Bad Girl: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Lisa Lace

  “Then you just fell onto his mouth?”

  I hold up my hands helplessly. “I’ve tried to pretend I don’t feel anything for him, but I do. He’s funny. He’s quirky. He’s interesting.”

  “So cozying up to him has nothing at all to do with getting ahead?”

  “He makes me feel good.”

  “If you think he hasn’t screwed every pretty little blonde thing that’s walked into his studio, then you’re even more naïve than I thought. At least when I flutter my eyes at Harvey, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  “Lucas isn’t like that.”

  “Of course he is, Ivy. Grow up.”

  I look down at the pavement. The skies above are gray but it’s not raining—yet. It’s humid, though, and I wonder if that’s why it’s hard to breathe.

  Jane takes a step closer to me, her whole body slumped in defeat. She lowers her voice. “You don’t talk to me like you used to.”

  “I try.”

  “No, you don’t. You’ve become someone I don’t know. All these secrets. It started when you didn’t tell me Lucas wanted us to record a demo, and now you’re trying to hide the fact you’ve got some kind of relationship with him. The one thing that always made what we had so special was that I could trust you. I didn’t realize how quickly a little success would go to your head.”

  “That’s not fair. You’re acting like I’ve tossed you aside somehow. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You’re a hypocrite.” She places her hands on her hips and fixes me with a hard stare. “You have double standards. It’s one rule for Ivy Evans and another for everyone else. I can’t talk to Harvey, but you can sleep with Lucas. I have to be honest with you, but you can spin everything into a lie.” She shakes her head. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

  “No, Jane. I don’t.”

  “You think I’m holding you back. You’ve let me get you this far, and now you’re going to drop me like I’m some kind of leper.”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  “Am I? I had my suspicions you were having a fling with Lucas, and I just saw you two kissing. Now I’m going to have to second-guess everything when it comes to you because you’re incapable of being straight with me.”

  It’s my turn to stamp my foot. “You know what, Jane? I don’t have to answer to you.” I wave a hand in the air. “I don’t have to answer to my father, either. I’m sick of tiptoeing around everyone in case someone takes offense. Does anyone give a damn what I want?”

  Jane rolls her eyes and takes a step back, giving a little mock bow. “Oh please, Ivy, tell us all what you want.”

  “I want you to stop being the morality police! I want you to stop calling all the shots. I want you to trust me.” I run my hands through my hair. “Jesus Christ, Jane. We practically grew up together, and you don’t know me by now? I would never betray you. Did you ever consider that maybe I really like Lucas? Did you ever think maybe I’ve been holding back for your sake?”

  “Don’t hold back for my sake, princess. You have your cake and eat it. What Ivy wants, Ivy gets.”

  My voice rises to a high-pitched yell. “You’re the one who wanted all this! I never wanted to sign a deal with Fox Records.”

  “No. You wanted us to never get anywhere. You just wanted to obey your father, no matter what it might cost us.”

  “And now you want me to obey you.” I exhale slowly. “I wish I could make one move without everyone looking over my shoulder.”

  Jane blinks and tears roll down her cheeks. When she speaks, her voice is soft and sad. “You were listening to our track without me.”

  “Lucas was trying to cheer me up. I was crying because you left me behind—again. You’ve convinced yourself I’m using Lucas to cut you out and have been treating me like trash. And when Lucas was there to comfort me, you used that as validation for all your crazy conspiracy theories.”

  “You could have talked to me.”

  “I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. You’ve got a constant chip on your shoulder.”

  Jane holds up her hand, sniffing back her tears. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I think we need some space. We’ll finish recording the debut album. We’ll sing together. But outside of work, I’d really rather you left me alone for a while.”

  My throat tightens with hurt. “You’re going to ghost me, now?”

  “I need some distance to gain perspective.” She looks me up and down with disdain in her eyes. “You do you.”

  Lucas

  Three weeks after Ivy and I kissed in the studio, I invite the girls out to celebrate the completion of their debut album, but the mood is anything but light. Jane and Ivy hardly look at each other, let alone exchange words, and I feel like I’m caught in the middle of a feud.

  Since the kiss, Ivy has done her best to avoid me. Her only explanation was that she’d fallen out with Jane and couldn’t get too close to me right now. The frustration is incredible. With Ivy, it’s always one step forward, two steps back.

  Being near her is almost unbearable; the desire is so strong. I keep replaying the time we’ve spent together in my head—little snippets of conversation that bring a smile to my face—like when she mentioned the stegosaurus wine holder or laughed at my story about the quad bike. Every now and then, I find myself closing my eyes and picturing the night of the masquerade. How close our bodies were. How passionate and fiery the night was. I can only imagine what a night with Ivy would be like now that I know so much more about her. I wish I could find a way through her barriers, but Ivy has made it clear she doesn’t want to be with me.

  I order drinks from the cocktail menu, and the three of us sit together at a round pub table by the window, overlooking the street. It’s raining, and the lights of the city reflect back off the puddles on the pavement.

  When the drinks arrive, I break the silence by proposing a toast. “I want to congratulate you both for how far you’ve come. I have enormous faith in you both. Here’s to the start of something great.”

