The Worst of Me

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The Worst of Me Page 26

by Lisa J. Hobman


  Flicking the pages, she stopped when a familiar face stared up her and her breath caught. Another photo on the same double page spread caught her eye too and her mouth fell open.

  No ... no it can’t be.

  With a pounding heart and stinging eyes she pulled her phone from her bag. Hitting her speed dial she waited a couple of seconds for her call to be answered.

  “Lor, we’re going home right now. I’m an idiot,” she sobbed.

  Chapter Forty

  Nick

  Drumming his fingers on his knees, Nick watched the town of Inverness whiz past the window. Den had hinted at what—or rather whom—would be waiting for him at the Kingsland and he wanted to be there an hour ago. Was he playing some cruel, heartless joke or had Cat actually turned up at Belladrum to see him? Surely Den wouldn’t be so evil?

  He clenched and unclenched his jaw as the driver pulled to a temporary halt at some traffic lights. He knew roughly where the Kingsland was from his visit to Inverness with Cat and he was on the verge of jumping out of the car and running across the city like the hero in some romantic movie, but thankfully the car began to move again.

  After what seemed like a lifetime the driver pulled the car around in front of the prestigious-looking building that he remembered passing before. It was still as impressive as the first time he saw it only now he would get to be inside there with Cat. If it was Cat. But who the hell else would Den send him to meet at a hotel? It had to be Cat.

  A wide smile tugged at Nick’s face. Way to go, Den, you old romantic. The chauffeur stepped out of the car and opened Nick’s door for him. He climbed out and tipped the driver before walking into the brightly lit hotel foyer. A smart young bloke in a suit greeted him and handed him a key card before running through the rigmarole of lifts and floors, etc. but all Nick wanted to do was get up to the room and kiss Cat. Well, if she’d let him, obviously. He wasn’t about to start forcing himself on her but he could hope she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her, couldn’t he?

  The lift couldn’t go fast enough and he checked his appearance in the mirrored glass walls. After Den had told him the partial news—kind of cryptic in all honesty—he’d changed out of his stage clothes and taken the fastest shower known to mankind just so he could get in the damn car.

  Once he reached the correct room he hesitated. Should he just let himself in? Or should he do the gentlemanly thing and knock instead? He toyed with both ideas and went with the latter. He waited a few moments and tried again. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep? It was after midnight and he couldn’t blame her. If she was asleep he could let himself in and snuggle up to her on the bed and just hold her. God, he had missed holding her. They could talk in the morning and the band would have to wait. They’d be waiting for a lot of things from now on where Nick was concerned. He’d decided the new leaf he was turning over would start once he and Cat were back together. He was determined to make that happen. Whatever it took, he would do it. He’d never felt this way about anyone before and now all the cheesy love songs made sense. He just knew.

  He swiped the key card and opened the door. To his surprise the room was brightly lit but there was no sign of Cat. Maybe she was taking a bath. A shiver travelled his spine and he began to stir to life below his waistline. The thought of her naked, wet body all covered in soap suds did strange things to his insides. Her hair would probably be pinned up in a knot with a few escaped strands just touching her shoulders. He licked his lips in anticipation as he walked through the plush suite to where he presumed the bathroom would be.

  But the ridiculously deep tub was empty. Bereft of water and of a naked, soapy Catriona. Confusion washed over him. Someone had definitely been here because all the lights were on and someone had clearly thumbed through the magazines on the table. Maybe she had gone to the foyer in the other lift for some reason and they had passed each other? There had to be some logical explanation.

  He decided to sit and wait a while and sank down onto the leather couch. A bucket of melting ice and an untouched bottle of champagne were ready and waiting for her return, as was he.

  There was a newspaper open on the table and he reached down to pick it up, figuring it would be better to read than to pace the floor. But as soon as the paper was in his hands and he saw the article his heart leaped into his mouth. His stomach roiled as he stared in disbelief at the words and photos that greeted him.

