door, my hand shakes when I clench it into a fist and knock.
For a moment, I’m sure she’s not going to answer, but the door swings open. Her eyes are red, and her face is blotchy, no doubt from crying.
“What do you want, Colton?” Violet questions. The agonizing anger apparent in her tone makes my chest tighten. I want nothing more than to hold her, but if I said that, she’d only scoff.
“I needed to tell you about the meeting I had with the producers,” I answer, but the look in her eyes tells me she wants nothing to do with me. “Violet, just give me a chance to explain.”
“You had ample time to explain. If Blythe and Clarissa could sit me down and talk to me about what the plan was, you could have as well.”
Dropping my head, I lean against the cool wooden door. “I can’t tell you why I didn’t admit it when we spoke, but I’m here now, and I need you to listen to me. Please?” My plea takes time to work its magic, but after a few moments, Violet opens the door, and I’m allowed inside her apartment.
We settle on her couch. She doesn’t offer me anything to drink, merely stares at me as if I were on stage. A show to watch and wait for the plot twist.
“I was in and out of meetings, and when they called me in and told me, I called you immediately. The moment I stepped out of the room, I knew I needed to talk to you. It’s not something I wanted, and I told you the night we had our dinner, I don’t want anyone else.”
“Colton, I spent my life being afraid of the heartache and pain that comes with allowing someone into my life.” I can hear the sadness in her tone, the resignation that this is over, but until she utters those words, I don’t allow myself to believe it. “I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Then allow me to show you. We can still be together. Nothing is stopping us—”
“But the producers of a multi-million-dollar television show of which you’re the face and your new girlfriend is your co-star.” Her heartache is palpable, and I don’t blame her. I don’t expect her to be okay with this, because if the tables were turned, I would most certainly not be all right with her and another man locking lips. And right now, it’s the last thing I want. Because all I need is her.
I reach for her, my hand hovering in the air for a short moment before she slips her fingers over my palm, and I pull her into my lap. She shakes her head. “You can’t fix everything with sex, Colton.”
“Let me show you. Let me make you feel good because you are mine.” My words are husky as I trail a path down her body and between her spread legs. I shift the hemline of her dress up and find the apex of her thighs, my thumb teasing lazy circles over her panties, right on the bundle of nerves that earns me a whimper. “This is mine,” I claim.
“Colton.” Violet moans my name, causing my dick to jerk against my zipper. I continue my ministrations, teasing her until a wet patch forms on her panties, and I lock my gaze on her apple-shaped face as pleasure takes over the pain I saw there when I first walked in.
She rides out the storm, the way my thumb teases and taunts her, and she takes her pleasure. Her hands land on my shoulders, and I’m in awe of how her body moves, taking and taking, until suddenly, she starts trembling in my arms.
“Shit,” Violet whispers, dropping her head on my shoulder, her lips tickling my neck as she presses her lips to me gently, small, quick kisses, but they only seem to fuel the fire she’s already stoked.
“Y
ou’re mine,” I command. “It may be too soon to say that, but I need you to know. I’m not going anywhere, and if you believe the shit in the papers, I’ll walk away from this show. No questions asked.”
We stay like that for a while. Silence hangs heavily in the living room, and I allow it to hold us hostage. I’ve said all I can say; it’s time for her to make the decision.
I won’t force her to be with me, but I need her to know that I care for her, and this isn’t over. I may have to keep up appearances as per the contract, but my personal life is my own.
“I don’t like how you make me feel,” Violet whispers. “That power you have over my emotions is scary.” Her admission is murmured in the crook of my neck, but she doesn’t move to meet my gaze. Perhaps this is easier for her to admit like this, so I settle back, my arms wrapped around her.
“I know how you feel because I’m afraid too,” I confess. “It’s not every day I find a woman who challenges me the way you do, who makes me work for it rather than chases me for a moment of my time.” After my voice falls silent, she doesn’t respond.
The quiet is only broken by the ticking of the clock Violet has hanging on the wall above her television cabinet. I take a look around her apartment, noticing how her purse and clothes are thrown haphazardly about the room. She most probably came home angry and upset. There’s also a shopping bag which has been tipped over, and inside, I notice the flowing black material that is probably the dress she told me about via text message earlier.
Finally, Violet looks up. “I don’t want to hurt,” she admits. “I don’t want my heart broken, at all.” The pain in her words stabs at my chest.
“I know. And I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you’re not because I think until this show is over,” she starts, her voice lowering, and her bottom lip trembling. “I think it’s best to put distance between us.”
