by M. E. Gordon
“Bullshit. It wasn’t no one. Spit it out. Oh God, did you sleep with Chuck? That little bastard, I told him to keep his paws off you. He would--”
“Beth, it was no one. I just thought I heard someone at the door, that’s all.”
I frowned at her, questioning her story. “I’ve got my eye on you. Something fishy is going on around here,” I said, eyeing my friend up and down.
“It’s nothing, Beth. Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to sooth me.
“Okay,” I said, holding my hands up as I walked back out to the kitchen to get some hot tea.
Chapter 17
Spencer had managed to get the photo taken off the Internet by Saturday morning. I guessed my brothers were right, because as soon as it was taken off about half the photographers were gone.
With only a few paparazzi camped outside, I attempted to head to the café to do some reading. I needed to get out of the condo and the café was the safest place I knew.
Walking up to the counter, I ordered my usual.
“Beth is that you?” Karen, one of the baristas, asked.
Taking my hood off slightly, I nodded, holding my finger to my mouth. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said quietly. “I’m trying to, ya’ know, lay low, stay incognito.”
Nodding in agreement, she rang me up. Taking my tea and muffin, I went and sat on my cozy couch minus one perfect man.
The first few days, Simon was calling me every night, but as the week went on his calls became every other day, and the last three days I hadn’t heard from him. He had texted me, but no calls.
Relaxing back, I set in and opened my new book. It didn’t take long before I was totally lost in it. I was 200 pages in to the 400 page book when I caught a chill from the door being opened for an unusual amount of time. Closing the book, but leaving my finger to hold the page, I looked up at the commotion toward the front of the store.
A bull of a man, who looked really out of place in this small café, walked in my direction. A slightly smaller man followed behind him, holding his head down. A flash of light from the window put everything in perspective. This man who was dressed casually in jeans, a sweat shirt with black blazer over top and lowered baseball cap was clearly in hiding. I knew the exact feeling. Holy crap! I can’t shake this man. He is literally everywhere!
I watched from just above the book that now covered my face as Spencer went to the counter to order a drink. Karen was lost in his good looks, just like every other girl, as she fumbled her words in front of him. Leaning around him very obviously, she tried to get my attention to let me know who was currently ordering a large coffee. Like I don’t already know who it is?
I shook my head at her, mouthing “Don’t make a scene.”
Spencer was looking confused as she appeared to be talking to an invisible man beside him. He turned to see who she was talking to. I tried as quickly as possible to cover my face with the book, but he saw me. I really need to work on my reaction time.
Thankfully, Karen quickly recovered. “Would you like anything else, sir?” she asked, getting his attention again.
“No that’s all,” he said, handing her some cash. “Keep the change.”
As his back was toward, me I reached down to grab my bag, I needed to get the hell out before he could say anything. Pulling my hood over my head, I planned to walk the outskirts of the café to make sure I kept my distance from him. It was no use.
He caught me by the arm--again, before I was able to even take two full steps.
Damn it, why do my knees get weak when he touches me?
Holding my arm just above my elbow, he turned me toward him. As he did, a chorus of flashes went off on the other side of the window. “Elizabeth,” he said.
I looked nervously around the café. It was obvious that everyone had stopped their conversations to watch us. Great now we have an audience.
Moving my arm from his warm grip, I took the two steps back and sat down on the couch. Looking up into Spencer’s face, I nodded my head at the empty seat next to me.
He paused momentarily before joining me. I hope he thinks I’m going to belittle him in public. Turning toward him, I got my first good look at him since the park incident. He was still handsome as hell, but it looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Dark circles were under his beautiful blue eyes. When he took his hat off, his hair was a disheveled and unkempt mess.
I decided that right now wasn’t the time to get nasty. “So I guess I owe you some thanks,” I said, adjusting my bag on my lap so I had something to keep my nervous hands busy.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’m sorry the picture got out, but I’m not going to apologize for what happened that night.”
Well, I guess we’re going to do this again. “Spencer, listen. That night was a mistake. I’m with--” I needed to say this to him so why wouldn’t the words come?
“I know you’re with another man, but you and I both know that night you weren’t. You were with me.”
Technically, but that’s irrelevant now. This was not how I pictured this going at all. “Spencer, what do you want from me? This was never going to work. It’s for the best.”
His expression was unchanging. His strong presence kept me on my toes. I felt as if I never knew what was going to come out of his mouth. And I hated that that excited the hell out of me.
“I know you’re with someone else. What I want from you is--” He stopped, as if he was calming himself down, trying to rein in his temper. “I don’t believe in fate, but I can’t help but think that I’m supposed to be near you. Look at this,” he said, glancing around the café. “You can’t keep calling these little run-ins coincidence.”
There was desperation in his voice for me to agree with him, but I just couldn’t get on board.
“Well, maybe if you stop stalking me, we’d stop running in to each other.”
