Also by Nicole French
Angelic Series
Angelic Attraction
Angelic Duplicity
Angelic Vengeance
Angelic Ever After
Angelic Series: Books 1-4 Boxset
Angelic Attraction
Angelic Series ~ Book 1
By Nicole French
French Publishing ©
“This book is entirely fictitious. The names, characters, places and events are solely a product of the author’s imagination and are for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual places or businesses is entirely coincidental”
Copyright © Nicole French 2014
Published By French Publishing
All rights reserved. No part of this publication in part or in full may be copied, reproduced, transmitted in any form including electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or other forms without the express written permission from the author. Any trademarks used by the author are used for the enhancement of the story and there is no association or affiliation. No opinions are given or should be construed in any way and as such should not be taken as advice.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Prologue
I stagger into the small bathroom and stare in the mirror at the person looking back at me—a far cry from the one that left the apartment a few short hours ago. Mascara is smudged and running down onto my cheekbones, lipstick has been left on the face of some Neanderthal back at the club and my eyes are glazed with vodka. The blonde hair that was so neatly arranged is now disheveled and the sink is beckoning for me to do my usual ritual of losing the evening’s alcohol to it.
I promised myself I wouldn’t do this again—I made that same promise every Friday and Saturday. But the pain of being dumped by Adam takes over somewhere around the third or fourth Vodka. What’s wrong with me? She’s mousy, plain, quiet and frumpy and yet he preferred her to me. I’m a tall, slim, blonde haired blue eyed stunner and yet here I am; drunk and once more sleeping alone. Every weekend is the same. Looking for love but too scared to find it. Hitting on guys that I really shouldn’t even grant so much as a ‘hello’ to because they’re easy and desperate, keeping the chances of rejection low. Allowing them to paw over me in between dancing my heart out, till I become nothing more than a sweaty mess—yet always leaving alone. Making an excuse and disappearing for fear of being cornered into sex with the creatures.
My self esteem is on the floor, bleeding like a wounded animal that should really be put out of its misery. I gave everything I had to that relationship and now it’s gone leaving me pushing the self destruct button every weekend in an attempt to feel desirable again. But every weekend losing a little bit more of me; as the disgust, annoyance and self loathing grows. I want to feel beautiful again. I want to be the Angel that my parents named me; to live a clean life full of self worth and respect.
The sink finally wins its battle and I heave, expelling the night’s excess of alcohol. My stomach muscles pull so hard it hurts and I gasp for air. God I hate being sick. Every time it happens I swear I’ll never do it again. I swore that last week and the week before that but I’m like a hamster on a wheel—never getting off, just going around and around; week after week. I run the cold water to flush away the evidence and scoop some into my mouth to wash away the sour taste. I look even worse now as my eyes are streaming and my mascara has run so much I look like a character from some horror movie. ‘Oh fuck it. Who cares anyway?’—I stagger out of the bathroom to my bedroom and aim for the bed as it spins around the room, crashing onto it still dressed.
I enter sleep—if you can call it that. Too much alcohol makes it more like a half state; not asleep and yet not awake. I’m not conscious enough to get up and get a glass of water to quench my raging thirst and yet it nags at me, constantly preventing me from entering the deep and restful sleep I so desperately need. Strange and disturbing images and dreams flick wildly through my mind and Adam, with his new woman, are usually in there somewhere—laughing or looking at me in disgust. Six months ago I was together. I was fresh, sober and ladylike—I was that Texan raised Angel that won beauty pageants and never drank to excess. I was in love with a man whom I thought loved me. Living the LA dream and following a successful and budding career as a young designer at Fritz House—working as one of Marlene Devereaux’s protégés. Frequenting cocktail bars and fine restaurants in the evenings or having romantic nights in with Adam. That’s the true me. That’s where I need to get back to; not this. I’ve become nothing more than an alley cat at the weekends, trawling bars and seedy clubs in search of another Adam—but one that will treat me well and not screw around.
Chapter One
Daylight bursts onto my face and I writhe to block it like some kind of vampire that will be destroyed by its touch. My flat mate—Jody—has barged in and flung open the curtains. I groan and complain, ‘why can’t she just leave me to die quietly.’
“Wakey wakey sleepy head” she sits on the edge of my bed and strokes my hair as my face is buried into the pillow.
“Urgh....what time is it?” I manage to mutter a disgruntled reply.
“It’s 10.30. I’ve brought you a coffee—you look like you need it.” She pauses for a moment waiting for some verbal communication to be returned—but it isn’t. “We heard you come in last night Angel; it didn’t sound too good.” ‘We? Did she just say we?’ My curiosity peaked and I sat up to look at her.
“What do you mean—we?” I quiz her. She never usually brings anyone back here. If she meets a lover then she usually stays out.
“I had company last night” she replies with a dirty smile.
“Oh no!” I reply with equal shares of horror and embarrassment. “Did you hear?”
