Living Hell (Lost and Found Book 2)

by Elizabeth Lynx

  I threw my hands up. “What do you want from me? I am in this fake scheme of yours so I can get my house back. I have been doing everything right. Every morning Iona gives me a sweet kiss on the front porch before I go to work. We are the perfect picture of a loving couple.” One that doesn’t speak to each other.

  “The paps aren’t dumb. They know you stage that, but the bruises don’t lie.”

  “You know what’s dumb? This fake relationship. Maybe this house isn’t worth all the chaos it’s causing. So what if I’m out the fifty grand I put down on the house. It’s not like I haven’t been poor before, I’ll survive.”

  I was tired of living a lie. It was hell knowing the woman I went to bed with every night didn’t want to be with me. She’d rather be surrounded by cameras and Botox-filled heads and people who cared more about fame than love.

  And all I wanted was her.

  “I get it, but even if I.D.—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Babette, her name is Iona. She’s not an image on a screen, she’s an actual human being with a name her mother lovingly gave her.”

  This superficiality ended at my door. It would not be allowed in my office.

  She was silent for a moment, her eyes scanning the room in search of something. Her usual cool bravado took a hit, and it was about damn time.

  “You’re right. Iona is not just my client, she’s a friend. I do care about her. Maybe I’m not that good at showing it, but I do. I had hoped her time here would help her see that there are people who care about her. It was a silly idea my masseuse, Magic Mike, gave me.”

  She gave me a weak smile and I relaxed, slipping into the chair across from my desk.

  “Magic Mike?”

  “Everyone has an indulgence. Mine is being massaged by young hot men.” My face grew warm at her admission. “But this new one reminded me that I.D., uh, I mean, Iona was more than a client. He said the way I spoke about her was like a mother gushing about her daughter. He suggested the comeback story and maybe she should go back to her hometown. He suggested a few other ideas like the fake engagement to an old flame. Iona never actually gave me that idea.”

  “How did he know about me?”

  “I had mentioned your name because I knew about you already. As her manager, I have to know everything, good and bad, about her past.”

  I was guessing I was the bad part.

  “I thought he was sucking up to me when he offered me this advice. I do have a lot of sway in Hollywood. Now, I’m thinking it’s something else,” she mumbled the last part.

  “What, something else?”

  “Oh, nothing. I’m dealing with it.” She gave a stiff smile. “The point is that I realized Iona is like family. I want to see her happy, and maybe I went too far but I do think you’re a good man. She deserves someone good in her life.”

  “I do care about her. The problem is, this is fake.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and wondered why I was telling the person who could destroy me with one word, my true feelings for Iona. “At least, that’s how she sees it. I don’t. Iona’s counting down the days until she can hop on a plane and head back to the West Coast again.”

  “And you? You said you wanted all this to end. When she leaves, she takes the paparazzi with her. Your life will go back to normal and you will have the home of your dreams.”

  I felt like I was being tested from the way Babette stared at me. As if she knew the answer and I would either pass or fail in her eyes, depending on what I said next.

  I didn’t care what she thought. She could take my house and leave me with nothing, and it wouldn’t hurt as bad as Iona waving goodbye.

  “I’m dreading the day she leaves, again.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Iona

  MEETING WITH TERRANCE Adamian. Location Fire Mountain Side Brewery. Third booth on left. Seven p.m.

  I stared at the text Babette sent me an hour ago. Thankfully, Jake drove me and was out sweeping the parking lot. Most of the time he kept a low profile and I’d forget he was there half the time, but when we went out to crowded public places, like a restaurant, he had to make sure the place was safe.

  I knew when he came in he’d sit quietly at the bar, watching to make sure I wasn’t harassed by an overly zealous fan or photographer.

  As I scanned the brewery which looked more like a restaurant with rustic flare than an actual brewery, I kept my eye out for Terrance. The third booth was empty. Glancing at the time on the phone, I realized I was about five minutes early.