  Neither of them repeats the toast, they simply start to drink in silence.

  I look from one to the other. Ivy is wearing a wine-colored chiffon dress, which cinches at the waist and floats down to the knee. Her eyes shimmer with a subtle burgundy eyeshadow. I can see men glancing at her from across the room. Jane is wearing a much more revealing crimson bodycon dress with a plunging neckline that only just covers her behind. She still can’t compare to Ivy’s beauty—and she knows it.

  The tension in the air is so thick it almost catches in my throat. All my words seem to get caught up in a ball of discomfort wedged beneath my tongue.

  “Your debut track is going to be played on the radio next week,” I tell them. “Are you excited?”

  Jane says nothing, she only rolls her eyes and looks away.

  Ivy forces a smile. “We are.”

  “Is there something you girls want to talk about?”

  Jane glances across at Ivy, staring daggers at her. “I don’t know. Is there something we want to talk about, Ivy?”

  Ivy’s eyelids flicker like she’s holding back tears, and she clears her throat before she speaks. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I was waiting for tonight to give you some other great news.” I wait for a reaction but neither woman responds, so I continue. “You’re going to be the supporting act for Treyna Locke next month.”

  At that, both of them look up.

  Jane’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

  I smile. “I am. She’s heard your stuff, and she’s excited to work with you.”

  “That’s incredible!”

  Treyna Locke has had a song in the top ten for the last six months straight. She has a best-selling album out on the market right now. I knew the girls would be psyched to hear they’d be playing on the same stage.

  Ivy smiles, too. “You mean we’re actually going to be playing live?”

  “In front of a sizeable audienc
e, too. Not hundreds of people, thousands.”

  She closes her eyes like she’s savoring the news. Jane darts a glance across at Ivy like she resents the fact she’s smiling.

  “What will we be playing?” Jane asks.

  “I’ve negotiated eight songs. Two of them can be anything you’d like.” I smile at them. “If you wow with your own stuff, it’ll be a great avenue into doing more of that kind of music. Let the people say what they want.” I take a sip of my rum and Coke. “I have a feeling they’ll want to hear more of the authentic Row Girls and not the stuff we’ve been pushing on you. Hang in there, girls, your time is coming.”

  Jane beams. “It just goes to show where a little compromise can get you.” She speaks to me, but her words are clearly aimed at Ivy.

  Ivy shrinks down in her chair like she’s wounded then shakes off the hurt and sits up straight, lifting her chin defiantly. “It’s a good thing we insisted on keeping some of our own stuff or nobody would have ever heard our original sound.”

  “I’m sensing a little bit of passive aggression here, ladies,” I say. “Can we tone it down a bit?”

  Ivy looks across at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s been a long week.”

  “You’ve done the hard part now. It’s time to let bygones be bygones and enjoy the progress you’ve made. It’s time for whatever has come between you to be laid to rest. Do you agree?”

  Reluctantly, Jane nods. When Ivy sees her relent, she nods as well.

  “You’re right,” Ivy says. “This has gone on too long.” She offers Jane a smile. “Can we just enjoy tonight?”

  The corner of Jane’s lips twitch in a smile. “Yes. We deserve this.”

  I raise my glass. “Cheers.”

  The girls lift theirs too, and we clink our drinks. Finally, there are some smiles at the table, and the chill is gone from the air. We start to talk with excitement about their album and the upcoming show. Jane and Ivy are starting to seem like their old selves again.

  I smile to see Ivy talking enthusiastically with her best friend. For her sake, I hope the cease-fire lasts. I want her to be happy.

  While we’re talking, a trio of young women approach the table. The girl in the middle—a Barbie-girl type with platinum blonde hair—approaches me with a nervous giggle.

  “Excuse me, are you Lucas Fox?”

  “Forgive me, ladies, but I’m not working right now. If you’d like to get in touch, you can find my details online.”

  The girl, blushing brighter, takes a step closer, egged on by her friends. “Actually, I’m not looking for your number. I was hoping I could give you mine.”

  I glance sideways at The Row Girls. Jane’s eyes widen, while Ivy looks pointedly at the table with an amused half-smile on her face.

  I hold up my hand. “Not tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you sure?” She hitches up her skirt a few inches and leans forward to show me her cleavage. “I’m very…talented.”

  “I’m sure.”

  She accepts defeat graciously and takes off with her girlfriends in tow.

  Jane raises an eyebrow. “Lucas Fox. He can get any woman he wants.”

  I look across at Ivy. “I actually have my eye on someone already.”

  “Ugh.” Jane rolls her eyes and picks up her purse. “I’m tired. I’m going home.”

  “Jane, don’t leave!” Ivy stands and grabs her by the wrist. “We’re celebrating.”

  “Three’s a crowd.”

  Ivy

  “That wasn’t very helpful.” I sink back down into my chair. “You know how touch-and-go Jane and I are at the moment. Why would you push her buttons like that?”

  Lucas holds up his hands innocently. “I didn’t do anything. It looked like you guys were back on track.”

