by Ava Harrison
I make my way to the front door, hoping to go unseen when I hear a voice behind me. “Excuse me, Miss? Were you with Mr. Lancaster?”
I slouch down, waiting to be utterly embarrassed. “Yes.”
“Mr. Lancaster had to leave.” She sneers down at me. “He paid the bill and said he’s sure you can find your way back to your room. You want to talk to the maître d’ because he’s arranged for transportation home for you to the States when you’re ready.”
I blanch at her words. Surely, she doesn’t mean he’s gone gone? I know we just started dating, but he wouldn’t just leave the country without talking to me.
I move lifelessly toward the villa, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and not get out. But I stop at the maître d’ first. “I was told that Spencer Lancaster has a message here for me.”
“Mr. Lancaster has arranged for you to stay here for as long as you’d like, and whenever you are ready, he’s asked me to arrange transportation with his family’s pilot to take you back to New York.”
I cringe.
“Is everything all right, Miss?”
No. “Yes,” I say solemnly.
“Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to you.”
I nod and walk back to the villa. The hurt is unbearable. Why did he just leave me? Wasn’t our time worth, at the very least, a conversation?
I can’t deal with any of it, so I throw myself into bed and sleep.
My phone chimes next to the bed and I almost ignore it, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Lindsey: Where are you? You fell off the face of the earth. I’m worried. Call me now.
I ignore it and five minutes later it chimes again.
Lindsey: I have resources to track you down, you know. And don’t think I won’t do it.
I groan. She’d love that, I’m sure. I pick up the phone, ready to give her a quick answer back when the phone starts ringing. I looked down to see it’s her. I answer.
“What do you want?”
“My God, you sound like death. Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not,” I say lifelessly.
“Where are you?”
“Barcelona.”
“Still?”
“What do you mean still?”
“Oh, honey, you know I keep up with my tabloid gossip. I saw you both on the front page of the Expositer. Are you still with Lancaster?”
“No, he left me here.”
The line stays silent for a minute. “What do you mean he left you there?”
“It’s a long story, Linds. I don’t feel like getting into it.”
She huffs. “Do you need me to get you out of there?”
I don’t want to ask for help, I really don’t, but I want to call and arrange to use his family plane even less. “Would you? I hate to ask, but I’m desperate.”
“Absolutely. I’ll take care of everything for you. Text me the address and I’ll send a car and book you a flight.”
The line goes dead, and true to her word, less than twenty-four hours later I’m back in London and in Lindsey’s suite.
When she sees me her jaw drops. “Oh my God, Liv?” She runs to me. “You look awful.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Tell me everything,” she commands.
I sit on the couch next to her and tell her all the sordid details. She holds me while I cry. This Lindsey is so different from the one I’ve partied with for years. She’s caring, gentle. An hour later she’s ushering me back to the bedroom, suggesting I lie back down. I stop her before she can push me through the bedroom threshold.
“I don’t want to lie around anymore. I can’t. I need to forget Spencer Lancaster ever happened,” I say.
“Okayyy, and how?” she says, lips pursed.
“Let’s go out and party.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Do you really think that’s a great idea, Livs? It’s not going to help you forget, and it might even make things worse.”
“Nothing could be worse. I just need a night to forget all of it.”
“I think it’s a bad idea, but if you’re sure, I can arrange it.”
“I am.”
Four hours later we’re dressed in the most provocative clothes we could find and headed back to Club X. When we get to the front of the line Lindsey turns to me.
“Olivia, promise you won’t get out of control.”
I raise a brow. “What the hell, Linds? You’re being such a party pooper.”
“I’m serious. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud of you. You aren’t like all of the others, and I don’t want you to go backward.”
“Stop. Let’s just have fun. Don’t worry about anything, please?”
Her smile is forced, and I can tell she doesn’t like my answer, but she shrugs her shoulders and follows me into the club.
Tonight I’ll forget all about Spencer Lancaster.
I’m throwing back drink after drink, but nothing is drowning out the pain. I’m desperate to be in the fog I was once accustomed to. The fact that I have gone this long without a quick bump is amazing.
Lindsey has watched me wearily all night. I’m getting annoyed, but she did me such a big favor that I don’t want to snap at her. I glance at Murph, and I raise a brow, signaling I want whatever he has. He looks at me questioningly. He knows I don’t use anymore, but I know him. He’s lacking morals.
Strolling my way, he saddles up next to me. “What’s up, Miller? Looking to partay?”
“Got anything fun?”
“I’ve got everything from A-to-Z. Pick your poison.”
“C for old time’s sake?”
“You got it.” He grabs me by the hand and leads me into another room.
My inner voice is screaming at me to turn back. It’s scolding me about how I’ve been so good and come so far. Don’t let a man send you backward, it pleads with me. Like every time before, I squash it down and shake it off. This is what I need. It’s the only thing that will help. Murph is going to help me feel nothing.
He sets up a line, handing me a rolled up bill. “All set.”
I quickly snort in the white powder, immediately feeling relief. In a matter of minutes, I’ll be ready to paint the town red and dance until my feet bleed. My smile widens until Lindsey comes flying in, face red in anger.
