“Stop, no. Again. I said I’d save you in the heat of the moment.”
He bends down, kissing the top of my head. I mentally sigh. Then realize I vocally sigh, when I hear Chase’s chuckle.
“I love your sighs. So innocent behind your badass persona.”
I give him my mean stare down, but that face. That smile. Those eyes. They melt me. We hear the elevator ding, letting us know we’ve made it to the ground floor.
“Letting this sexy hand go is the hardest thing I do every morning.” He lifts my hand and kisses the top of my skin.
I can’t help but smile. I’m in love. And I admitted it. I should probably pull my book off the shelves because I can’t relate to any of this love broken babble anymore. Chase Green saved me.
“Thank you,” I say, not really sure what it means. But it needed to be said.
He leans forward, covering my mouth with his. “I love you, Katie Beller.”
Trying to fight these new happy emotions that have taken over my body, I inhale a breath for strength and reply, “I love you too, Chase Green.”
The opening doors break up our moment and it’s like slow motion as our hands break away. Back to the author and model, business as usual. The only thing that doesn’t change are the big smiles we both carry.
Chase walks as close to me as he can, saying it’s a substitute for not being able to hold my hand. I blush like a damn school kid, because I’m sure we look like idiots.
Before turning the corner, we see Kristen hustling over to us.
“Shit, we’re not late, are we?”
Chase looks down at his watch. “Right on time actually.”
“Charlie! There you are. I’ve been calling your room.” Kristen halts right in front of us and stops to catch her breath.
“Yeah, sorry, I was… in the gym all morning.”
“Well, your agent has been in an uproar looking for you. She said she’s been trying to contact you for days with no answer.”
I look at Chase, and he’s gone stone-still.
“What do you mean looking for me?” His usual casual tone is off.
“She paged me first thing this morning. She’s in the hotel.”
It’s then I watch his face pale.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Mr. Bates, she’s very upset. You assured me all the paperwork was taken care of. She’s claiming she didn’t sign off on this part of the signing.”
Chase isn’t moving or responding.
“Chase, what’s going on?” I’m staring at him, but he’s just standing there in a blank fog.
“Mr. Bates—”
“There you are! Babe, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
We all turn to see a beautiful blonde. Legs for hours, curves in all the right places approaching us. I begin to feel unsure of what’s about to happen.
Chase quickly turns to me. “You said you trust me. Please just trust me right now, okay?”
“What? What do you—”
I’m cut off when the woman jumps into Chase’s arms.
What. The. Fuck.
“Babe is your phone turned off?”
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
I take a step away from Chase. He senses my withdrawal. He drops the woman and turns to me, but his attention is taken away by this woman.
“Rebecca. What are you doing here?”
He knows her.
Of course he does. It’s his agent.
People call people babes all the time in California.
“I missed you. I wanted to surprise you.”
Agents shouldn’t miss their clients.
Fuck.
My stomach starts to turn.
Kristen grabs my arm. “Uh, Bailey, we need to get you to your table.”
I should probably leave, but as they say, it’s like watching a train wreck, unable to pull away. But this train wreck is my life, and I have a sick feeling soon to be my wrecked heart. I take a shaky step forward to address his agent.
“Excuse me. Hi, I’m Bailey. Author. You must be Charlie’s agent?”
Please be his agent.
“Yeah, his PR agent, but most importantly, his girlfriend,” she replies with beaming confidence.
There’s no way to hide the gasp as her words fill the air. His girlfriend. She said the one thing I begged not to hear. He couldn’t have lied to me and fed me bullshit just to end up playing me in the end.
I’m in shock.
I can’t stop staring at her as she smiles cheerfully back at me.
“Katie.” Chase tries to grab my hand, but I slap him off me.
“Okay then.” I begin blinking away the tears that I am shamefully about to shed. “Excuse me,” I choke out to our audience.
Once my legs start to work again, I run to the bathroom. I hear my name being called, but the door shuts behind me. As soon as I’m in the stall, I lean forward and throw up. Once, twice, a third time, before my stomach stops convulsing. I reach up, trying to grab for my ears that won’t stop ringing, but my stomach convulses again, throwing up for a fourth time.
“Katie, you all right?” I hear Kristen, her voice etched with worry.
“Fine.” I grab for some toilet paper, dabbing at my mouth, using the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes.
“Are you sure? What just happened out there didn’t look fine.”
God, her acknowledging it means this isn’t a bad fucking dream. Girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. My stomach threatens to heave again.
“Honey, what’s going on? I thought you weren’t getting involved with Charlie Bates.”
And God, I wished I never did. Every single moment we’ve ever shared flashes through my mind, the pain crushing at my skull. The lies. His lies. I love you, Katie Beller. I grab at my head, closing my eyes.
“Katie, are you going to talk to me?” I hear her voice closer, the gentle knock on the stall door.
“Seriously, it was nothing,” I reply, my voice choked. I hold my breath, trying to keep in the ball of emotions raging inside my throat wanting to release.
“Katie, I’m not the bad guy here. Talk to me.”
No, the bad guy is standing outside this bathroom. Next to his girlfriend. A struggled gasp leaves my mouth and I lose the fight and the tears come in waves. I cry, hunched forward, holding my stomach.