  “Reservation?” the cute hostess with the blond ponytail asked as she approached me.

  “I don’t know. Do you have anything under Adamian? Or Dell?”

  She lifted the leather folder in front of her and scanned the page. “Nothing for those names.”

  “Try Gotti.”

  “Right here. It’s for a party of three.”

  Three? Maybe Terrance was bringing his assistant or writer with him?

  “Yes. Am I the first to arrive?”

  “No, there’s one here.” She glanced back and then looked around the room. “He’s stepped away from the table. Would you like a seat at the bar until he returns or at the booth?”

  “The booth, please.”

  She led me there and I took my seat. My stomach grumbled as I perused the menu. I was going to chow down on their Fire Burger. It looked epic and I never could resist anything that had maple bacon on it.

  “What looks good?”

  I glanced up in surprise to find Tyler sliding into the booth across from me.

  “What are you doing here? I’m about to have a meeting with a director.”

  It had been over a week since he said the dreaded L-word. He was taking this I.T. Scheme way too seriously. I felt bad making him lie about our relationship, but I wasn’t about to fall for his claims of love again.

  He could get away with it when we were teenagers, but I was an adult now. Life had happened in the last eleven years, a lot of it bad. If he believed I was still the same starry-eyed kid I was when we met, he was a fool. And I didn’t want fools in my life.

  “Yes, I know. I have an idea I want to pitch him.”

  My head shot back. “But you want nothing to do with Hollywood. You’re just a simple country vet.”

  “Perhaps, but this simple vet got you a birthday gift.” He lifted a golden-wrapped box and slid it across the table.

  “You remembered.”

  I couldn’t help the little thrill I felt that he got me a present. Lifting the box, I did my best to hide the smile that tugged at my lips.

  “Honestly, Olivia reminded me yesterday. I think with all that’s happened the past three weeks, I can barely remember what I had for breakfast.” He chuckled and his eyes crinkled with devastating effect on my heart. I wanted to be mad at Tyler. How could he throw the L-word around like it meant nothing? But my heart, and especially my girly bits, liked him a lot.

  “It was an egg white veggie omelet with toast and cream cheese and some apple slices. Oh, and a glass of OJ.”

  His smile faded as his mouth fell open. “You remembered.”

  I rolled my eyes and got to work unwrapping the present. “It’s hard to forget someone eating something so gross. It probably tasted exactly like this paper.” I held up a ripped piece of the wrapping.

  “I’m used to it.”

  I understood why he ate that way, but I still enjoyed teasing him about it. The one time I went to Tyler’s house when we were teenagers for dinner, his father ate like a king. There was so much food I thought Tyler’s family was rich.

  I came to find out most of the food was from the local grocer his father bribed. And the food was either fried or covered in butter. Nothing was fresh and there wasn’t a vegetable or piece of fruit in sight.

  His father ate more than his fair share, going back for seconds and thirds. Tyler would tell me how he was never going to be like his father. I thought he meant he wasn’t going to lie and cheat people, which Ty
ler didn’t. But I realized now that he meant that he would be the opposite of his father in every single way possible.

  He’s the healthiest person I knew, and I was including my personal trainer in that statement.

  When I got the paper pulled away, it revealed a black thin box. Opening the cover, I gasped, “Is that my mother’s?”

  He nodded. “I think so. I’m not sure, but I found it online and knew I had to grab it.”

  I lifted the delicate black bag edged with white beads and decorated with a colorful woven flower pattern. I remembered sneaking into my mother’s closet when I was young and pulling it out to admire. She never let me touch it, but it was too beautiful to be hidden away. Told me it was her great-grandmother’s purse. That her grandmother gave it to her when she left the reservation to marry my father.

  It was too bad my father never showed up for the wedding. Left my mom pregnant at the courthouse with nowhere to go. She was too embarrassed to go back to the reservation—so many people had told her my dad wasn’t worth leaving family over.

