Fugly

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “That man is about to become the most hated guy on the planet. If you side with him, if you defend him, they’ll take you down, too. The press will have a field day.”

  “They’ll have it either way,” I pointed out.

  “If you come out as one of the injured parties, at least you’ll have the sympathy of the public. You can move on. Eventually. But you can’t defend that jackass, Lily. You can’t do that. He deserves what’s coming to him.”

  Wow. Okay. I wasn’t expecting this reaction from John at all.

  “He has a disorder, John. He can’t help it.”

  “Lily, do you hear yourself? He put you in this position to save his own ass without you knowing.”

  “I know.” It was the reason I felt so goddamned hurt. And pissed. “But I agreed to the arrangement. I don’t think I can come out against him.”

  “You need to save yourself now, Lily. He made his bed, let him lie in it.”

  I ended the call with John, got on my running clothes and shoes, and did the only thing I could do in that moment. I ran. And I ran some more. And when I didn’t think I could run any farther, I Forest Gumped myself and kept on running until I literally had no idea where I was. Some suburb with those little houses stacked next to each other in long rows.

  I walked to a small playground next to an empty elementary school, found a drinking fountain, then dropped down under a tree. Running hadn’t given me any answers. Not one. Because while my brain and logic said I needed to distance myself from Mr. Cole and possibly follow John’s advice, my heart didn’t want that. I didn’t want to hurt him. Or anyone, for that matter.

  The fact was, I realized that I liked the person I was. No, I didn’t like everything, but the kind, genuine, and caring parts of me were good. I didn’t want to “get my hands dirty” or be a cutthroat bitch. So if that meant I wasn’t cut out for a future in the corporate world, then so be it. But I also realized I wasn’t a quitter. So wherever this thing landed, I had to trust that I’d make it through this. But I had to do it with a clear conscience.

  The other thing I thought about was my looks. The situation was absolutely forcing me to confront the one thing I’d been trying to ignore my entire life. Yes, that had been my way of “accepting” things—just pretend it’s not really there. Just pretend I’m okay with everything. But this one aspect of my life and body that I didn’t want to face would soon be under a huge, glaring public spotlight. It was as if karma was finally having it out with me. You can run, Lily, but you can’t hide.

  So fine. My face was a problem for me.

  There, I’d said it.

  But what did it matter now? The issue was in my head, and it didn’t matter if I had this face or another. If I got into a car accident and ended up with scars all over my body, I’d still be me. Lily Snow. It wouldn’t change my insecurities at this point—the damage was done—and it wouldn’t make me more or less smart or more or less loved by my friends and family.

  On the other hand, as long as I had this face, people would never see past it. And now the world would only be looking at it.

  So if my face really didn’t matter, then why was I holding onto it so tightly? And why was I so afraid to trust the one person who truly understood me?

  Because he’s the only person who really understands you.

