Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“Speaking of old times, you know what I notice?” I ask.
“What?” she asks, leaning in.
“You’re nothing like the wide-eyed, bright girl I grew up with. You left that behind for Hollywood, and the money and fame and power changed you. The girl I grew up with was never this greedy. Never this fucked in the head.”
“Greedy? Excuse me?” She sets her drink down and flings her hands to her sides. “I’m ten seconds from slapping you again. How dare you imply this is all about money. I poured my heart out!”
Oh, I dare, all right.
Undaunted, I watch her pout, weathering her tirade.
“I’ve always been here for you. I’m the only woman who ever knew exactly what you are and I still accepted you. That little fresh-faced suburbanite you had at the gala? She was crushed when she realized you’d already wronged another woman enough to get smacked in public. You think she’d stick around if she knew half your shit? I flew into town as soon as I heard about your grandma’s heart last year. You wouldn’t even see me. I don’t know how you can accuse me of being greedy, when I’m the one who’s always been here for you—the real you, Nicholas Brandt.”
“You’re right. You came as soon as you heard about Grandma, and I told you then I didn’t want your sympathy. Still don’t need it. So buzz off.” I open my wallet, pull out a hundred-dollar-bill, and leave it under my glass. It should be more than enough to cover the drinks.
I take a step away and stop. There’s still one thing to say.
“Carmen, I’m sorry if you’re still upset about the breakup, but I doubt it’s that simple. No chase is ever worth a run-in with The Chicago Tea. Osprey knows about the video we never should’ve made, and anything you give him just spurs nasty rumors. It’s making it worse for both of us. It’s high past time to let it fucking blow over.”
Carmen gives me the same soft smile she always used just before we fucked, and she stands.
Shit.
What did I say to encourage her?
She presses her face against my ear, those red lips from hell trying to drag me into the abyss. “That was such an amazing night, wasn’t it? That’s why I kept a copy. Some memories are impossible to let go of.”
What the fuck?
So there is another copy of that mistake floating around? I hate hearing it confirmed.
Disgusted, I push her away. She almost topples over. I catch her before she falls—I’m not a complete asshole—and let go again as soon as I know she’s steady.
Her face falls. Her eyes narrow.
“Nicholas, you need to understand one thing. I’m never giving up what we had. I’m the only woman who’s ever been able to keep up with you and your wild ways. Sooner or later, whenever you’re off this self-righteous kick, you’ll come to your senses. For your sake, I hope it’s before a better man comes along.”
I don’t even look back as I stalk away, knowing it was a mistake to come here.
Her whacked obsession could ruin both of us. The sex tape is a ticking time bomb for her career, too.
I wish she’d get that through her head.
I just wish she’d wise up, and let me fucking go.
* * *
The nanny I hired for Millie seems nice enough and comes with impeccable references.
Still, there’s no denying little Millie has been through a whirlwind the last few days. I can’t help wondering how it’s going with Reese out driving.
I open the door to the makeshift office playroom to check on the kid. She’s sitting at the bottom of her slide, playing a game on her tablet.
Tiffany stands up instantly from the chair she was sitting on while watching the girl.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Brandt. Millie finished her artwork early and earned herself some game time.” She points to the wall where there’s a drawing of a stick figure with a giant bubblehead and striped tie taped up.
Millie jumps up when she sees me, sending the iPad flying.
“Good thing I bought a bumper cover for that thing,” I say.
Tiffany giggles.
“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t have let her hold it if you hadn’t. I know her type.” She bends at her knees so she’s at eye level with the kid. “Don’t I, Millie?”
“Nick, it’s you!” Millie screams, running for the wall and ignoring her nanny.
“In the flesh,” I say.
“No. Here.” She hits the brakes just before colliding with the wall and points to her picture.
Thank God. For a minute, I thought she’d ram it headfirst, and then Reese would crucify me.
“See? It’s you!” Millie jumps up and down, pointing excitedly.
“Oh, that? Well. You’ve interpreted my likeness like a master. I think you’d impress my sister-in-law, and she’s a huge art snob,” I say with a wink, making Tiffany snicker. “Thank you, Millie. I’ll hang it up in my office.”