  But she was young, and like me, she believed it when the man she fell for told her that he loved her.

  I held the bag up and realized it was a sign. Perhaps my mother was watching from above, warning me to not make the same mistake again.

  “I hear you loud and clear.”

  Tyler tilted his head in confusion. “What?”

  “Nothing. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “Am I late?” A short man with the best head of hair I had ever seen came over to the booth and sat next to me.

  I held out my hand. “No. I’m early. I’m I.D., nice to meet you.”

  He took it and gave a firm, but brief handshake. “Terrance Adamian. And you must be Dr. Tyler Ferguson. Babette told me all about you.”

  He reached over the table and the two men shook hands.

  “Babette mentioned Tyler?”

  I was confused. More than confused, it felt as if I stepped into an alternate universe. When did Babette care about Tyler other than him being my fake fiancé? And when had Tyler held any interest in Hollywood? When I used to have my Vidtube channel, I asked if he wanted to make guest appearances and he adamantly turned me down. Told me the last thing he wanted in life was to be used by people for money or fame.

  I was hurt by what he said at the time but having lived in Hollywood, I soon realized he was right.

  “Yes. While I’ve been curious about doing a web series, I don’t think I can implement his idea. I only do movies. But I know some people who might be interested in doing a reality show involving a country veterinarian.”

  My mouth fell open as I watched Tyler. He appeared happy with this announcement. The man who was afraid to leave the house the first day I showed up three weeks ago because of all the paparazzi wanted his own reality show?

  “Are you feeling all right, Tyler?”

  “Yes, of course, I am.” He chuckled and turned his attention back to Terrance. “So, do I come up with a proposal and submit it to your friends? Or what’s the process?”

  “It would be a pitch and let me talk to them first. They’ll reach out to you if it’s something they’re interested in.”

  I waved my hands between them. “Hey, I thought you were meeting me for a possible movie.”

  “I am, but I’m helping Babette out, too. She wanted me to meet with Tyler as well.”

  I made a mental note to call Babette after this and find out what’s really going on. Tyler had never been interested in the entertainment industry. I mentioned two weeks ago that he’d get more clients if he made a television commercial and he said he hated the idea of being filmed.

  “I was thinking something like, vet by day and player by night. Maybe the show could be called The Dirty Vet,” Tyler said.

  Terrance nodded and rubbed his chin, mulling over the ludicrous idea.

  “Reality viewers would eat that up. Not just your typical vet show. Something with a little more drama.” Terrance clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I know Jammie at Planet Life would eat that up.”

  This was a joke. It had to be. Tyler was doing this to fuck with me. He was getting me back for forcing him to be my fake fiancé. Little did he know I’d call him out on it.

  “That does sound like a great idea. Why don’t you demonstrate it for us?” I waved my hand toward a table filled with women. “Go get your flirt on, Tyler.” I leaned back, folding my arms.

  Terrance had taken out his cell phone and was typing away, nodding in a way that demonstrated he wasn’t really listening but was pretending to go along with what was said.

  Tyler, on the other hand, was intensely focused on me. His eyes narrowed but he was silent. I got him—he didn’t want to go around chatting up women no more than he wanted this show.

  “Fine. Sounds good. I have to go give something to Carter anyway.” He pointed across the room to another booth where Carter and Olivia were sitting.

  I slashed my arm in the air. “Sounds good. Have at it, dirty vet.”

  He sighed and as he stood, I distinctly heard him mumble a curse word under his breath. Tyler took his time walking up to the women but when he did, it was like magic. His winning smile appeared and within a minute, half the table was laughing and batting their lashes at him.

  He had always been a flirt but as a teenager, he was terrible at it. We used to play a game of who could flirt worse, and he usually won. When a woman slapped him—which happened a lot—it was game over. He would be crowned champion.

  But with age came talent, I suppose. Those women were eating every word up like he was their dessert. Something twisted in my chest. I wanted him to stop, come back to me, and admit he only wanted me.