I hear Kristen making a call. “Yeah, I need security to the east side of the hotel. We need to clear the hallway. Yes, of everybody. No one stays. That’s right. I pay enough money to this hotel. That’s right. Thank you. I want a call when it’s clear. Thank you.”
She knocks again. “Honey, let me in.”
I just want her to go away. I refuse to let anyone, even my best friend see me broken. So ashamed at what a fool I have become.
“Oh, fuck it,” she says and without opening the door, Kristen starts crawling under the stall door.
“Oh God, that’s disgusting, Kristen,” I groan, wiping at my soaked face.
“Yeah, well, the things you do for friendship.”
I move over, allowing her to slide all the way underneath. She finally stands and grabs for me. I hug her back and lose to another round of emotional sobs.
Everyone lies. It’s almost human nature. How much you drank last night, the amount of sex partners you’ve had, whether it be more or less. How great your life is, great job, bad job, it can almost be a sickness for some.
I never found a liking for liars. It wasn’t something I had to do in my life. I was who I was. I didn’t have to make up a story to make myself look cooler or more accepted. I guess that may also be why I’m me. Alone. Simple. Working at a bar, living off of others’ façade lives.
Kristen had the entire east wing of the hotel cleared out to allow me to exit the bathroom with my dignity. Chase was nowhere to be found, nor was his girlfriend. Kristen knew it before I even said it. I wasn’t staying a second longer on the tour. I couldn’t. She offered to pack up my room and go
t me quickly into a cab to the airport. She suggested I stay and rip him a new one, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t look him in the eyes after last night and this morning and keep it together long enough for him to even attempt to explain.
Because there was nothing he could say that would change the truth. He’s been lying to me since day one. Since the moment we met. The conversation rings in my ear the entire way to the airport about the first time I asked him about a girlfriend, and he told me it was complicated. How complicated does having one have to be? Complicated as in, she was in the dark about his modeling escapades? And how pathetic was I? I fell for it. I fell fast and hard into this web of lies. He had me linked to all the words, endearments, the late-night talks, the passion. It was all for nothing. Because he never took us serious. Was his love even real?
I broke down in the cab, and once again on the flight. I spent half the flight sobbing in the tightly fitted bathroom. When we finally landed, I was exhausted and numb. I didn’t bother turning my phone back on. I knew he would at least call. How could he not? I’m sure he needed half his shit out of my room.
Or maybe he didn’t. I’m sure he also wanted to just forget what just happened. I’m sure he had a lot of explaining to do with his girlfriend. And that didn’t involve trying to explain to me.
I’m shocked, in my condition, I make it home in one piece. When I walk into my apartment, the silence of my small home saddens me even more. I lower my head, taking in breath after breath. I used to love the quietness of my life. But now, being here makes me feel so empty.
I numbly drag my aching legs into my room. I let Gerdie know I’m home, opening his cage and brushing his beak with kisses. “Hey, baby, Mamma’s home early, isn’t that awesome?” I croak, trying not to lose it in front of my bird.
“Awesome. That’s awesome.”
“It is awesome, Gerdie.”
Not.
I wake up feeling groggy, unaware of my surroundings. For a quick moment, I forgot I’m in my own bed, until the memories from the last twenty-four hours blast through me, my gut aching all over again. I must have passed out without putting Gerdie in his cage, because he’s perched on top of my head.
“Gerdie, a little room, buddie.” I swat him away, and he flies, perching himself on my dresser. I lift my legs, dropping them on the ground. I debate on lying back down, but I have to pee and I have the worst taste in my mouth. I get up and relieve myself and brush my teeth. I head to the kitchen, debating on drinking half the bottle of tequila sitting on top of my fridge for breakfast.
My stomach, uneasy as it is, I sadly pass. I make a pot of coffee, straight black, like my mood. I take a squat on my couch. Sipping the dark liquid, I stare at the object on my coffee table. My phone.
Should I turn it on?
Or should I toss it out my window?
The bigger question is if I can handle what comes through once I turn it on.
I know I promised Kristen I would call her once I got home, so I know she has to be worried. At least I need to turn it on to call her, then I can change my number or just lose my phone altogether. I barely used it before this disastrous glitch in my life. I’ll be fine without one. I lean forward, grabbing for it and holding the on button until the phone begins to light up.
Once my home screen pops up, my phone starts vibrating. I toss it on the table, as if it’s going to reach out and bite me. I watch it ping and ping. Notifications, one after another, pop up. My hands shiver, afraid of what I’ll see when I read through the notifications.
One deep breath and I reach for it. I have fourteen voicemails from Chase. Five from Kristen, and a shit-ton of text messages. I can’t do this. I can’t hear his voice or listen to his excuse. I quickly unlock my phone and shoot a text to Kristen, telling her I’m home and sorry I didn’t call last night. I’ll call her soon, and then I toss the phone. As much as my curiosity wants to hear what he has to say, it won’t fix what he did.
I get up, ditching my coffee, and grab for the bottle of tequila.
I head back to my room, planning on drinking away the curiosity and sleeping off the regret.