  “You know perfectly well that was the first time Jane and I have spoken civilly in a while.” I glance across to the door through which Jane has just stormed out. “Guess that’s shot now.”

  “I’m sorry. I forgot there were rules to follow.”

  “You know why I keep pushing you away.”

  Lucas moves to the stool next to me. “Tell me again. Why do you keep pushing me away?” His eyes are intent. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin and smell his cologne. The scent of it takes me straight back to the bedroom. I’m giddy with desire.

  “You know why.”

  “I know the lies you keep telling yourself. You can’t because of your father. You can’t because of Jane—”

  “I can’t because we’re supposed to be professionals.”

  “Yet it was you who kissed me in the studio.”

  Every time Lucas is close to me, I lose all reason. He makes my head spin like I’m a starstruck groupie. It’s hard to keep my thoughts straight when my mouth is growing dry from craving him. I curl my hands into my lap to keep from reaching for him again.

  “I was feeling low, and what you said touched me.”

  “What did I say?”

  “That you were proud of me.” Remembering it makes my heart swell with affection once more. With all the people pushing me this way and that, Lucas has been the only one to celebrate with me instead of putting me down or berating me.

  “I meant it,” he replies. “I know how hard you’ve worked, and I recognize how loyal you are. To get as far as you have while supporting your father and making concessions to Jane must have been hard. I respect you, and I am proud. I knew the second I saw you that you were destined for greatness. You’ve exceeded my every expectation. Those tracks are incredible.”

  I smile. “You’ve been kind to me, even when I’ve thrown it back in your face.”

  “The stress gets to everyone.”

  “I never thought it would get between me and Jane. I feel awful about everything.”

  Lucas scoffs. “Why? What have you got to apologize for?”

  “I promised Jane I’d stay away from you, remember?”

  “It’s a promise you shouldn’t have made.”

  It’s so easy for him to say. Lucas doesn’t have anyone counting on him, and he doesn’t depend on anyone else. He’s a lone wolf, in command of his own destiny.

  He continues, leaning forward to talk to me in a low, urgent voice. “You never do anything you want.” He counts on his fingers. “You would have given this opportunity up for your father. You stay away from me for Jane. But what about you? What would make you happy?”

  I close my eyes and lean back. “For everyone to mind their own business and let me live my own life.”

  “You’ve got to know what you want, Ivy.”

  I snap my eyes open. “I know what I want. I just won’t walk over people to get it.”

  “They’ll walk over you instead.”

  “Please, Lucas. I don’t need a lecture.”

  “I don’t mean to lecture you.”

  He runs a finger along my arm. The light touch makes my skin tingle and my breath catch in my throat. I want him so much.

  “I just want you to realize you deserve so much more than what you’ve got right now. You deserve a father who supports you, a friend who trusts you, and, even if I hate to say it, a label that will let you lead the way.

  “Everyone’s turning against you, and I can’t stand to see it. In my eyes, you’re perfect. Beautiful, kindhearted, loyal, talented. You should be the one calling the shots, Ivy.”

  He leans in and kisses me just below my ear. The movement of my hair and the touch of his light stubble tickles, sending shivers of delight down my spine.

  “You’re warm,” he says. He kisses my collarbone. “You’re funny.” He kisses my shoulder. “You’re kind.”

  He leans in to kiss me on the lips, and I instinctively push him away. As soon as I do, I feel a wave of regret. I want to pull him toward me, kiss him with everything I’ve got, and go home with him, where we can lose ourselves between the sheets. I want to wake up with him in the morning and stay for breakfast. I want to introduce him to people as my bo
yfriend rather than my manager. Instead, I think of Jane and our history together. Things are so tentative between us right now. I know our friendship and our career hang in the balance. There’s an unspoken ultimatum in the air.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, using every ounce of willpower within me to keep Lucas at arm’s length.

  I pick up my purse and step down from the stool. “I’m tired, Lucas. I’m going to get going.”

  “One day I’ll stop trying to win you over, Ivy. I’ll get the message and let you go.”

  His words strike me in the heart. I don’t want him to give up. Maybe one day I’ll give in.

  “Goodnight, Lucas.”

  Lucas

  Ivy stands in front of me with a nervous smile. “How do I look?”

  She’s wearing a flowing midi skirt, with a pair of sky-high heels and a crop top. Her lean, slim midriff is on display. Her hair has been voluminized to its full extent. She looks entirely unfamiliar, but I can see why my father pushed for skimpy outfits. She looks like a glamor model.

  I instantly feel guilty for thinking that. I know Ivy would hate for anyone to make that association. She takes herself and her art too seriously to be reduced to nothing but a sex object.

  “You look lovely,” I say.

  “I feel like a slut.”

  “There’s no such thing. You’re empowering women.”

  She smiles. “When did Lucas Fox become such an outspoken feminist?”

  “Since Ivy Evans asked me to comment on her outfit.”

  Ivy wraps her arms around her stomach self-consciously. “I hate it, you know. These clothes.”

  “You look stunning. Honestly. You could wear a garbage bag and still be the most beautiful woman at this thing.”

  She beams. “You’re always so sweet, Lucas.”