  Rock star Nick Dacre cheated on me in Scotland even though I’m carrying his child.

  A vaguely familiar-looking brunette sat on a love seat, one hand on her belly and the other holding a hanky to her eye.

  “What in the actual fuck?” With anger rising and a red mist descending, he read on.

  Aspiring model and actress Ilka Stahl told the Inverness Evening Standard exclusively how Nick Dacre left her pregnant with his child whilst he ran away to Scotland to spend time with his lover.

  Stahl: “I couldn’t believe it when I saw the pictures of him on the front of my local newspaper with that red-haired woman. I wondered if she knew about me at all. The pregnancy was only newly confirmed at the time and I think he got scared. I want him to know that I am willing to forgive him if he will just come home to Germany and talk to me.”

  When asked where she met Dacre, Stahl informed the Standard that they had met in London when she was working a campaign for a well-known UK clothing designer but that they had intended to marry and bring their child up together at their home in Germany.

  Pictured below is an image of the couple in happier times when Sonic Idols were on tour in Germany earlier this year. Stahl told the Standard that Dacre is such a passionate man, and looking at the photograph she provided it's evidently clear the connection the couple shares.

  It was Miss Stahl’s intention to grab the attention of the rock star whilst he is here in Scotland again in the hope he will realise how much she misses him. We wish the couple all the best for the future.

  “I’ll fucking kill her, Chris. What the fuck does she think she’s doing playing with my fucking life this way?” Nick screamed as he paced the floor of the hotel suite that was meant for a reconciliation.

  Chris tried his best to reason with him. “That's a lot of fucks even for you Nick. Just calm down, please. Stress isn’t good for you, you know this, mate. Come and sit with me and have a drink, eh?”

  “I don’t want a fucking drink, Chris. I want that bitch’s lying arse to make a retraction right the fuck now!”

  Chris held up his hands. “Whoa, hey, Den’s on the phone to Blue Demon right now, mate. He’ll get it sorted. I promise we’ll do all we can.”

  Nick gripped his hair at the roots and tugged. “No fucking wonder Cat did a runner. She must hate me right now.” His stomach knotted as he imagined her finding the newspaper on the coffee table. “It’s either a cushion or some other pitiful bastard’s kid. I shoved her off me at that club. She stormed off in a huff and I should have seen this coming.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the crumpled up newspaper. “That photo of us supposedly kissing is me fighting her off. And how the hell did Den not know about this before? I thought he dealt with shit like this. Firefighting, he calls it. Except this is a shitting inferno. Oh bollocks, and Liam will have seen it too. That poor kid looked up to me. He must think I’m a lying scum-bag now too. Jeez, how did this even happen? My life’s totally ruined.”

  Chris rubbed his hands over his face. “Nick, I think you’re being a bit melodramatic, dude. Your life is hardly ruined. It’s just one stupid bitch with a grudge. It’s no big deal. Not in the great scheme of things.”

  Nick flared his nostrils and stopped pacing. He turned slowly to face his so-called best friend. “You don’t fucking get it, do you? I’m in love with Catriona McCreadie. I love her so fucking much the thought of what she must think of me right now makes me not want to live anymore.” His voice broke and his eyes began to sting. “I love her Chris,” he whispered.

  Chris stood and stepped towards him. “Bu
t you hardly know her, Nick. Is this thing enough to base your future on? Really? Can you honestly know that you love someone you only spent a couple of months with? In fact, less than that ... really?”

  Nick’s lip trembled and he nodded. “Really. You have no idea Chris. None. Those weeks I spent with Cat in Scotland were the best of my adult life. And that includes all the time I’ve been famous.” He sniffed and swiped moisture away from his eyes. “I was given the cruellest gift today. I was given hope. Hope that she had realised it wasn’t me that contacted the press and got them to come to Gairloch. Or hope that I could at least tell her that and she would believe me. But most of all I had the hope of seeing her again. Even if it was for her to turn around walk away again. Just the thought of seeing her face, Chris. That was enough. And now this manipulative, publicity hungry liar has ruined it all. She’ll never have me back now. It’s over. It’s fucking over and I have no clue how to deal with that.”