It’s close to nine at night when I stroll into the bar.
Dex spots me instantly, shocked to see me. “Thought you weren’t supposed to be back until next Wednesday?”
I shrug my shoulders. Walking up to the bar, I say, “Plans changed. Why, aren’t you happy to see me?” My smile doesn’t reach my eyes.
“No, it’s fine. You okay? You look… off.”
I sit down, losing my smile completely. “What is it with you always asking me if I’m all right?” I snap unintentionally.
He watches me a bit longer, getting the hint. He drops it. “Got it. So why are you here? You ain’t workin’.”
“Nope, but I want to drink.” I ended up putting a sweet dent into the tequila bottle. I passed out on my floor crying to Gerdie, then woke up to darkness and the silence in my place strangling me. My head was pounding, and I knew I couldn’t stay in the quiet any longer. So, I headed to the bar.
I just needed a place where I can feel like my old self. To pretend I haven’t turned into everything I never wanted to be. I never understood cheating. People who wanted more than what they already had. And working at a bar, I saw a ton of it. People think that being at a dive bar means they can show up and no one will recognize them. It’s the perfect place to have a secret affair and sit in the corner, outside of their ritzy normal establishments and woo it with a woman who’s not their girlfriend or their wife.
Are they that unhappy that they have to stray? Is marriage that hard? Or are men that selfish and don’t know in this century how to stay faithful? My parents loved each other. They showed it in every single way, to a point where my gross face was threatening to become permanent I wore it so often. My dad always had flowers in his hand, and my mom was always smiling, finding ways to make my dad happy. I used to think when I was little that that’s what I wanted. I wanted that forever love my parents had. But then they died and I realized nothing was forever.
That was the starting factor for why I always strayed away from love. Or, maybe it wasn’t, but after the death of my parents, that love I felt died with them. The love they showed to me wasn’t carried on through my extended family. My bright imagination and optimism slowly faded and as life got harder, so did my heart. When you’re little, I guess you’re taught that love is essential. It’s all-around. The one thing in life that is free, my dad would always say. When I would overhear my parents talking about money and bills, my dad always told my mom we would never have to worry because as long as love was still free they would get through anything.
Maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t around anymore because I’m not sure how long they would have survived knowing how much love costs nowadays.
“Another.” I slam my hand on the bar for the third time, and again, Dex puts another shot of tequila in front of me. I haven’t said much since I sat down. Which is for the better. I just want to sit here and remember a time when I wasn’t so stupid.
Because that’s exactly what I am. What happened to built-in girl intuition? That bullshit that says women always know when a man is cheating or unfaithful. I hear it all the time at the bar. How one girlfriend is telling her sobbing friend at the bar to stick to her gut. Her man is definitely not being faithful. She knew her man was cheating. She practically caught him. But she was so in love, she sold herself short, willing to turn a blind eye to it.
I swore I would never be that girl.
I also swore I would never get suckered by fake love.
“Another.” I slam my hand on the bar more aggressively this time.
“You wanna drink yourself stupid, fine. But not until you tell me what’s fucking up with you.”
I lift my head, making eye contact with Dex. His dark eyes seep into mine. He’s always made my skin tingle. No matter our status. He’s never judged me or wanted anything from me but me. And that’s why I don’t back down when I de
mand he serve me. “Pour me a fucking shot, Dex.”
He continues to stare at me, waiting for me to back down, but I refuse. I won’t be confessing what a mess I’ve secretly become. I came here tonight to bury those feelings and unwanted pains with tequila and then press my reset button. This is just going to be a glitch in my—
Giggling from the corner of the bar distracts me and I lose concentration on my internal speech. I look behind me and see a couple. The couple, holding hands and practically brushing noses. My eyes narrow, as I watch the man scrape his fingers up her arm, his wedding band noticeable in the dim light. The woman, not his wife, giggles once more, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard for me.
“You gonna talk?”
I shake my head and turn away from the couple. “No, I’m not. I’m going to sit here. Just serve me, Dex.” Both hands are flat on the bar. I need him to know I mean business. I won’t be fucking pushed—
Again. That fucking giggling. I whip my head back to the couple, witnessing them in a lip-lock of betrayal and lies.
“That’s fucking it.” I push off the stool and get up. Storming over, startling them both, I slam my hands on the table.
“Jesus, lady, what’s your problem?” The cheater asshole husband hisses at me.
“What my problem is, you cheating fucking asshole, is that I’m sick of seeing you and your home wrecking girlfriend in my bar!”
“Excuse me?” the man barks, throwing himself out of his seat. “You better step away—”
“Or what? Gonna lose your business? Good! Get the fuck out of here! Go home to your wife!” I step forward, leaning over the table, poking him square in the chest. “I’m sure she would love to know what you’ve been up to!”
His lady tramp comes at me, but before I have a chance to pull her fucking hair out for participating in such a horrible act, Dex is behind me. His arms wrapping around my waist, he lifts me up, dragging me away from the table.
“Put me down! You fucking cheater!” I’m fighting in his grip, trying to still yell at the table. Before I know it, Dex is slamming the office door behind him.
Love Broken Page 16