by Ava Moore
Drew smirks at me and I wish I could bitch slap her lips right off of her face. “But your business is our business, Trish. When you are out in the public eye like this, it is our business. Plus, when celebrities start talking about you personally, it is definitely our business.”
“What do you mean?” I can feel my pulse intensify throughout my entire body like I’m one big beating heart.
“Didn’t you see the video?” Drew snickers. “I think you should go have a look.” Her and what’s-her-face back off and I log onto the Internet right away, where the Star Struck website is my homepage, naturally.
The headline reads, STONE WILL LET HIM UPGRADE YA and there is a video clip with Ashton walking away from the awards show with Samantha Stone in tow and even though I hesitate, I press play, put an ear bud in my ear to hear the dialogue and lean forward in my chair.
The video starts off with flashbulbs illuminating Ashton and Samantha’s faces as they both try to conceal them and trying their damndest to get to the safety of the waiting SUV that is there to pick them up. “Ashton! Ashton! What happened to the fat girl?” I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and my heart stops beating temporarily as I wait for his answer.
He smiles at the question, but refrains from answering, not preventing Samantha from opening her big, fat mouth though. “He just needed an upgrade. What do you think?” she toys with the paparazzi, who all cheer in delight at her response, while Ashton walks ahead of her, pulling her along like a little dog into the back of the SUV. She turns around to the paparazzi and blows a kiss right in the lens of the Star Struck camera, like she was directing it towards me.
Just an upgrade? I was just some fat chick to him and a one off? That’s what he was going to tell people? I can feel the blood start boiling in my body and my heart is beating so fast, I am sure it is going to jump out of my chest. I place my hands over my mouth, trying to choke back the tears even further, perfectly in sync with Drew wheeling back over.
“Just look at it this way. You have the platform to make his life a living hell if he really did you wrong. The power is totally in your hands,” she smiles at me one hell of an evil smile and heads back towards her desk. “Just think about it.”
“But he didn’t even say it about me. It was just that Stone bitch,” I’m trying not to let my emotions get the better of me, but I’m slipping.
Drew smiles. “He didn’t have to honey, he said by not saying anything at all.”
She’s right. He didn’t defend me and he had the perfect opportunity to do just that. She smeared my name publically and he was right there, able to counteract it and do something about it but he chose not to. I feel sick to my stomach and I choke back the tears, doing my best not to let them fall. I can’t let him get the better of me, no matter how much fun we had the other night. We live in totally different worlds and I am crazy to think it ever could have worked.
I have to hand it to Drew; she has a fantastic point for being such a moron. Ashton has no idea that behind my writing façade, which I guess wasn’t really a façade at all, that I am working for Star Struck all along. I have all of the power in the world and I have juicy gossip I can use against him. I’m able to make his life a living hell, if I choose to and he has no way of finding out that it’s me. It’s perfect. It’s foolproof. It’s…
“Parker, in my office,” Jane’s voice pierces through my thought bubbles and makes me snap out of my evil plotting regime. I turn around sharply in my chair and face her, but in true Jane fashion, she’s already back at her desk.
I’m out of my chair in seconds and taking the nervous all to familiar walk to Jane’s desk, past the bozos who refrain from talking. I like the fact that when Jane is around, they don’t bother harassing me, but I have to be honest, I would rather them harass me than to have Jane around me all of the time. I turn the corner and am steps away from Jane. I pass the threshold to her office and close the door behind me. “Yes, Ms. Hobbs?”
She looks up from studying the papers on her desk. I wonder why she would bother busying herself with something new when she knew I would be at her desk in seconds. She perplexes me, a lot. “Morning, Miss Parker, please. Take a seat,” she gestures for me to sit down and I reluctantly accept. The last time I sat down on her guest chair, I seriously felt like my ass was going to be shredded into a million pieces. Maybe it’s this uncomfortable for a reason. She’s so evil. She passes an envelope across her enormous desk towards me. “Take this.”
