We were both completely exhausted when we finally stepped into our home in L.A., but even though he was tired, King came alive. It was like he’d been holding back in front of my parents, but the moment we hit our door, he grabbed me in a hug, kissed me, and then carried me up the stairs to our bedroom.
That night was one of the most beautiful I’d ever had with him, and the days that followed were exactly the same. King as a fiancé was way better than King as a boyfriend, and I was beginning to think that we should’ve done this a long time ago. For the next few weeks, we had romantic dinners by candlelight, he came home with “just because” gifts, and—the best one—he bought me a new car. It was a shocking thrill when he pulled me outside the house and showed me the parked Maserati.
“Oh my God, you got the new car.” Earlier that day I had pointed it out in a magazine, thinking that King would love it.
“I got the car,” he said. “But I got it for you.”
Right there I kissed him with so much passion that I was sure someone would yell out for us to take it inside. We were back to being the couple we were when we started dating.
The next morning he woke me up with kisses, and then we showered together. I watched him get dressed and admired every inch of that man. He still had all the muscles that he’d worked so hard to get with his last project, and that made him even more attractive.
“Babe, you know I have that photo shoot today,” he announced.
“Oh, I forgot about that,” I said. “How long do you think it’ll be?”
“It might run late, so why don’t you come with me? You can hang out on set and watch me work.”
“Oh, baby, that is so sweet, but I think I’d rather stay at home,” I said as I walked over to him and helped him adjust his tie.
“You sure? I don’t want you to be cooped up in the house all day.”
“I’m sure. I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t be fine. You are already so fine.” He grabbed me, and I giggled. Then he kissed me like we were in high school, and when we broke away, I sighed. There was absolutely nothing better than being in love this way.
After he left, I hung out in our den for a little while, trying to decide how I was going to spend my day. I didn’t feel like going shopping, and I wasn’t up for a lunch date with anyone, though for a second, I did think about calling Blair. But we were so disconnected from one another. I hadn’t talked to her in months, and with all that I’d been through, it didn’t even feel like she was part of my life anymore.
I picked up my phone and dialed the only person I knew I could depend on.
“Heiress, my God, are you all right?” Donovan shouted into the phone. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
“I’m fine, Donny.” I tried calming him down with the tone of my voice.
“You just up and left me. No note, no nothing, and I couldn’t reach you. I was so worried something bad had happened.”
The concern in his voice made me feel bad for not calling him, but everything had happened so fast. I’d gone from leaving King to making love to him all in a matter of minutes. It just didn’t seem right to call Donovan then.
“Donny, I’m fine. I took your advice and went home to be with my folks for a little while.”
“Good,” he sighed. “How was it?”
“Nice. You were right. Hanging out with my parents for a week did a girl good.”
“See? That’s great. So where are you now?”
I paused for a second and really thought about what I was going to say next. I hadn’t mentioned King’s name, and there was so much to tell Donovan. But I knew he would never be able to see the good part of King and me getting married. Still, I had to be honest with my friend, who had been there for me.
“Donny, you know I love you and appreciate everything you have done for me. You have been there for me through the hardest times of my life, and I am so grateful for that.” I tried to butter him up with praise and appreciation to let him know that everything he had done wasn’t in vain.
“Heiress?” Judging by the tone of his voice, he had gone back to being concerned.
“Donny”—I took a breath—“King and I are working everything out.”
“Oh, no . . .”
“And we’ve decided to get married.”
There was a long silence over the phone, and I was afraid of what was to come. Whenever Donovan was angry or disappointed, I couldn’t tell, because he would shut down and become quiet. He had always done that when we were children, and at times it had scared me, because you never knew what he was thinking.
“I can’t believe you, Heiress,” he finally whispered.
“I know what has happened but—”
“I’m really not interested in the excuses you have for him,” he interrupted me. “I’m thinking about you. How stupid can you be?”
“Excuse me?” His statement took me aback. He had never spoken to me in that manner.
“This man demands that you leave your dreams behind, he repeatedly disrespects you and loses his temper, to the point where you lose not only a baby, but all hope of having any more children. And you’re telling me that all he has to do is say ‘I’m sorry’ and you’re running back to him?”
“It’s not like that. It’s—”
“Or maybe it was the ring,” Donovan said, interrupting me again. “I get it. How big is the ring, Heiress? Is that what he did? Buy you some huge diamond ring and now all is forgiven?”
I couldn’t believe what Donovan was saying. Each word that came through the receiver hurt more than the last. I knew that King wasn’t Donovan’s favorite person, but I at least thought he would be happy that I had worked out my problems.
“I have been through a lot with this man, and I think I owe it to him to stick it out,” I tried to explain.
“That’s the thing, Heiress. You’ve been through a lot. King hasn’t been through anything. He’s been doing what he wants this whole time, and it doesn’t matter, because apparently you keep going back. Talk about being a doormat.”
