Fucking Nelly…
“Yeah...” I admitted quickly, not used to this more aggressive side of Jasper.
He nodded. “Then you leave her the hell alone, dickhead.”
Fucker.
But he’s right…
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. I may not have been able to go over there, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t send her something to say I was sorry.
Jasper strolled across the room, back to his usual blasé self.
“Oh hey, Park?” he called from down the hallway. “Don’t even think about sending her flowers… she’s worth more, and you can do better.”
I tossed the phone onto the coffee table in defeat.
God dammit…
I suck at this shit.
“You’re so fucking lazy, Charlotte.”
“Can’t you get anything right?”
“I don’t know why I waste my time.”
“You’re nothing to me.”
“Another one of my toys…”
I woke up with a strangled scream, my skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, Stephen’s words going around and around in my head.
It’s just a dream.
Breathe…
It was just a dream.
The only noise in the room was my shaky exhale of breath.
“Damn you, rock star,” I grumbled into my pillow.
My heart thumped in my chest at the thought of him.
Parker Sloan had screwed up, big time. But I couldn’t seem to find it in myself to hate on him anymore. He’d been an ass, but I couldn’t exactly blame him.
He was wealthy, gorgeous, famous and highly sought after.
Crazy is his normal.
He’d no doubt had his reasons for jumping on the defence.
Hannah had pointed out to me, once my tears had died down and her rage had faded, that perhaps Parker had also had his share of being used… and maybe it wasn’t so much about me as it was about him, and what he’d experienced. She was pissed as hell with him, furious even, but she’d made a good point.
I shook as I thought about the hateful words that had haunted my dreams just now. Parker had brought to the surface everything I’d been keeping bottled up for the past two years.
Stephen Miles…
He’d started out as a dream, and we’d ended as a nightmare.
Our relationship had begun so well. We’d met on a photo shoot – I was doing the models’ makeup and he was the new photographer on the scene.
He’d wooed me… completely and utterly swept me off my feet.
I’d thought that he was my happily ever after. I’d spent my days fantasising about becoming Mrs. Miles and having a whole bunch of babies with him. They’d have their father’s blond hair and big blue eyes, and we’d live happily ever after.
Now I shuddered at the thought of that animal ever breeding with anyone, let alone me.
Six months into our relationship, Stephen had hit the big time; suddenly he was the hottest photographer in the world. Everyone wanted him. The money started streaming in and his ego inflated with every click of the shutter on his camera. He turned into a monster. Fame changed him; it made him condescending, bitter, arrogant and self-righteous.
It also made me his prey.
I found myself living with him, in his penthouse, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.
I would only see Hannah on the occasional photo shoot, and never in a social setting, not without him – he wouldn’t allow it. But he couldn’t do much about my job; so thankfully, I still got to see her there.
Hannah and I had worked our way up in the industry and were doing well for ourselves individually. We were both working with some of the most stunning and well-known models, actresses and musicians in the world. I was busy making their faces look even more flawless than they already were, and Han was on fire, showing off the most cutting-edge hairstyles, cuts and colours.
We might not have had much time together, but Han knew me well enough to see I was in real trouble.
From the outside, it looked like I had it all.
Stephen was smart, in public he put on a performance that rivalled some of the actors he was photographing. Everyone commented on how much he adored me… how lucky I was… but at home, he showed his true colours.
He put me down, controlled me, belittled me, he made me feel worthless…
He chipped away at my self-esteem until I felt like I was nothing. He took away the fire in my eyes and left me totally at his mercy.
I endured his abuse for a year before I finally escaped. Hannah had tried to convince me numerous times that I should leave… that I could leave him… but I didn’t have the guts to do it until that day.
To say he didn’t take it well would be an understatement of epic proportions.
He’d broken Hannah’s door down trying to get to me, he’d tried to have me admitted to the hospital, stating that he was concerned about my mental state… he’d destroyed the possessions I hadn’t been able to take the day that Hannah had helped me run, and he’d made me fear going out in public.
It was all thanks to Hannah and my three older brothers that I’d held strong and stayed free. They were the only people that weren’t intimidated by Stephen. At the time, the boys had lived so far away that by the time they’d arrived, most of the damage was done, but I knew they’d played a big part in scaring Stephen enough that he stayed away, physically anyway.
Once he’d finally realised that there was nothing he could say or do to make me come back, he’d put half a million dollars into my account and gone to the media. He’d told the world that he was being blackmailed and that I’d threatened to go public if I wasn’t paid off.
He’d ruined my name; virtually blacklisted me from working, and turned the industry against me. And worst of all, he’d done the same to Hannah. He’d diminished our entire careers in one fell swoop.
He was the definition of the devil.
Hannah and I had camped out in her tiny, one-bedroom apartment, worked in bars and took out loans to get by. It weakened our bank accounts, but strengthened our bond. Not once did Han suggest we use the hush money to live off.
That’s how I knew she would be my rock forever.