No matter the situation, I can always feel my body trembling when I’m in the presence of Jane, like I have the chronic shakes. Plus, it doesn’t help that I seriously feel like I’m about to lose all control and start uncontrollably bawling like I had just watched The Notebook for the first time. I grab the envelope and open it slowly, worried that something is going to jump out at me. “I don’t have all day,” her words startle me out of my paranoid trance.
Thanks for putting the pressure on, Jane. I whip open the envelope and inside, is a VIP pass to tonight’s private test screening of Ashton’s first movie. My heart stops. “What is this?”
“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Jane snarls between her teeth, talking to me like I’m some kind of an idiot. “I want you to show up and catch Ashton off guard. I don’t know what his PR team is up to or if this Samantha Stone thing is real and I want you to find out. Plus, I’m sure you have seen the video by now. I want more dirt on him and I want you to ruin his career before it even begins. I want to take down Ashton Croft and I need your help.”
There is something else in the envelope. I pick it up and flip it over. It’s a check for a thousand dollars. “And that’s for getting your hair done, your makeup done and picking out something sexy for tonight. I want your tits up, your hair big, your heels high and a story in my inbox before 3:00 am. Have fun.”
I feel like I’m going to vomit all over Jane’s desk so I take a deep breath in, trying to stifle the nausea. I’m silent and this is not the reaction that Jane is looking for. “You will do this for me, yes?”
I nod my head, involuntarily. I swear, the woman could make me put a gun to someone’s head and force me to pull the trigger, even though I know it would send me to prison for the remainder of my life. I’m petrified of her and she knows it. “Good. Then that is all. Back to your desk,” she shoes me away like I’m some annoying fly who is still pestering her.
Stunned, shocked and ready to puke at a moment’s notice, I walk back to my desk, my head hanging down staring at the pass before me. The check in my hand feels as though I just sold my soul to the devil and this is what I got in return. It feels like dirty money and it is hard for me to accept, knowing what it is intended for, but I have no choice. I can never even imagine saying no to Jane about anything. Hell, I’d even disclose my most personal secrets, the ones that I won’t even jot down in a diary entry, to her if she asked me. I hate the fact that I’m so intimidated by her and that she is able to brainwash and control me in the way that she does. It’s sickening but I have no choice; I work for the woman who basically controls America in my eyes and like I am going to put my well being on the line. Not a fat chance.
I sulk in my chair as I sit down on at my desk. An email comes in from Jane seconds later, detailing where my hair and makeup appointment will be, along with the information for my dress fitting at Saks Fifth Avenue. I exhale deep and let my lips buzz together as I breathe. I can tell that the girls are looking in my direction, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce and verbally attack me some more, but it never comes. I’ll take the small victory, as I feel like my eyes are on the verge of letting the tears escape and I don’t know how much longer I can choke them back before I lose my mind.
I can’t even begin to imagine being face-to-face with Ashton tonight, let alone on a big night for him and seeing him with that Stone bitch. I know that the odds of him and I living happily ever after were slim and that the thought probably never even crossed his mind. I had just fallen for his trap, wha
tever kind of trap that may have been. It is still odd to me the way things went between us. It just doesn’t compute or add up properly in my mind but I don’t want to waste another moment trying to decipher the situation. It exhausts me just to think about it. Now, to add what Samantha publically slandered about me last night to the equation without him defending me, I just want to erase him from my memory. I am a joke to him and to everyone else; nothing less and certainly nothing more.
On the positive side of things, having to go to this event tonight means a day of pampering for yours truly and escaping the hell on earth that is the Star Struck office. Even though I know all of this is happening for the wrong reason, I’m a woman and I can’t turn down the opportunity of getting all prettied up and purchasing something expensive, especially when it’s not my money. I’m a New Yorker after all; we thrive on brand names and making a statement and I’m planning on making the biggest statement of them all tonight; a big metaphoric middle finger right to Ashton Croft.