I couldn’t take this conversation anymore. The insults were unbearable. I didn’t want to lose Donovan’s friendship, but I wanted King more. We were happy, and I knew that he would give me everything he’d promised.
“Donny, please.”
“Heiress. Open your eyes, and stop being some stupid, lovesick groupie.”
With that, he hung the phone up, leaving me with words that had cut me deep, especially since the words came from Donovan’s mouth.
I put the phone down, and the tears burst from my eyes. I didn’t want to lose Donovan after everything he had done for me, but I was in love with King. I never wanted to disappoint anyone, but I needed people to be happy for me.
Didn’t my parents understand? Didn’t Donovan understand? Nobody in this world was perfect, and people changed. King was a good man, with good intentions. I just needed the people who said they loved me to understand that.
Well, if no one wanted to support me, that was fine. I guess it was just going to be King and me.
Glancing at the clock, I wiped my eyes. I decided that I’d go join King on his photo shoot, after all.
Chapter 32
I still couldn’t say that I felt completely comfortable in this seat. I was always happy once I arrived here, but before we started, I wanted to run for the hills. Maybe it was just always going to be weird, sitting in front of a stranger, telling all my secrets. But every time I sat with Leslie, I felt better. So I just kept pushing myself to do it.
“All right, here we go.” Leslie came into the room and handed me a cup of coffee. Then, when she sat down, she added, “I was really surprised to get your call this morning.”
After my conversation with Donovan yesterday, I decided I needed someone to talk to. I certainly couldn’t mention him to King, so I’d called Leslie.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I was glad to hear from you. So tell me, how was the trip back to Ohio?”
“It was interesting, to say the least.” I sipped my coffee.
“Are you interested in saying the most and telling me about it?” She giggled, as if her words were funny.
“Well,” I began, “it was the first time my parents met King, and it was a bit uncomfortable at times.”
Leslie squinted, like she was confused. “I thought you were going home to get away from your issues with King. I didn’t realize he was going with you.” She jotted something on her notepad, and I realized that was beginning to get on my nerves.
“My plan at first was to go alone, but then King proposed and I thought it was time for him to meet my parents.”
Leslie stopped writing. “So you’re engaged?” she asked slowly, as if she wanted to make sure she’d heard me correctly.
I nodded and took another sip of my coffee.
She put her notepad down. “Are you happy with that decision?”
Everyone kept asking me that, but I didn’t let a beat go by. “I am, actually,” I said strongly. “I am, even if my parents and Donovan are not happy about my decision.”
She started writing on her pad again, and I tried to discreetly sit up so that I could peek at what she was writing.
“None of the people in your life support your decision to marry King? Why is that?”
I began to tell her all about the conversations I’d had with each one of them and all their concerns. I spent quite a bit of time telling her how hurt I was by Donovan and how I wasn’t so sure I wanted to repair that friendship.
“Can you catch me up on why everybody feels the same way?”
“King hasn’t always been the Prince Charming everybody wants me to have.”
I elaborated on some of the things I’d gone through with King. I gave her a little insight into his temper, and today I even told her a little bit about the fight we’d had when I’d miscarried.
As I heard my own words, I could understand how people saw King as a monster. But I didn’t want Leslie to see him that way, so I explained that the pressures of his job had a direct effect on his moods. He came from Hollywood royalty, and he had a lot to live up to.
“I know that can be so hard on a man, having to live up to other people’s standards. So I just want to be the woman who’s in his corner, who stands by him,” I revealed.
Leslie listened as I talked. And I talked as she wrote. She had no reaction, at least judging by her expressions.
When I finally stopped, she said, “Heiress, let me ask you a question. Do you feel like you have an addictive personality?”
“What?” I was completely puzzled by her question. “I’m not sure I understand your question.”
“It sounds like to me you have a slight addiction to King. He built you up in the beginning of your relationship, only to tear you down, and now you’re consistently chasing behind him to get that high you had in the beginning.”
I wanted to laugh in her face. Was this lady serious? An addiction to a person? To King? It wasn’t an addiction; it was a relationship. It was love.
And it was time. The time that I’d put in. I’d been through so much with King, trying to make things right, that I wasn’t going to leave and make it easy for the next woman to swoop in and take my place. I was going to fight for my man and the family that I wanted.
So, no, it wasn’t an addiction, and I was quite offended that she had even suggested that.
“I can tell by your face that that question struck a nerve.” Maybe she should be a psychic, because she sure read my mind. “Listen, why don’t I give you a homework assignment? Do you keep a journal?”
“No,” I said, with my arms folded. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to come back after what she’d just said, let alone do anything that she asked me to do.
“I think now is a perfect time to start. Go to a bookstore, pick up a journal, and start writing down your thoughts and feelings. This will help you verbalize things, and then later, when you go back to read what you’ve written, you may have a different perspective.”
I wasn’t happy with the way the session had gone, but I decided to do exactly what she told me to do. What did I have to lose? I used to have a diary when I was younger, but I was never consistent with writing in it.