“Uh huh. Don’t worry honey—we were pretty out of it ourselves and we were far too busy with other things to take too much notice” A look of debauchery came over her and I knew that she had been in her room with a lover. Jody always has a lover. She isn’t a girl that is meant to be single or celibate and she never turns down the offer of the physical. She moves in very arty circles being in that profession and she is very sexually liberated. She is quite a stocky build and only stands just shy of five feet two which makes her look like a porcelain doll when she is on one her ‘glam’ nights out. Her dark full hair stops just past her shoulders and cradles a perfect face with high cheek bones, tiger-like almond shaped eyes, perfect lips and dazzling white straight teeth. The kind of mouth red lipstick was made for. She is every type of girl rolled into one beautiful package.
I envy her. She can fall in love at the drop of a hat but she can walk away just as easily too—always being the one who calls it a day. Sure, she’d mope a bit when a love affair ended but that usually meant a night in front of the TV with a tub of Ben & Jerry’s. She never becomes the wreck that I’ve become—she is too emotionally together for that to happen. The next weekend she just dusts herself off and gets back out there attracting another handsome hunk. I wish I knew her secret. I fall too deeply and get way too hurt.
“Come on Angel, get yourself up and to the kitchen—there’s a bacon sandwich with your name on it. Just the ticket for soaking up vodka” finishing the sentence with a cheeky wink which told me it was going to be more of a therapy session than breakfast.
With a bit of effort I manage to get myself vertical and wrestle on an old University sweat top b
efore staggering to the kitchen and slumping down on a chair. Jody was busily multi-tasking as usual, frying bacon, checking the bread didn’t burn and giving the flowers in the window box some water. I sat and silently watched her as she moved around our quaint little kitchen. I loved to watch her. She was a chameleon that could morph effortlessly between glamour girl and rock chick to suit her mood. Every degree of girl rolled into one package. She’s bubbly, witty, intelligent and guaranteed to turn heads with the electricity she brings to any room she enters.
“Right, there you go honey. Dig into that—bacon makes everything better.”
There was a comfortable pause as we both slammed into our breakfasts, filling the starving void of our stomachs which had been made worse from drinking, dancing and love making the night before. Despite being good friends we didn’t often go out socializing together that much. I usually went out with Kate, my fellow designer from work and a few of the office girls. Dancing was Kate’s therapy too—a release from the pressures of working for Marlene that affected her nerves. The other girls weren’t a mess like me though. They didn’t end the evenings with a game of tonsil hockey with the nearest thing resembling a man. They were usually playing guardians to me—making sure I got in a cab safely and warding off determined, testosterone fuelled, would-be lovers.
“I hate seeing you like this Angel” Jody begins. I knew I was in trouble as she only ever called me Angel when she was being serious. “Have you seen yourself yet? Your make-up’s all down your face—you didn’t even clean your teeth last night” she continues her lecture.
“Yes mom” I reply defiantly. She was right. Jody was always right but all the same I didn’t like hearing it—the truth has a sharp sting. She flashed a look at me and I put my sassiness back in its box.
“I know you don’t like hearing it Angel but living this way is doing you no good. If you carry on it will start to affect your work. Besides—why do you give Adam the satisfaction? You’re not making him jealous when you’re grappling around with guys; you’re just tickling his ego. He’s thinking that he must be so goddamn hot no girl can live without him. Is that what you want?” I’d never thought of it like that before. I guess I was trying to make him think that I am desirable and regret leaving me for Miss Frump, but now Jody’s thrown that at me I’m realizing that I’m giving him power. My pride has been hurt and yet oddly, if I’m brutally honest, I’m way angrier with myself. Adam made me realize what I’d had with Wade. I guess you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. I sit and stare at her as I’m taking it all in. My eyes start to prickle with tears as I’m searching my mind for a way forward to get me out of this vicious circle I’ve fallen into. Drinking excessively always makes me depressed and weepy.
Adam was a re-bound; and a destructive one at that. I left my first love—Wade—back in Texas to follow my dream of being a designer in LA. The parting was bitter and he took it hard; we both did. I missed him so much when I left two years ago so when Adam came along I threw all of my energies into the relationship to fill the void that losing Wade had left me with. I guess I thought every guy would love me like Wade had done—how wrong could I have been?
The thing I regretted most was the sex. If there was anything at all I could take back, that would be it. Heck, I even lost my virginity to Adam. It should have been with Wade—at least it would have been special. Instead, I rushed into bed with Adam. I couldn’t wait to get rid of it like it was some social disease that needed purging.
“Right. Take these Tylenol with your coffee and get in the shower. You’re not lolling around here all day. We’re going to have a little window shop on Rodeo Drive and some lunch in one of the restaurants. I want to be seen with Angel Nichols—young fashion designer extraordinaire—not the creature from the swamp” she snorts with a humorous tone to her voice. How could I refuse? She bundles me off to the bathroom.
“Don’t be long” she sings through the closed door. I wander over to the mirror. ‘Oh my God—I’m a complete horror’ my mind continues the lecture. I take a deep breath and summons up my Texan spirit. “Let’s get this show on the road” I tell myself as I examine the mess. The heat of the shower helps to get my blood rushing around again and works with the Tylenol to clear the pounding headache. The bacon sandwich doing a good job of mopping up anything left in my system and calming my poor wrenched stomach. Soon I’m ready. Looking as good as new albeit a little on the tired side.