Thankfully, I’d never had to admit to my brothers the extent of the damage, and the scandal had died down a few months later. Hannah and I found that miraculously, there was a small, but essential group of models, actors and actresses that were more loyal to us than they were to him, and we’d slowly but surely been able to rebuild. We worked as a team now. We took on high-end clients, doing photo shoots, film production and their personal looks too, but we also operated a more low-key service from home – we did groups for nights out, weddings, parties… whatever the client wanted. It took us over a year to get out of the red and pay off all our debts, but when we finally got there, business had boomed. I’d purchased the apartment we lived in eight months ago, and Hannah had been investing her money in the stock market.
We’d fought back against the devil and won.
Stephen had moved to Paris and married some model. I’d nearly cried tears of joy when I’d heard the news. That man couldn’t be far enough away from me.
Parker obviously didn’t know all of this.
I liked to hope that if he did, he would have reacted differently. I’d gotten to see how kind, sweet and caring he could be. I didn’t believe that he had accused me of being out to get him, with the intention to hurt me, but the issue was, he’d let someone else make him think a certain way about me, and he hadn’t even bothered to get my side of the story before he’d ripped me to shreds.
That was the real problem.
Not that it matters now…
Parker Sloan would be nothing but a fleeting memory.
“They’re all gone,” Hannah grumbled as she swung open the door with more force than was necessary, a dramatic pout on her perfectly painted lips.
“What do you mean they’re gone?” I asked, d
ropping the latest Chloe Walsh romance novel onto the coffee table with a gentle thud.
“I mean they’re gone. I got all pretty for nothing,” she huffed.
I bit my lip and tried to hold back a giggle. Han had spent over an hour styling her hair to perfection, and then forced me to do her makeup so she looked her best when the horde of photographers outside captured her leaving our apartment.
They’re gone?
“How can they be gone? There were at least fifty of them out there when I’d tried to go for a run this morning.”
I still don’t know what I’d been thinking. I didn’t run. Ever…
Certainly not on bloody camera.
Yet, something had possessed me, on today of all days, to put on my sneakers and head outside. I’d made it about five metres, gotten completely swamped, burst into tears, and retreated back inside.
“I don’t know.” Han pouted again as she flopped down onto the couch. “But there’s not a single one of them out there anymore.”
I rolled my eyes at my friend’s deep seated urge to make the pages of the gossip columns.
“Don’t sound so disappointed, I’m more than happy for those vultures to piss off to the hole they crawled out of.” I strolled towards the window as I spoke. “Surely their time is better spent watching for Britney Spears or something.”
I peered out into the street below, not yet willing to believe that I was free.
Hannah let out a huff. “Britney Spears is old news; do you live under a rock?” she scolded me. “Sometimes I don’t even know how we’re friends,” she grumbled.
I bit down on my lip to stop from laughing; sometimes she just made it too easy to wind her up.
“Why do you think they left?” I asked absently as I searched for any sign of a camera lens.
Hannah’s answer was drowned out by a knock at our door.
I froze with panic. “You better have shut the door to the freakin’ building, Han,” I warned her.
Her eyes widened. “I can’t remember,” she squeaked.
“Get rid of them,” I hissed. “Right now, Hannah Montgomery, or I swear to God—”
“I’m doing it,” she interrupted me as she leapt to her feet. “Go hide,” she instructed me with a hiss as she approached the door.
I dived behind the couch like some kind of ninja, and peeked out around the side.
She shook out her hair and did a little jiggle to readjust her dress before pulling the door open a fraction.
“Oh shit,” she breathed as she saw who’d knocked.
Who the hell is it?
“You shouldn’t be here,” she told whoever it was with her best authoritative tone.
Hannah darted her eyes back over to me and I gave her a ‘who the fuck is it?’ look.
She shot me an apologetic stare.
“Can I come in?” the voice behind the door asked.
My skin prickled, and I knew instantly who it was.
Rock star.
What is he doing here?
I didn’t know if he was here to apologise, or to try to ensure his reputation was safe… or because he genuinely wanted to see me….
Unlikely…
But I doubted Han had the willpower to keep him out for much longer.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. We only just managed, by some small miracle, to get rid of those vultures you caused downstairs,” she scolded him, adopting my use of the word.
I had to laugh quietly at that. One minute, Hannah was mourning their disappearance, the next, it was a miracle they were gone.
The girl has got a flair for the dramatic.
“Yeah…” I heard Parker reply. “Sorry it took me so long to get rid of them.”
“You got rid of them?” Hannah asked, her question mirroring my thoughts.
“Yeah,” he replied gruffly. “Had to promise each one of those fuckers an interview… but it worked.”
I felt my mouth drop open.
“They won’t bother you two again,” he reassured her.
“She’s really hurt you know?” Hannah blurted out abruptly. “And I’m out of this world pissed off with you for bringing that shit up for her again.”
She was. Hannah had ranted and raved until she was red in the face. She’d calmed down, like I had, and seen that it was probably a genuine mistake laced with asshole behaviour, but still, she’d been fuming.
