Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
I don’t look back to see his reaction, or to even see the satisfying mess of broken glass. Maybe he’ll slice up his bare feet on it as he escorts his orgy members out the door.
Jerking my Range Rover door open I’m pissed I didn’t just have my driver bring me, but I didn’t want to look like I needed a chauffeur, what a joke. He thinks I’m a Diva already. Jesus, I need to calm myself before I try and navigate this freakin tank home.
I look down at my hands that are shaking, my stomach is in knots and my breath is coming in short, fast pants.
Screw it, I need to get out of here. I can feel him, and Ammo’s not an employee I can pretend like all of this did not just happen with him.
“Start the car, Courtney,” I whisper as I feel sweat on my forehead and neck. “Oh God, just start it.” My finger is shaking so bad, I look up and over at the front door. Thankfully he’s not there.
What is wrong with me? It’s not like he’s going to jump out and chain me to his bed. I puff out air as I start the vehicle, peeling out as I barely miss a massive, black-lacquered potted plant.
“Absolute nightmare.” I whisper.
Just get home.
I’ll have Rachel handle this since I hate Malcolm right now. Wow, this really couldn’t have gone worse. Not only do I not have a producer for my next album, but I’m pretty positive this epic disaster is going to make the news.
I shake my head, trying to focus on the road, but all I see is him, laughing, his crystal blue eyes and chiseled chin just staring at me.
“Clit girl…” I groan, shaking my head. Fantastic, I guess he thinks I’ve never had great sex. Why would Malcolm let him listen to that song? Of all the songs I have demos of, why that one?
The loud noise of my dashboard alerts me that Gina is calling, and it makes me instantly press decline.
I can’t talk now; I need to get ahold of myself before I crash into a stop sign.
“Asshole,” I scream as my hands tighten painfully on the steering wheel.
Screw Ammo. Malcolm. Rachel. Fucking Johnny, Roxy, even Pat…
In that order.
I don’t need them.
I don’t need anybody.
COURTNEY
“We can’t tell her. She needs to focus on work.” Malcolm’s voice comes in loud and clear as I enter through the back of my house. I’ve reached my limit, I’m about to unleash years of pain and anger on him as I toss my bag on the large gold antique table. Then speed walk toward my kitchen, absently thinking how different my house is compared to Ammo’s.
Night and day.
Just like both of us.
Ha. That should have been a warning, not that his home wasn’t impressive. For a modern design, it did have a sense of warmth and was beautiful with the giant glass walls. It does look like him, magnificent on the outside, while the inside is filled with arrogance and shiny baubles—all to distract the beholder from the real truths.
“I disagree, and I’m her PR woman, she needs to know.” Rachel’s voice sounds as if she’s bored. God, she really is a bitch…whatever, this is perfect, I can tell both of them off. Clearly they’ve forgotten that I’m in charge.
“What? Tell me what?” I snap, marching in as Malcolm turns, his freckles more pronounced, looking completely guilty.
“The hell are you doing back already?” he growls, running a hand through his hair… yeah, he’s hiding something.
“I’ll tell you what the hell I’m doing.” Bracing my hands on my island so I can look at them, “I’m two seconds away from firing both of you. What were you thinking sending me over to that monster’s place?” I scream, my voice starting to crack because I’m choking back tears again.
“What happened?” His voice gentles. I hate that, I’d rather him be bossy, not the fierce daddy bear ready to go to battle for his cub.
Damn it. I always falter when he gets like this, so I turn on Rachel. Of course, she just arches a perfectly waxed brow, her red lips plastered in a smile. Does she even have a pulse? How is it that she never seems to falter? Never gets frazzled, or worried. In fact, the worse the situation is, the more Rachel seems to enjoy herself.
“I have been trying to get ahold of you.” I take a deep inhale.
“Why do you think I’m here?” she states.
“Well, did Malcolm tell you about Pat?” I motion to Malcolm.
“Yes.” She reaches for her Chanel purse. “It was necessary. We had to get the vultures off you and focused more on the band.” Rachel brings out her pack of Marlboro menthols and lights up.
I blink at her. “Am I losing my fucking mind? Am I missing something? Because you think that telling the world that the band is breaking up makes everyone think I’m upset and being vindictive because Roxy is pregnant. I look like the bad guy in this scenario,” I yell, slapping my hand on the marble counter, not even caring that the entire limb is now numb.