  I was afraid, because he made me feel so vulnerable. I couldn’t trust my judgement around him.

  ~~~

  From my red Mini, I buzzed Mr. Cole’s gate at around seven p.m. and a woman answered the intercom. “Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Cole? My name is Lily Snow.”

  “Yes, of course. Come in.”

  The gate buzzed, and I drove up to his door. There were several cars already in his circular brick driveway, including a limo. I didn’t know why, but I’d been expecting him to be alone.

  When I got out of my car, a nice middle-aged woman in a black dress opened the door. “Mr. Cole has asked you to wait in his study.” She gestured to the left.

  “Thanks.” I entered, hearing several voices and one in particular I would never forget. Adeline Taylor, the model slash actress Mr. Cole had been getting friendly with at the after party in Milan.

  My blood began to sizzle. Why the hell was she here? Had he asked her to live with him, too? Maybe we could all be a happy threesome, drowning in scandal together. How wonderful.

  I entered the study, just off the foyer, and stood in the middle of the room, inhaling the scent of his sweet, masculine cologne that permeated the entire space. Looking around, his study reminded me of his office downtown—clean, lots of awards on glass shelves behind a black cherry desk—but here he had stacks of magazines piled in one corner. We had the same “fashion junky” magazine-hoarding habit.

  “Miss Snow, I’m pleased to see you.” He wore a beautiful tuxedo and looked like the most handsome bastard on the planet.

  More of that scent, so delicious, so him, filled the room. I wanted to roll around in it.

  “Sorry to interrupt your dinner party,” I said.

  “We’re actually going to a fund-raiser. But, as always, I’m happy to see you.”

  So while I was falling apart, he was business as usual.

  He added, “Had I known you were coming, I would’ve invited you along.”

  I obviously wasn’t dressed in my formal wear—just black yoga pants and a white sports tank, in case I needed to run right after having this conversation.

  “I’m not staying, Mr. Cole. I just came to say that I’m accepting your offer.”

  “To live with me?”

  “No. I want out. I want that surgery,” I said.

  He jerked back his head, frowning.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I fumed.

  “May I ask why you changed your mind?”

  “Because the future that you’ve so kindly thrust onto my shoulders isn’t one I can live with.”

  “Lily, like I said, I never intended for you to get dragged into this.”

  Okay, I knew he wasn’t alone in the blame, but I had to say this. I had to confront him with his part in all this, because things were going to get very bumpy and I needed to know if I could really trust him.

  “You knew the book was coming,” I said.

  “Yes. But Nancy had already written it. I had no idea she’d approach you when she had all the ammo she needs to wage her little war.”

  I looked down at my feet, panting with livid anger. “Well, I guess you were wrong.”

  “Lily.” He approached and gripped my shoulders. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But I’m the injured party here. And so are you.”

  “That doesn’t fix anything.”

  “I know. And neither does having surgery.” Why was he changing the subject back to me?

  “That’s not your choice, Mr. Cole. And you’re not the one who will have to go through the rest of life being known as that fucking ugly woman Maxwell Cole hired just for his ‘therapy.’”

  “Fuck them. There’s nothing wrong with you, Lily.”

  I scoffed. “Says the man who can’t even look at my face.”

  He looked up at the ceiling. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, with a frustrated irate tone. “The problem is me. Me, Lily.” He looked at my face, trying his best to hold his gaze there. “I think by now, you would’ve come to realize that.”

  “We made a deal. I want the surgery. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He blew out a breath. “Fine. I’ll make the arrangements, but you can’t have the surgery until after the book comes out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because everyone will think you were trying to cover something up or, worse, that I made you do it for a twisted reason.”

  So he was afraid it would make him look bad. “So all you care about is yourself.”

  He shook his head. “I’m looking after you, Lily. I don’t want this to be any worse than it already is. Let the book come out. I’ll refute it with an army of public
ists, experts in the field, lawyers—I’m prepared for this, I promise. Then you can quietly go have your surgery. You can tell anyone who asks that you did it for your own reasons. Besides, you just started working at C.C. If you take time away now, it will look bad with the clients.”

  “That doesn’t matter, Max—I mean, Mr. Cole.”

  He grabbed my hand, and it was warm and soothing on my skin. “You can call me Max,” he said with a tone that made it sound like I was being ridiculous for maintaining the formality between us.

  I looked up at him, knowing he was right. I was being ridiculous. Using his last name wasn’t going to insulate me from getting hurt. Not anymore.

  I took a quick breath, crossing over that invisible threshold. “Max, I told you I want out. I can’t stay at C.C. and face the people who work there or the clients. I can’t do anything but get surgery, move back to California, and find a way to move on with my life quietly. After I’ve filed for bankruptcy because my student loans will eat me alive. But if I’m lucky, people will forget about me in a few years.”

  “So you’re giving up. You’re going to run away.”

  “You left me no choice, Max,” I spat his name. Truthfully, he should’ve been honest with me from the beginning. Knowing about that book would’ve changed everything.

  “I left you the choice to trust that I know what I’m doing and that I would not hurt you, Lily.”

  “I want the surgery. I’m doing it now. And I’m leaving C.C. This is what’s best for me. Not you, but me.”

  Frustrated, he shook his head. “No.”

  “What?”

  “No. I’m not letting you throw it all away, Lily.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to tell me how I should deal with this mess you’ve left me with?” How dare he.

  “Yes. Because you’re making a mistake. And you do have backbone. You can stand up to anything anyone throws at you, Lily. And you have a promising career ahead of you. This issue will blow over, people will move on, and they’ll see what I see in you after you give them a chance.”

  “What do you see in me?”

  He cupped my cheek and stared into my eyes. “A very intelligent, feisty, beautiful woman, whose only mistake was getting involved with me.” He bent his head and gave me a soft kiss.

  I blinked at him, completely shocked, my body going tingly and nearly limp from the feel of his lips. “Why did you do that?”

  There was a knock on the door. “Max, you in there?” It was Adeline. “We’re already running late and the limo is waiting.”

  “Your girlfriend is waiting,” I said bitterly.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, and she decided to surprise me by showing up here, instead of at the venue.”