On the way home I stopped by the Barnes & Noble in Marina Del Rey and chose a purple-flowered journal. As soon as I got home, I went out by the pool and sat down with the blank pages in front of me. But where was I supposed to start? Was I supposed to go back to the beginning or talk about how I was feeling now?
But then events began to pop into my head, and I finally put the pen to paper. I was ready to write my first entry.
Chapter 33
When King’s mother called and said that she had set up an appointment with a wedding coordinator, I was shocked.
“But we haven’t even set a date yet,” I told her.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” she said. “It’s never too early to begin planning. Especially what’s going to be such a fabulous affair.”
“Okay,” I told her, still so unsure.
“Don’t worry, Heiress. This is how it’s done in Hollywood. It’s going to take a lot of planning.”
“Well, I haven’t even really thought of what I want the wedding to look like.”
“That’s why we need to sit down with the coordinator,” Mrs. Stevens said. “I am so excited.”
Well, I guess she was. She was more excited than me if she was ready to get started now.
“This is going to be fabulous,” she continued. “I have been looking forward to the day when King would settle down with a nice girl. I’m glad he found you, Heiress. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
I didn’t know why the conversation was making me so uncomfortable. But then it got worse when Mrs. Stevens added, “And when you have children . . .” She stopped, as if she suddenly realized what she was saying. But it was too late. “Heiress, I’m so sorry.”
“Mrs. Stevens, I have to go.”
“Heiress . . .”
I hung up on her, but only because I needed to make it to the bathroom in time. The thought of what had happened to me literally made me sick to my stomach for lots of reasons.
Glancing down at my stomach, I tried to remember when it had protruded just a little. And I knew that it would probably never look that way again. I wanted to cry but was tired of doing that. I needed to look at the bright side of this. King knew that I couldn’t have children, and he still wanted to marry me. That was the bright side. That was what I needed to keep focused on.
Still, the next day I met with King’s mother and the wedding coordinator. We spent the day talking about possible venues, looking at photos of table settings, thinking about what kind of flowers I’d want and a whole bunch of other things, which at this point, I was willing to let Mrs. Stevens handle.
It was after six by the time I got home, totally exhausted. If that was what one day of wedding planning was going to be like, how would I survive months of it? All I wanted to do was get in the house, crawl onto the couch, watch TV, and wait for King to come home.
I noticed the envelope on the front door the moment I drove up, and wondered who would tape something to a door like that. My first thought was it might be something from the wedding coordinator. There was no name on the envelope, no kind of identification. It was just a plain yellow envelope.
While I never opened King’s mail, I didn’t know if it was for him or for me, so I went through the rest of the mail and then ripped open the envelope. I frowned when I pulled out the pictures. They were black-and-white eight-by-ten photos of King and some woman.
As I went through them, my mouth dropped open. The first picture was of the two of them entering a hotel, then checking in at the front desk. The next was a photo of them kissing in front of an elevator. But I almost collapsed from shock when the next picture showed the woman completely naked, riding King. Then there was a picture of King with his head buried between her legs.
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br /> I fell onto the floor right there with the pictures still in my hand. Sitting there, I went through each one over and over again. Who had taken these? I brought the photos closer to my eyes, but the thing was, none of them were a good shot of the woman. I couldn’t see her face in any of them.
Finally I stood up. Inside the den I put each picture through the shredder. These couldn’t be real. First of all, King would never let someone take pictures of him. Secondly, why wasn’t the woman’s face ever shown?
I had just gotten my happiness back in this relationship, and I wasn’t about to let it go that easily. No, these had been Photoshopped, just like the photos in magazines. They weren’t going to get me that easily this time.
As soon as I shredded the last picture, the phone rang and I froze as I looked at the caller ID screen. Was this a sign?
I had to take a long, deep breath before I answered. “Hey, babe,” I said, as if I hadn’t just seen pictures of him naked.
“You are not going to believe this!”
He was so excited, I forgot for a moment what I’d just seen. “What is it? What happened?”
“I was just nominated for an Academy Award!”
“What!”
“Yeah, baby! Can you believe it?”
“No! I mean, yes. Of course. Oh, King, I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, baby. That means when I get home tonight, we have to celebrate.”
“Oh, we’ll celebrate, all right.”
When King came home, I was ready for him. I met him at the door, dressed in nothing but Versace pumps. He didn’t say a word to me. Just lifted me up and carried me up the stairs.
And I didn’t say a word to him. Nothing except “Congratulations!”
There was no need for me to think about the pictures now. I knew for sure they were a lie designed to take all of this wonderfulness away from me.
And I was not going to let it happen. Ever.
Chapter 34
King and I had a couple of really good weeks. With the Academy Award nomination, our schedules were so busy, with interviews here, parties there. I fell into the excitement with King, with only one thing holding me back—those pictures.
Strange Addiction Page 19