“What are you doing, Olivia Miller? Have you lost your mind?”
“I’ve got her. Chill out, L,” Murph says lazily. “What do you care anyway? This is your typical Saturday night.”
“It might be mine, but it’s not hers anymore.” She turns to me. “You had me believing that people could change.”
“You don’t know what I’ve gone through,” I snap.
“Are you kidding me? I think of all of us I’d know what you’re going through more than anyone. You think I don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’ve been pushed aside and left alone? That’s been my life, Olivia. At least you have a loving family. I don’t even have that. My parents can’t be bothered to even spend time with me on Christmas.”
I don’t say a word. The cocaine already filtering through my system is making me numb to it all.
“Don’t do this,” she pleads.
“It’s too late.” I turn my back and signal for Murph to set up another line. I have no plans on stopping this party.
The next morning my head is pounding and my body aches worse than it did yesterday. I slowly sit to find Lindsey in a chair, staring at me.
“My head hurts.”
“Good,” she says flatly. “I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“Wow. Is this how we’re starting the day?”
“I’m really disappointed.”
I groan. “Get in line. Apparently, I’m a huge letdown.”
She stands and walks closer to the bed. “I’m not sure what happened between the two of you, but you need to call him. What if this is all just some huge misunderstanding?”
A pained laugh escapes my mouth. “What could I ha
ve possibly misunderstood? I was with him, paparazzi came, aired my dirty laundry, and then he left. End of story.”
“It just doesn’t make any sense. He runs in the same circles as me. He might be straight-laced now, but he definitely hasn’t always been.”
“He hasn’t attempted to reach out to me. All I got was a message saying he’d pay for my room and get me a flight home.” Like some cheap whore. In hindsight, I guess I am.
“It’s been a little over twenty-four hours, Olivia. It would take about that much time to get back to the States.”
“If that’s even where he went,” I add.
“I care about you, and you’re making some bad decisions right now. Do you want to talk about last night?”
“What’s there to talk about? You’ve already made it clear that you aren’t impressed with my decisions.”
Small lines start to crinkle in between her brows. “Do you plan to fall back into those old habits?”
“If I do?”
“Please don’t. I like having one decent friend.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m far from decent.”
“You are the best person I know, Olivia. You have a chance to escape this life. Don’t look back.”
Her words hit me hard. I have come so far. I’ve managed to leave this lifestyle behind once before, and if I’m being honest, the temptation wasn’t as bad. Why? Because I stayed away. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I need to go home. My family has their shit together now, so what’s stopping me?
“Thanks for everything, Linds.”
Her cheeks turn pink. I don’t think Lindsey is used to compliments or praise of any kind, and it makes me sad for her.
“Do you want to come back to New York with me? Meet my family? They’d love you.”
She looks up, uncertainty clear in her eyes. “I don’t know. I’d just be imposing. I could get a hotel room close by,” she says hopefully.
“No, you’ll stay with me. You can come to Sunday night dinner. My family will insist.” They will. My family is great, and they would love to have her. Besides, with Bridget at school, there’s an empty space at the table. Not that it would matter; they have a strict “the more the merrier policy.” “Let’s book our flights back sometime today. I need to get out of here.”
She smiles. “On it.”
For the first time in twenty-four hours, I feel lighter. Getting away from Barcelona and all the memories is what I need because forgetting Spencer is proving to be harder than I thought.
I’m sitting in a private waiting room . . .
Waiting.
I came straight to the hospital, exhausted and wanting information. All I know at this point is that my father was rushed to the hospital with symptoms of a heart attack.
My father is the strongest man I know. The thought of him being sick doesn’t seem possible. He held our family together up until he retired. It was his decision to give me the company and withhold it from my brothers. He claimed it was in the best interest of the family. Grant didn’t agree, and since then there has been an irreparable strain.
I lean back, running my fingers furiously through my hair. I’m frustrated at the lack of news. Where’s my mother? To try to calm my nerves, I turn on the television. TMZ blares. I try to turn it off, but a picture has me snapping my eyes back to the screen. The girl that was with Olivia that night at Club X is plastered everywhere. Lindsey, the oil heiress. But it’s not her that my eyes are fixed on. It’s Olivia. At Club X. Seemingly having the time of her life.
Does she care about me that little? Surely, the hotel staff gave her my messages and filled her in on my dad, right?
I don’t have time to contemplate it. The door swings open and my brother files in. My eyes meet my brother’s for the first time in months. I suddenly feel awkward and out of place, but it doesn’t matter because he comes right to me, enveloping me in a tight hug.
“He’s going to be okay. Tell me he’s going to be okay,” I beg my brother to tell me. I’m usually the strong one, but not today. Not when it’s my father who’s in trouble. He’s the glue to The Lancaster Empire. He might have retired, but everything I do is with his guidance. I don’t know if I have it in me without him.
“Have you heard any news?” I plead once more for information.
“Mom sent me to get you. She’s speaking to the doctor right now.”