  Frowning, I gave him a “whatever” shrug.

  He gave me a look, walked over to the door and opened it. Adeline instantly noted me standing there.

  “Who’s she?” Adeline asked.

  Of course, Adeline wouldn’t remember me.

  “Lily,” he replied. “A very close friend. And I’m afraid I won’t be joining you tonight because something important has come up.”

  Adeline’s jaw dropped. “You can’t make me go alone. What will the press say?”

  He shrugged. “Tell them that Maxwell Cole stood you up.”

  “Nobody stands me up.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Then tell them anything you like, but I’m afraid I’ve got to stay here with Lily to work out a few things.”

  “What could possibly be so important that you’d flake on me for…” Her disgusted gaze completed the sentence.

  “That’s between Lily and me, but if you really want to know,” he leaned down a little, “I’m hoping to convince her to be more than friends.”

  Adeline looked like she was about to implode with shock. “But…but…”

  “Let me walk you out,” he said.

  As for me, I stood there trying to make sense of his words. What the hell?

  He left the room, and I sat down in a leather armchair wedged into the corner near his bookshelf. Wait. This couldn’t be right.

  “Adeline is gone. And I sent my maid home.” Max stood in the doorway, still in that beautiful tux, his freshly shaved face looking like he’d never been more serious in his life.

  I stared at him. Speechless.

  “Say something,” he demanded.

  “I can’t.”

  “It’s fairly simple. It’s either yes or no.”

  “What about my…”

  “You have no idea how much I like you, Lily. Do you?”

  “No.”

  But…my face and my…well, face.

  “I knew the moment you walked into my office there was something different about you.”

  “So why didn’t you say anything sooner?” I asked.

  “I’d planned to, but you ran me out of your hotel room in Milan. What was I to think?”

  Made sense, I supposed. “But you and I…we can’t work.”

  He shook his head. “So you mean, simply because I have this issue I’m not in control of, you wouldn’t consider me.”

  “Don’t put it like that—it doesn’t make any sense.” It really didn’t. He was my boss. He had issues. There was a huge shit storm of scandal coming our way, too.

  He stepped closer, reached down to grab my hand, and yanked me up. “You honestly can’t see how hard I’m trying to fix myself? And did it ever occur to you that you’re the only reason it’s working this time?”

  He pulled my body against him, and as much as I wanted to push him away, I really couldn’t. He felt too…too…perfect. Every nerve ending lit up with pulses, especially between my legs.

  “Give me a few weeks, Lily. I’m close to breaking through this. I can feel it.”

  I wanted to. I did, but it felt like he was asking me to walk through a minefield with him, and frankly, my mind couldn’t accept he really wanted me.

  He went on, “I’ll work through this issue with the press, and the fact you’re my employee. The only thing you need to do is trust me and give me a chance. What do you have to lose?”

  “Getting hurt by you.”

  He dropped his hand. “So you believe Nancy Little? You really think I misled those women and then tossed them aside or that I’m responsible for her sister’s death.”

  I didn’t know what to believe, but it was time to answer that question. He needed to know how vulnerable I felt around him.

  “I kicked you out of my hotel room because I knew the moment you touched me, I wanted more. And I don’t want to fall in love with someone who can never love me back.”

  He nodded. “You really believe I couldn’t possibly be interested in you?”

  “Not a man like you with the world’s Adelines throwing themselves at your feet.”

  He shook his head. Then something snapped, and that side of Maxwell Cole, the side with a temper, showed itself.

  “Fucking hell, Lily. You really are fucked up.” He grabbed my wrist and yanked me along.

  “What are you doing?” I said, digging my heels into the blond hardwood floor, my tennis shoes squeaking as he dragged me.

  “I’m taking you upstairs.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to spend the rest of the weekend fucking some sense into you.” He whipped me over his shoulder, and I grunted with the impact. “Max, we’re not in the Stone Age.”

  He slapped my ass really hard.

  “Ouch!” What the hell?

  “Shut up. I have had enough of your crap,” he said.

  My crap?

  He got to the top of the stairs and turned the corner.

  “What crap? Put me down.”

  “Your constant undermining and self-deprecation. You’re hot, Lily. Really hot. Especially that mouth of yours. And your fucking little attitude especially gets my dick hard.” We got to his immaculate bedroom—at least, I think it was his with the bright white walls, light gray curtains, and minimal decorati
ons—where he slid me down and pushed me back. I landed on my ass on his king-sized bed.

  He undid his bow tie and went to work on his shirt. “But obviously your hang-up is getting in your way. So as one fucked-up person to another, I owe you a little therapy of your own.”

  He pulled off his shirt and tux jacket in one swoop, revealing the perfection of his chiseled torso—ripped pecs and abs with those black tribal tats on his upper arms.

  God, he’s breathtaking.

  Obviously, if I’d really been against what he was doing, I would’ve said so. But the fact was, having this man “fuck some sense” into me wasn’t something I wanted to turn away from. I wanted nothing more, and he probably knew it.

  He kicked off his shoes, slid down his pants and black boxer briefs and stood before me, naked, rippling, hard.

  “Now, tell me, Lily. Does this look like the cock of a man who doesn’t find you attractive?”

  I gulped. “No.”

  “Good.” He pushed me back on the soft light gray comforter, covering me with his body, and began kissing me. What I couldn’t understand was how two entirely conflicting sets of emotions occupied this one man’s body.

  He wanted me and yet he didn’t?

  Maybe it’s the same way you want him, but he terrifies the hell out of you.

  That thought was an epiphany.

  Remember when I said that sometimes there were two sides? Love and Lust. Rational and irrational. The two sides sometimes existed together, but in a state of tug-o-war until one side won or dominated. So just like I could want him, despite my fears, he could want me despite his own. His desire superseded his fear—no different than me.

  He pulled up my tank and slid it over my head, diving straight for my breasts with that sensual mouth of his. The tip of his tongue swirled over my nipple, the suction tugging those erotic pulses right out of me, making me moan. Meanwhile, his other hand massaged and cupped and caressed the other breast. “I’m going to fuck those beautiful breasts of yours one day, Lily. But not today.”

  He then ran his tongue over every inch of my breast until I was slick with his kisses. He then began trailing his mouth down my stomach until he reached the waistband of my yoga pants. He gave them a tug, and I lifted my hips, watching as his powerful arms peeled away the last remaining barrier between us.