“I know,” he replied quietly. “That’s why I’m here. Can I come in? I really wanted the first apology to be to Charlotte.”
I climbed slowly out of my hiding place and slid over the arm of the couch to sit down. I already knew she wouldn’t refuse him his chance to say sorry – I wouldn’t want her to either.
I could see Hannah giving Parker the stare down.
She peeked over her shoulder at me and I gave her a small smile to let her know it was okay to let him in.
“Alright…” Hannah told Parker slowly. “But you put a foot wrong, and I’ll help her haul your sorry ass right out of here.”
Parker chuckled lightly. “Warning heeded.”
Hannah stepped aside to let him in.
The minute he laid eyes on me I knew my heart was in trouble.
I sucked in a shallow breath.
He looked like shit. It was clear he hadn’t slept and his eyes were all wild and crazy looking. His signature jeans, t-shirt and chucks were in place, but he was missing that sexy confidence he usually wore like a coat of armour.
He looks worse than I feel.
I found myself feeling sorry for him. It was fucked up and wrong, but it was there. I cared about him already and seeing him hurt, was hurting me.
He growled deep in his throat as his eyes raked over my face.
“Charlotte,” he breathed, his voice husky as he approached me.
I saw Han slip away out of the corner of my eye.
“Rock star,” I acknowledged quietly.
He made a choked noise. “Should I just start grovelling now?” he asked, full-blown desperation in his voice. His eyes pleaded with me as he crouched down on the floor in front of me. “Because, fuck, I’m so, so sorry, Charlotte, I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”
I was the biggest sucker I’d ever encountered. One look into those ice-blue eyes full of sorrow and I’d forgiven him. I wasn’t going to tell him that yet… but still.
Total sucker.
“Why are you here?” I asked him cautiously.
“To make it up to you?” he said it like a question as he frowned at me. “I was an asshole.”
“You were,” I agreed. “But… why do you care? You don’t strike me as the kind of guy that goes around begging for forgiveness.”
He ran a hand through his messy, dark hair. “I’m not… fuck...” he mumbled, looking at the ground.
I sat silent, waiting for more of an explanation.
He looked back up into my eyes. “It’s you,” he said quietly, placing one of his hands on mine. “I don’t know what it is about you, Charlotte, but you’ve got me hooked.”
Me?
I have him hooked?
This conversation was not going in the direction I’d expected. I’d thought he’d apologise and then he’d probably leave. I’d assumed that this was about his reputation, not about me.
He must have been able to read the confusion on my face.
“You matter to me,” he insisted. “And I know that sounds fucking crazy, since I barely know you, but you do…you’re different from anyone I’ve met in a long time, and I know my life is mental, but I want to find out more about you, if you’ll let me?”
I stared hard at him, my mouth forming a surprised ‘o’.
Is he…?
What?
“You realise you could walk downtown and take your pick of anybody right?” I blurted out.
He snorted in disagreement. “That’s not entirely true,” he argued.
“It is,” I insisted. “I saw it that night in the club.”
> He slid onto the couch next to me, right in close, so our legs were touching. It gave me goosebumps that I hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“Okay… so where were you on Saturday morning?” he asked.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Getting a coffee at Maurice’s.”
Same thing I did nearly every morning – visit the coffee shop a few blocks away.
“Alright… so if I’d just strolled into Maurice’s, and offered myself up, you’d have said yes?” he asked.
I laughed softly, seeing now where he was going with this. “God no,” I answered with a smile. “I would have rolled my eyes and left you to the Cindy’s.”
“The Cindy’s?” he asked, momentarily distracted from his little hypothetical scenario.
I nodded and rolled my eyes. “Yup. They work there, I don’t know their real names, but that’s what I like to call them… that, or bimbo one and two.”
He chuckled. “That’s my point, Charlotte; I don’t just want some bimbo. I want you.”
I hated to admit it, but my insides did a flip at his confession.
I sighed. “Well… I forgive you for acting like an ass.”
“It won’t happen again,” he promised, his eyes begging me for forgiveness.
I had to admit, I felt pretty damn powerful right now. I had a bad-boy, tough-guy here who was begging me for another shot.
“I let Nelly get in my ear…. Jasper was right, she’s a bitch,” Parker tried to explain.
I bit down on my lip, watching his rambling with amusement.
“She spilled your address to the paparazzi.” He grimaced. “I fired her, and I’m gonna hire a dude instead... a straight one, like J suggested. These chicks, man, they’re too much work,” he carried on.
He was adorable when he was sorry.
“I wanted to send you flowers,” he mumbled. “But Jasper told me not to. Said you deserved more than that, and he’s right…”
I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold in a giggle. He was staring at his hands and was clearly uncomfortable with explaining himself like this.
“I couldn’t think of what you deserved, so I pimped myself out to the media to get you your privacy back…”
Paper, Scissors, Rock Page 7