“Rodeo Drive here we come” Jody cries as we quickly check our bags to make sure we have everything we need before heading out of the apartment and to her car. Jody loves her car. It’s an old Mercedes with a private plate to disguise its age. She keeps it immaculate—we call it her surrogate child. She flicks the stereo on and Dolly Parton floods the car as we cruise up the 405 towards Hollywood. “Good old Dolly” she says “Love her to bits”
The traffic’s heavy as usual but Dolly helps to keep our frustration levels down as we both sing ‘Working 9 to 5’ at top volume. “You know Angel it’s lunchtime already. Shall we eat first before we hit the shops—I’m famished?” I’m quite glad she suggested eating first as I’m feeling so empty from last night’s full body cleansing over the sink. Plus, I didn’t finish much of the bacon sandwich before I was bundled into the bathroom go get ready.
“That sounds an excellent idea. Let’s park up and find a nice restaurant—one where we can sit outside. Then we can people watch while we eat” I reply. People watching is one of our favorite past times, especially when we hit this part of town. The weird and wonderful meets with the chic and classic. We’ve been known to take a couple of hours over lunch when we get really into it. She parks the car and we head off in the direction of Rodeo Drive. There’s a lovely restaurant that we’ve been to a few times not far away and we decide to opt for there.
“Quick—there’s a table free outside. Let’s grab it.” Jody says with excitement and urgency, as she quickens up her pace. The handsome Italian looking waiter comes over to greet us, delivering a dazzling smile and a charm to match.
“Afternoon ladies” he says with a slight oiliness that suggests that he wouldn’t need much encouragement if we fancied a full on sex romp for dessert. We both pick up on his sexual vibes and shoot each other a look and a smirk. We flirt with him as we order—more in fun than anything serious and he strides off back into the restaurant like he’s a God amongst women.
Jody and I had become very good friends since I moved in with her a year ago. I needed a place to live as my landlord was the king of creeps and was threatening to raise the rent after I refused his advances. When I saw Jody’s ad for a flat mate on the notice board at work I answered it and we clicked straight away. It was like we’d known each other in a past life or something. Whilst she was very different from me she was my rock when Adam dumped me for Miss Frump. I know she hates to see what I have become and desperately wants me to calm down.
“Are you going out again tonight then?” she asks.
“I haven’t thought about it to be honest Jody” I reply. I wasn’t going to burn my bridges and say ‘no’. I really didn’t like hanging around the apartment in the evenings while everyone else was out there having fun. Besides, Mr.Right may be out and it would be my luck to miss him for some crappy TV show.
“Look, I know you hate staying in when it’s the weekend. I’ve got a couple of VIP tickets to La Boheme tonight. I was going to take lover boy from last night but I’d rather take you” she says making a flattering offer I can hardly refuse. ‘La Boheme?—I’ve heard about that place. It’s supposed to be very exclusive and very risqué; filled with LA’s finest artists and creative types that get up to all sorts stuff when the doors are closed.’
“Hmm, I’m not sure Jody. I’m not sure if La Boheme is really my kind of thing—isn’t it a bit of a sex club?” I lower my voice to a whisper and look awkward.
“Oh come on. For heaven’s sake you’re a big girl now. At least if you stick your tongue down some guy’s thr
oat he’ll be a bit higher up the food chain than the ones you’ve been getting off with lately” she says with a giggle.
“I don’t plan on sticking my tongue down anyone’s throat actually” I say in a prim tone “I’ve decided that those days are gone and I’m going to start acting like a lady again.” There’s a pause and a silence before we both look at each other and burst out laughing.
“Oh it’s so good to see you laugh Angel. Will you come tonight—please? You won’t get pounced on or anything like that and Pierre will be there too.” Pierre is one of Jody’s best gay friends. He has a hilarious turn of phrase that would always cheer me up. Everyone loves Pierre.
“Okay then, you’ve talked me into it.....” I hardly finish my sentence when I spot a stunning young man walking confidently up the sidewalk wearing a crisp white linen shirt over blue jeans. He oozes success, money and status with his thick dark blonde hair flopping slightly onto his forehead above big soft green eyes contrasting against a golden tan. Carrying his cell phone in one hand and a bag from an expensive boutique in the other.
Jody doesn’t see him as he is walking up behind her but I am facing directly to him—watching him stroll closer. He checks his watch and then looks up; straight at me. Our eyes lock and he stops dead in his tracks. Jody must have noticed my mouth had dropped open and turns around to see what has mesmerized me. She turns back quickly and picks up a menu—burying her face into it like she wants to escape.
“Hi” he says looking straight at me as he gets level to our table.
“H—Hi” I reply feebly, totally awestruck at this gorgeous man standing right in front of me. It was like I’d been hit by lightening. He looks over at Jody who is busily trying to ignore him which I find very out of character and strange. I kick her under the table to push her to speak to him and not be rude.
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