  But I shouldn’t want that.

  My stupid heart was spending too much time with Tyler. I had grown soft living under the same roof as him. I missed his touch even though we were sleeping in the same bed.

  When it was bedtime, I would wait until he fell asleep, binging on Netflix, and then sneak into bed. Each night it was harder and harder to stop myself from rolling over and cuddling up next to him.

  “He’s good at that.” Terrance pointed to Tyler, still flaunting his flirt-whoreness.

  “Yup.” I lifted the menu, refusing to let the scene destroy any more of my heart than it already did. It was my own fault coming back to this town. I was never happy here, and the one person who could bring a smile to my face was working hard to make everyone else grin but me.

  “I thought you two were engaged?”

  “I thought we were, too?” I mumbled as I held the menu higher.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing. He’s still working on the idea.”

  I slid my eyes to Terrance, lowering the menu slightly. He nodded and rubbed his chin again.

  “I’d been toying with an idea for a while. Now, stop me if I’m overstepping the line, but what if I do a documentary on you two? The ins and outs of a celebrity with their non-famous fiancé leading up to their wedding.”

  Oh, Tyler really wouldn’t like that. That would be going too far. Yes, I’m angry that he’s using my heart, knowing that I’m leaving at the end of next month, but I wouldn’t do that to him.

  I put the menu on the table and was about to snuff out Terrance’s idea when I saw Tyler wink at me. And I knew what that meant. He was still flirting with those women but letting me know he was having one over on me.

  That jerk was doing this on purpose.

  “Actually, that’s a great idea, Terrance. I can’t wait to tell Tyler. He’ll love it.” I winked back at Tyler.

  Two could play at that game.

  NINETEEN

  Tyler

  “I HAD SO MUCH FUN TONIGHT,” I said, lying in bed a little light-headed from the three craft beers I drank and for once, thankful my brother was there to drive us home. “And the food. I loved their spiced fries.” I pointed toward the ceiling fan as it whirled.

  Iona was in the bathroom changing.
I hoped she wouldn’t go downstairs and watch TV like she did most nights. I wanted to talk to her. Explain that I was joking about the reality show idea. Babette thought it would be a great way to get Iona’s attention. Snap her out of her refusal to see what was in front of her . . . me.

  “Mmm.” Her voice floated out of the bathroom.

  “You looked beautiful tonight. I didn’t get a chance to say it, but you did.”

  She was always stunning. But something in her eyes sparkled tonight. There was mischief staring back at me, and I wondered if she liked the idea of me having a show. It’s not something I would love to do, but I’d be willing to learn to tolerate the cameras and attention for her.

  A show, not so much, but I would learn to live with her lifestyle.

  It didn’t feel right to flirt with those women in front of Iona, but Babette swore a little jealousy went a long way. I couldn’t look at her the rest of the night, but the beers helped loosen my guilt. I was thankful she didn’t hate me by the time we got back.

  There was a buzzing sound coming from the bathroom and I wondered what she was doing. Did she use an electric razor to shave her legs?

  “What’s that?”

  The noise stopped. “Nothing.”

  Must be some private woman thing that she didn’t want me to know about. I didn’t understand much about how women groomed themselves having never lived with one, but I knew they kept things private.

  I got up and took off my jeans and peeled off my T-shirt. Just me and my boxer briefs sliding under the covers. The buzzing started again, but I chose to ignore it this time.

  But after a while, I heard some squeaks and finally a moan from Iona. I threw off the covers and went to the bathroom door.

  “Are you okay, Iona? Do you need me to help you with something?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded deeper than I had ever heard it. I reached for the door handle and opened the door.

  She yelped and said no but it was too late. I saw what was making that noise and why she was moaning. She had her action team at work.

  “Holy shit.” I stared at her glistening pussy with a huge purple dildo stuck out of her. And just below it was something small, also purple, sticking out of her ass with a wire attached to it.