Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
She laughs. “Why would I think that?”
I shift around and can’t get comfortable. The bedding is cozy. It’s my conscience that’s not.
“I was supposed to marry another man today,” I say, my voice growing louder. “And now I’m sitting in my ex-boyfriend’s house.” Not to mention in his clothes and bed, but details schmetails.
“You saved yourself from a bad situation and ran to a place you obviously feel safe. That’s supposed to make you a bad person?”
Yes. I feel safe here.
The flood of emotions that hit me nearly knock me over. I feel safe here—the first place I’ve felt safe in years.
“Sure, you could’ve done it differently,” she says. “But would it have made you a better person to have gone through with it then publicly divorced later? Is your mental health worth having the world think you’re a good person?”
“No.”
“Exactly.”
“And if you feel too guilty, let me remind you that Tom has put you in some prickly situations, too. He asked you to be his wife at the only concert of yours that he’s ever attended in the lead-up to his biggest blockbuster of all time—the one that they were pulling no punches to market.”
What a nightmare. There was no conversation after his proposal, no chance to get my bearings. We were being watched by twenty thousand people and endless cameras. All I could do was play the part and say yes.
“He could’ve chosen another week to have those pictures of him leaked—the term used loosely because you know damn good and well that he was behind that. Instead, he chose the week you were on the cover of Timeless magazine so he could steal your moment. He hated that you were chosen as Prettiest Person in the World and got more attention than he did.”
I squeeze my eyes shut … because down deep, I know she’s right.
“He could’ve supported your career just like you supported his,” she says. “And please don’t forget the rumors about Tom in Paris six months ago.”
Multiple women. A penthouse. Pictures that he swears were doctored were splashed across covers of all the rag magazines.
My jaw sets.
And my father made excuses for him. Looking back, I numbed myself to the situation—dove harder into work and chose not to pay attention. Survival at its very best. But the true betrayal from the Paris situation wasn’t from Tom. It was from my dad.
How could Dad continue to push me to marry Tom? Why did he get me to try to smooth over Tom’s abhorrent behavior? Why didn’t he see the red flags waving in the sky or, if he did—and I think he did—why did he blow them off?
“You’re right,” I say. “I did what I had to do.”
“That’s my girl.”
I laugh. “I guess I need to call Anjelica. My PR is through my label, and I’m sure she has questions.”
“Fine. But don’t think this conversation about Farrier Boy is over.” She laughs, too. “In all seriousness, do you need anything? Want anything? What can I do to support you?”
My heart warms. “Just having you to call is the best thing in the world.”
“I am pretty special, aren’t I?” She laughs again. “Okay. Call Anjelica. Can I call you on this number if I need you?”
“Um, you know what? I don’t know how long I’ll be here. So just let me figure out a few things, and then I’ll call you back with details.”
“Okay. I have your stuff from the hotel and your phone, by the way. Troy found it and gave it to me.” She sighs blissfully. “My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon. If you decide you want this stuff, please let me know.”
“I might. I just need to figure out how to get it. I’m sure you’re being watched.”
“Yeah. Probably. Hell, I might give them something to see if they want to be assholes.”
I giggle. “Okay. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
I end the call, then dial Anjelica’s number before I chicken out.
Every ring ups my anxiety. By the third one, I’m not sure she’ll answer. I’m mentally reviewing what my voice message will say when she answers breathlessly.
“Anjelica Grace,” she says.
“Hey. It’s Laina.”
Her exhale could move a mountain. “My God, girl. You’re making me work for my money today, aren’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. As your agent and your friend, you made the right choice today. I was envisioning a lifetime of press releases to save your skin if you went through with the marriage.”
“Really?”
She laughs dryly. “Moving on, we’ve been holding off on a statement and hoping you’d call. It’s in your email.”
I don’t have a computer. “Can you read it to me?”
She quickly goes through the statement that doesn’t say anything but says everything at the same time.
“Love it. Use it. What else?” I ask.
“We are just doing a little damage control. Nothing for you to worry about. All I need from you is to keep your head down for a little while. This will all blow over, but we need to give it some time to cool off. Hopefully, Tom doesn’t want to drag it out and keep his name in the headlines. Do you have a place you can stay?”