As I leave the building and head via taxi to my hair appointment, a call from Cris comes through on my phone. “Hello?”
“Trish, are you okay? I’ve been trying to reach you for the past few hours!”
She’s right. Ever since she told me to go look at Ashton pasted all over the Internet with that bitch last night, she has been trying to dial me nonstop; I just am too busy pouting to talk. “I’m sorry. I’ve just been really busy.” Half true.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just have a lot going on right now. It feels like I have no control over my life right now and everyone is telling me what to do, when to do it and how to do it. It’s just really frustrating.”
“I saw the video. That guy is such an asshole. I’m so sorry.”
I can feel my breath tremble and I know it’s audible. Just don’t cry, I keep telling myself. Just don’t cry. “I’m okay. I plan on totally ruining his career anyways so I’ll get my revenge,” I laugh, even though it hurts to laugh and to act so superficial to someone I trust so much.
“Am I one of those people?” Cris stammers on the other line. “Am I one of those people that you just want to leave you alone?” I love the girl to death and I know she just cares about me so much, that she feels the need to protect me but right now, I just want to be left alone. She isn’t doing nearly as much damage to my heart as Jane and Ashton are doing combined right now, but when something heavy is going on in my life, I don’t want to talk about it. It was like the moment I told her my dad died when I was seven. She cried about it for days on end, even though for me, it happened nearly ten years prior, so I wasn’t over it, but I accepted it. Cris was a talker and she wanted to talk about feelings and talk about emotion. For her, it was how she dealt with stress and heartache. My heart has taken such a beating through my twenty-five years, that sometimes it felt like it was made of stone. I had my way of dealing with hard times and Cris’ way just made it harder for me.
“You’re not babe, you just know how I like to deal with things. I just need some time to figure it out, okay?” I’m trying to be as polite and patient as possible, but I’m at my wits end too.
“Okay,” she mumbles back to me, saddened and defeated. I hate making people feel like shit, especially when they are only doing something for me out of the goodness of their heart. I instantly want to take back what I said but sometimes, I feel like Cris needs some tough love.
“Are you still planning on coming into the city this week? Is our coffee date still penciled into your busy schedule?” I figure this is a great way to counter what I had just said and to reassure her that I do love her very much.
“I am. I’m thinking maybe Thursday? Maybe Friday? Can that work for you?” Her voice brightens on the other end and it makes me feel a little better.
“I don’t know my hours, but I’m sure it will be fine. Just keep me posted, okay?”
“Okay,” she still sounds low and disheartened.
“Are you okay, babe?” I realize I haven’t been a very good friend these past few days as everything has been about me and me only.
She starts to break down on the other line. “I don’t know anymore…” her voice trails off and I can feel my heart quicken in my chest.
“What’s wrong? Is it Greg?”
“Yes,” her voice is nearly a whisper and I can literally feel the tears escaping her eyes on my own cheeks.
“Tell me.”
She sniffles and I can hear the tremble in her voice, but she is barely able to form words from the sobs.
“What did he do?”
“He…” she pauses and tries to collect herself. “He has been cheating.”
There it is, the confession I didn’t want to hear but that I knew was coming. Greg was and is an asshole and he treats Cris like shit. She does everything for that family and would continue to do everything. Her boys mean the world to her and she is able to work, own a successful business, raise two boys who would turn into well-mannered gentlemen and keep a marriage alive. I knew it all fell on Greg’s shoulders. He is a needy asshole who is painfully insecure. Cris has everything and more going for her and guys would kill for the opportunity to exist in her world. She settled for Greg and maybe he finally realized that so he had to pull some dick move in order to make himself feel better in the form of scoring with a much younger woman so he can feel like he still has it. Sickening. “I’m so, so sorry love. I don’t know what to say.” It’s half the truth and half a lie. All I want to do is say, “I told you so” and “He’s a piece of shit. Move on,” but I know I can’t. I have to shut my mouth and let her tell me what she wants to and when she wants to, at her pace.
