Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
One of the perks of being a professional blogger andvlogger with a huge online social media presence: she received packages from companies looking for her to pimp their goods. She also relied on her personal favorite products and looks, for which she did online tutorials. It’d begun as a cool hobby, but she’d somehow turned it into a career, and she loved it. She supported herself, supplemented by a trust fund courtesy of her maternal grandparents. She was lucky and she knew it. She never took her life for granted.
The irony of her online persona, when compared to her real-life one, never failed to amuse her. She was far from the extrovert she portrayed herself to be. When she was nine, she’d experienced her first panic attack after the scandal had broken about her father’s second family. The paparazzi had wanted more information about her family, and they hadn’t been above targeting a child to do it. She still had nightmares about the flashing camera lights and the crushing hordes of people coming at her. That incident and the ensuing ones had caused her to withdraw, preferring the comfort of friends and family to large crowds and intrusive strangers.
With those closest to her, she was comfortable and outgoing. To Avery, vlogging was still the equivalent of being behind the scenes, and she had no problem portraying that side of herself on camera. She provided her viewers with advice and how-to instructions on wearing the newest fashions and current makeup styles. She was twenty-five and played to her age group and younger, and her perky persona worked, making her a success. As a result, her fans looked at her as their friend, someone to whom they could relate.
Her brother Ian might be president of the Miami Thunder football team and her father the owner of a renowned hotel chain, but Avery never flaunted her family name or wealth. She’d had enough public scrutiny to last her a lifetime, and she never sought attention outside her small channel on the Internet.
A familiar ding alerted her to incoming e-mails, and she clicked back to her mail program. An e-mail notice from a local gossip blog caught her eye, and she read the subject.
Reports of Tangled Royal breakup confirmed.
Avery bit down on her lower lip, not surprised by the mention of the band but always dismayed by the accompanying painful twist of her stomach.
Grey Kingston, Tangled Royal’s lead male singer and guitarist, had been Avery’s high school boyfriend and first love. And up until five months ago, she hadn’t heard from him in seven years. Then one day, a letter had arrived from Grey, telling her he was leaving her concert tickets and backstage passes. He’d ended with, Love to see you again. G.
After a lot of consideration, because Avery always thought things through, she’d gathered her courage, invited her sister, Olivia, and decided to attend. Memories of that night still haunted her.
She wasn’t naïve or stupid. She understood the magnitude of the kind of life a rock star like Grey Kingston led. Even if she hadn’t known, she’d been force-fed pictures and snippets of information over the years by the same online sites she read to keep her blog current. And she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit to setting a Google Alert to Tangled Royal and buying their albums and listening to them in secret, where her family and friends wouldn’t know or judge her. But the on-screen photos and gossip columns had nothing on what she’d seen with her own eyes.
She’d walked into the room to find a half-naked, bleached blonde wrapped around Grey like a second skin. The other female fans in the room had been dressed equally skanky, and they’d surrounded the band members, serving to remind Avery of how different she and Grey’s lifestyles were. And how they each had always wanted opposite things.
She’d left the VIP room before she and Grey could do much more than look into each other’s eyes. A long, history-filled stare that threatened all the defenses she’d built up against him after he’d left town . . . and left her behind. One look at the handsome face she used to love had hit her hard, and she’d known then and there that she would need to protect herself. And she was right.
Grey hadn’t given up. Every time she posted something meaningful on her blog, like a hot new handbag or a delicious-smelling perfume she’d sampled and adored, the same product ended up being sent to her doorstep, gift-wrapped beautifully, with a short card attached.
I’m sorry —G
Give me another chance —G
Can’t wait to see you —G
Missed you all these years —G
Yeah, that last one got to her most. Because she’d missed him too.
Then, as routinely as the presents had arrived, they’d stopped. He had sent a note telling her he’d call when he was back in town, but that had been weeks ago, and she’d stopped holding her breath. No doubt he’d decided she wasn’t worth the effort, not when he had all those easy conquests and female groupies at his disposal.