Looking around the waiting room, it dawns on me that Pierce is missing. “Where is he?” I grit out. Grant just shrugs his shoulders. My blood boils. Where the fuck is he? I want to scream. But Grant wouldn’t know anyway. So I don’t bother. “Tell Mom I’ll be there in a minute. I have a phone call to make.” He nods and walks away. Pulling out my phone I dial my piece of shit brother. Straight to fucking voice mail.
“Get your pathetic ass over here,” I hiss into the phone. My voice might be low because I’m in public, but there is no mistaking my rage. “You’re a disgrace. Even Grant showed up. Even fucking Grant is here. You’re an embarrassment to the Lancaster name.” And with that, I disconnect. There’s nothing more to say. After all I have done for him, all my father has done for him, he should have been here.
I pace for a minute. Inhaling oxygen to calm myself. Eventually my pulse returns to normal and I move to walk to the private room where they are keeping my father. Our mother is hunched forward in a chair as the doctor pats her back. She looks so sad and despondent. What if she’s not getting good news?
She looks up at me, forcing a tight smile. “Spencer,” she calls weakly.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
She looks at the doctor, who proceeds to tell me that my father has suffered a heart attack and had to undergo a triple bypass surgery. “We were able to clear the blockage. Your father should recover.”
I let out the breath I was holding.
“He’ll have to take it easy for a long time and have routine check-ups, but he’s going to be fine.”
I sigh, relief washing over my body. I take my mother into my arms, holding her tight as she cries. My parents have a perfect marriage. A billion-dollar company to control can cause a rift like none other, but it never has with them. He was absent most of my years growing up and my mom has always stuck by his side and defended him. I always knew she loved him with all her heart, but in this moment, though, I can see just how much.
It makes me think of Olivia. The image of her in the club has me sobering. I know her. We might have only just met, but I know her. She wouldn’t be out partying if she knew about my dad. There is no way. That woman would claw her way here to be with me.
So if she’s there, what does she think is going on?
When I still don’t hear from her the next day I’m even more pissed. Between her and Pierce I’m a live wire.
“What the fuck do you mean she checked out? I was supposed to get a phone call the minute she had a chance. What did you say to her?”
The villa manager is stumbling over his words. “I didn’t relay the message, sir. One of my employees did.”
“What?” I bellow. “I gave you strict instructions that the news should come from you.”
“I’m so sorry, sir.”
“I can’t deal with you right now, but expect a call very soon.”
I hang up on the man, ready to filet someone. Who the hell talked to her and what did they say? I pull out my phone and dial. It goes straight to voice mail. I wait to leave a message, but her mailbox is full. This is playing out like some horrible drama.
I need to find her.
Due to weather, we’re forced to land in Trenton, New Jersey. Lindsey called in a car service for our long trip toward New York and my family’s home.
“I just want to get there already,” she whines.
“At least we aren’t stuck in Trenton.” I scrunch my nose at the thought. There’s nothing wrong with Trenton. I just don’t want to be stuck at any airport. Lindsey has a lot of money, and her family owns a private plane, but her father cut that off. Appar
ently, she was abusing the privilege. Doesn’t surprise me. I can see how Lindsey could easily abuse her family’s resources. I internally chuckle at the thought.
“What are we going to do when we get there?” she asks excitedly.
“Calm down, killer. There’s not going to be much to do. I was kind of thinking junk food and movie night?” I shrug, waiting for her to freak out because I’m insisting that we stay in for the night. Instead, she surprises me by squealing.
“That sounds amazing.” She beams. “I’ve needed a chill night for a long time.”
“Netflix marathon?”
“That sounds perfect. I’ve been wanting to watch the rest of the seasons of Gilmore Girls.”
“That can happen.”
Lindsey knocks on the partition and it lowers. “Fargo, can you stop off at a grocery store somewhere? We need to stock up on some junk food.” She winks at me.
I shake my head, laughing. She starts listing off all of her must get items, including ice cream, soda, Cheez-Its, and candy. I throw in a frozen pizza and her eyes widen.
“That’s a thing?”
I raise a brow. “Um, yeah. Have you been living under a rock?”
“Yes, yes, I have,” she jokes.
We’re both extremely excited for our night of vegging out in front of the TV. I’m so relaxed at this particular moment, Spencer isn’t even in my thoughts. I lean back into the seat, content on catching a few Zs while we make the trip to New York. I’m just about asleep when the car starts swerving erratically from side to side.
“What the heck?” Lindsey exclaims.
The next thing I know, my body’s being hurled forward, and glass is shattering everywhere. I don’t know what’s happening, but my body is numb, and my eyes are closing. I hear sirens off in the distance and voices yelling. I can’t make out what anyone is saying. It’s all muffled. I strain to open my eyes, but everything is fuzzy and the pain . . .
Oh my God, the pain.
Sitting in the waiting room the next morning, my mom holds me in her arms as I remember being in the car, talking about Netflix and junk food, and then the swerving car and breaking glass. I was lucky. After only a few hours in the ER, I was cleared to leave. Only minor cuts and bruises. My body still aches from the jarring of the accident, but nothing Motrin won’t take care of.