“I think I might bring the boys into town this weekend and we can stay at a hotel. Do you have any that you would recommend?”
I want to offer her to come stay with me and I wish she could, but I know Cris’ standards and they were anything but living in a hole in a wall like I do. “I have a few options I can send to you. I’ll be there for you, I promise. I owe you for being there for me on call when I was going through it with Dan, so let me return the favor.”
“Thank you so much for being such a great friend,” Cris responds. I can sense that this is a huge weight lifted from her shoulders for telling me, but I can’t get over the fact that I am so selfish that every time she tried to get in touch with me, it was probably more so for her to vent than to find out what was going on in my life – I was just too self-involved to read the signs.
“I haven’t been though and I’m sorry,” I feel like I could apologize a thousand times over and it wouldn’t even come close to reflecting how bad I truly feel. “I’ve been so caught up in my own life I didn’t even take the time to care about yours. Please forgive me?”
“It just feels good to be able to talk to you again. I needed it.”
I could have done so much more but talking isn’t going to help any. I have to show her and prove to her that I am worth it. “We are going to have a great weekend, okay? I promise.”
“Sounds great.”
The taxi pulls up to the saloon and the fare comes to a halt. I pass him a bunch of bills and gesture for him to keep the change. “Listen, I have to get going but I can text you whenever you need me, okay?”
“Talk soon. Thanks.” I can hear the other line go silent and I know she hung up. I feel like our conversation ended on a low note and it was my entire fault. How could I have been so oblivious? It’s not like me to be so narcissistic and flaky, especially when it came to my friends. I am so absorbed in everything Ashton Croft that I can’t even recognize when my best friend is going through shit. It disgusts me. What am I so upset about anyways? The fact that some guy took me on a great date, rocked my world by fucking me senseless and never called me again? It resulted in me getting a lot more money at work for barely any effort. Meanwhile, Cris is going through hell and back and all she wants is to talk to someone about it, while I am living an experience any other woman would kill for.<
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I feel anger pulsing through my veins and resentment towards Ashton for putting me through all of this. I have my perfect opportunity to get back at him and to put him in my past tonight and I am going to milk it for all that it is worth.
CHAPTER TEN
I don’t know if it is the norm to be in a hair stylist’s and makeup artist’s chair respectively for a combined total of four hours or if they just need to put in a little extra elbow grease for myself, but regardless, my makeover is complete. I barely recognize the reflection of the girl in the mirror, which I’m not sure is a good thing or a bad thing. I look beautiful. No, I look sexy. No, I look better than beautiful and sexy; I just don’t know what the word is to describe that. The hair stylist chopped off a good five inches off of my locks, which I was ready to tear up while it was happening but apparently I needed it because honestly, my hair feels like silk. It is incredible. My makeup is catered to my face shape and eye color, making my brown eyes look lighter, almost like a dewy hazel complete with a smoky seductive eye. The dress, which was actually handpicked for me, fits me like a glove. It’s tight, navy blue and sexy and it helps that Valentino made it. Swoon.
The whole time I’m at the saloon and Saks, I feel like I’m in a dream world. I keep looking down at the pass in my hands, which takes me out of this fantasy I’m in and reminds me why I am here. Jane assumes that I am out to get a story and out to prove myself to her. Unbeknownst to her, Ashton and I had a true connection that pulled us in to each other, like a magnetic force that we couldn’t resist. I wasn’t doing this for anyone else’s benefit than my own and now, all I want to do is avoid him but I am being pressured to see him and I’m not a willing participant. I have no choice though. Jane instilled fear in my that could only be compared to my worst nightmares and even still, she would still come out the victor.
Once I’m all done up and my look is completed with a complimentary pair of Louboutins, kill me now, I see a black Lincoln town car pull up on the side of the street and I know it is for me. In these past few days, I’ve been in more private cars than I ever thought I would in my entire life. Free and comfortable transportation is something I can get used to, as long as it is under different circumstances, of course.