  Chapter Forty One

  Catriona

  In the week that followed the débâcle that she had been subjected to at the hands of the band’s manager, Cat had cried so much and gone over and over in her mind the paranoia that followed. Had he set her up? Was the article in the paper meant to be found? Was that his way of ejecting her from Nick’s life once and for all in the hopes of getting his star back? In her opinion these were all fair assumptions. But she was very much aware that her mind wasn’t exactly functioning at full capacity. She hadn’t been sleeping. She had been refusing calls and visits from the press left, right and centre. And she just wanted it to be over.

  She wished it was possible to turn back time just like Nick had wished in his song. If she could she would go back to a time when Nick Dacre was just some rock star she happened to meet briefly when she cleaned his hotel suite in London. If it had all ended there she wouldn’t be puffy-eyed and pale. She wouldn’t have her dad trying to insist she see Doctor Innes for something to help with the lack of sleep. And her pregnant best friend wouldn’t be running around worrying about her instead of preparing for the imminent arrival of her first child.

  Nick Dacre had a hell of a lot to answer for.

  She had taken some time off from working in the pub and Tam had hired another person to help out temporarily. This at least took a little of the pressure off but it simultaneously laid more guilt on top too. Add to that the anger she felt towards herself for letting things get to this state and Cat was ready to jump on a plane and run away from her life.

  She had been trying to lose herself in books but reading fictional stories about love and loss was just as painful as thinking about her own experiences so she had given up on that method of distraction too. Music was no better. In fact, every DJ on Scottish radio seemed to be out to get her and every song played was sad and melancholy, and a reminder of what she had almost had.

  Liam had been around with flowers and chocolates, bless the poor kid. The newspaper article had floored him. His hero had well and truly been knocked off his pedestal and he had reverted back to the negative behaviours he had expressed before Nick showed up.

  Yes, Nick Dacre had a hell of a lot to answer for.

  She was watching some terrible daytime talk show about a man who had abandoned his children to make a new life with a younger woman and that even reminded her of Nick, and she stood to switch it off when there was a knock on the door.

  She opened it and a grinning Liam stood there. Before she could speak he flung his arms around her, almost knocking her from her feet.

  “It was all a lie, Cat. All of it. That model lied about the whole thing. There’s a refrac ... extrac ... reflec ... they’ve printed an apology!” He thrust the latest copy of the Inverness Evening Standard in her face.

  She snatched the paper from him. “Come in a sec, Liam.”

  He shook his head. “Na. Can’t. Am taking my mum some flowers. I think I owe her. I’ve been a shit, as Nick would say.” Even when he admitted his misdemeanour the grin was still firmly fixed in place.

  She shrugged. “Oh, right. I’ll bring the paper back once I’ve done reading it.”

  He turned and jogged down the corridor. “Nae bother. That’s your copy. Bye, Cat!”

  And with that he disappeared out the back door.

  Cat walked over and slumped onto the couch. She flicked through the pages until she spotted the photo of a familiar-looking but sombre dark-haired woman wearing sunglasses.

  The headline read:

  It was all lies.

  Sonic Idol’s Nick Dacre is innocent of all claims.

  Cat’s heart tried in vain to burst through her chest and she attempted to hold the newspaper steady as she read on.

  We have today received a retraction from aspiring German model Ilka Stahl about the allegations she made concerning her relationship with Nick Dacre. She now admits to falsifying all connections she had to the rock star and claims it was done to attract the attention of the man she had failed to seduce when he was touring Germany. She apologised to the Standard and asked for her apology to be made public in order that Mr Dacre’s fans may be informed that he did not father her child nor was she ever pregnant.

  The photograph in which she was seen to be allegedly passionately kissing Sonic Idol’s front man was staged by her and an accomplice who had accompanied her to the after party where the band was present.

  Den Starky, the band’s manager and spokesperson made the following statement: “Nick Dacre has never had any kind of relationship with Ilka Stahl. She is simply a publicity hungry groupie who set out to seek revenge on a man who turned down her advances on account of the fact he was very much in love with another woman. I hasten to add that Nick is in the process of trying to mend his broken heart thanks to Stahl and her false accusations and the toll they placed on his actual romantic relationship. I sincerely hope that she seriously considers any future attempts to seek stardom in this way. This is someone’s real life she has played with and broken.”

  The Inverness Evening Standard would like to point out that the original article was printed in good faith and apologises for any upset caused to any of the parties directly or indirectly involved.

  Catriona sat on her couch letting the news of the retraction sink in. Once again her insecurities had got the better of her and she had judged the man she supposedly loved. There was no way he would forgive her now.

  She had ruined everything.

  It was all her own doing and she would have to live with the fact that she had twice jumped to the wrong conclusion and had now lost any final chance to make things right.

  She lowered her head into her hands as her body shuddered with the grief of losing him all over again.

  Catriona was woken by the sound of someone knocking on the door again. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the clock. It was half past six which meant she had been asleep for at least two hours. She definitely needed it considering the lack of real rest she had received lately.

  She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the hallway as she went to answer the door and a pale, drawn young woman stared back at her. Dark eyes replaced the pretty emerald green she was used to seeing. She had her mother’s eyes and had always loved their colour. But today they were lacking any brightness.

  When she opened the door Lachlan was standing there looking rather sheepish.

  Her thoughts immediately sprang to her best friend. “Oh hi, Lachy. Is everything okay?”

  He shook his head. “No, not really. Can you come with me?”

  Her stomach knotted. “Oh shit, what’s happened? Is Lorna okay?”

  His face was expressionless. “Just come with me, okay?”

  She nodded and sent up a wee prayer that her friend and her unborn baby were both fine. She had been a useless friend of late and vowed then and there that would change immediately if only they could be okay.

  She popped her head around the door of the bar to let her dad know she was nipping out and he waved his acknowledgement.
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br />   Letting the door close behind her, she turned and followed Lachlan to his car and climbed in the passenger door which he held open for her.

  Once Lachlan was in the driver’s seat he turned the key in the ignition and sat with his hands on the steering wheel.

  Without turning to face her he stared out the windscreen. “I want you to know that I would have told you, Cat. About Camden. If you hadn’t overheard us talking I would’ve told you everything. I care about you a great deal. You’re family to me and Lorna and I feel so bad about what he did. Regardless of the fact that he’s my future brother-in-law I want you to know that I wanted no part of it. I was disgusted with him. Disgusted. I haven’t been able to bring myself to approach you about the whole thing but it’s eaten away at me, Cat. I’m so, so sorry. Do you think you can you ever forgive me?” He finally turned to face her and the pain of regret was evident in his eyes.

  She smiled. “I heard everything you said in response to Camden too, Lachy. I don’t hold you accountable for any of it. There’s nothing to forgive.” She reached and squeezed his arm. “But please just tell me if Lorna and the baby are okay?”

  He nodded. “They’re fine. You and me are going for a wee drive.”

  She scrunched her brow in confusion. “Where?”

  He winked. “You’ll see. Sit back and enjoy the ride, eh?”

  She fastened her seatbelt and without further questions sat silently pondering where he was taking her, only hoping that Camden had no involvement whatsoever.

  They had only been driving a short time, and for some strange reason Lachlan turned the car into the narrow lane that led to Rockhill Cottage and she turned to protest.

  He held up his hand to halt her. “Don’t ask questions, okay? Just go along with this. It’s my way of making amends.”

  “Go along with what, Lachy? What the hell is going on? Why are we heading up here?”

 

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