Sitting back on the love seat he looked back at me, stunned. “You think I have nothing better to do with my day but sit around and figure out where you are going to be and what you are going to be doing. I’m fucking Spencer Salvatore. I don’t have time to figure that shit out!”
Just when I think that maybe he’s a decent guy, he goes and says some shit like that.
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, trying to reel me back in along with his temper. “I try to stay away from you. Honestly I do, but you have to believe me, I’m not stalking you. I stay away from relationships and women. The feelings that I have for you, I haven’t had in a long time. It got me in trouble once and, ever since, I have been very careful to not let it happen again. But when I’m with you, I find myself wandering back down that road and it fucking scares me to death.”
I stared at him, silently wishing that he would have told me all that earlier, but I was with Simon now and I wasn’t going to ruin that.
“Excuse me, your coffee’s ready,” Karen called from the counter.
Standing abruptly, he looked over at her. “Thank you,” he said, before turning back to me. “Believe what you want, Elizabeth, but I believe something else entirely is going on here--fate, destiny, call it whatever you want. I’m not going to fight it anymore. Like I told your brothers, I don’t care if they approve or not, and I don’t care if you’re seeing someone else. End it with him, don’t end it with him, but you can damn well count on me not giving up.”
Without another word, he walked over, got his coffee, and left the café.
I stayed seated, crippled by his words. How can he do this to me? Make me want to strangle him one minute, and the next throw everything away just to be in his arms again?
I needed to know more. I needed to figure him out, and the only way I was going to do that was if I had a conversation that was longer than ten minutes with him.
Just as I got ready to call after him, my phone began vibrating then ringing from within my bag. Glancing at the phone, I saw Simons name light up. I almost threw it back in my bag and ran after Spencer--almost.
; I heard the crazy questions from the paparazzi as he opened the door to leave and decided to keep quiet.
“Do you love her?”
“Is she the one?”
“Why Elizabeth Monroe?”
I’d like to know the answer to that question, too. Why me? What did he see in me that made him have these feeling that he hasn’t had in years? Why am I so special?
The ringing of my phone brought me out of my questioning mind. I was with Simon, and I owed him my attention. “Hello,” I said, trying to sound cheery. I found myself having to do that a lot when I answered his calls.
“My beautiful Belle, I didn’t think you were going to answer. You had me a little worried there for a minute,” he said, but the background noise was making it hard to hear him.
“Sorry, I was studying. Where are you at? It’s really loud.”
It went quiet before he spoke again. “Better? I’m at a café for a shoot.”
I smiled, thinking that even though we were thousands of miles apart, we were still kind of in the same place.
“Funny you say that. I’m at our café.”
“How’s Karen doing? You keeping my seat warm for me?” he asked.
Thankfully he was thousands of miles away so he wouldn’t know that someone else had been in his seat if only for a few minutes. Settling back on the couch, I caught up with him.
He was truly a jet setter. This week he was in England, next he was going to the south of France, then on to Spain. “Well, like I said, this week is going to be tough, but I will call you when I can. I miss you.”
Umm Spencer who? I loved talking to Simon. I really wished he was here with me, then none of this would be happening right now.
“I miss you too, you have no idea how much,” I said back.
“I think I do,” Simon responded, before saying bye and hanging up.
***
“He really said that? Like legit, he told you he didn’t care about the other guy? That he was going to just keep at it?” Gia asked, getting a little too excited over my chance meeting with Spencer.
“Not in so many words, but that’s creepy, right?” I asked, taking a bite of the Chinese food we’d ordered.
“Umm, it’s only creepy if the guy saying it is a total weirdo. I’ve met Spencer. He’s not a weirdo. A sexy beast? Yes. Weirdo? I don’t think so. You did say you wanted to get to know him better”
Great, Gia was jumping on the Salvatore train now.
“I mean, come on, the man is sexy as hell. Look at that,” she said, holding a Forbs Magazine with Spencer on it in front of my face. “Jesus, how do you not do whatever he says with those eyes looking at you? You got some will power, sister.”
I took the magazine from her and looked at it before tossing in on the coffee table. “You know, not too long ago, you were telling me to forget about Spencer and focus on Simon. What’s with the sudden change of heart,” I asked, bumping her shoulder.
“I didn’t say that--exactly. I merely told you that you should wait and see if he makes an effort, which I think he has. I mean, he did talk to your brothers.”
Damn, she’s right. I hate it when she’s right.
“Wait a minute. This doesn’t count. He is just running in to me. It’s not like he’s chasing me down or calling me or knocking on my door.”
Grabbing the magazine again, she leaned back on the couch and stared at Spencer’s picture. A wave of jealousy ripped through me and I hated it. I hated that I felt so possessive over him.
“Well, call it my inner slut coming out, but when your not-even-boyfriend-at-the-time leaves for a month and the hottest man in the world confesses his undying love to you, I say, jump that ship see how it rides.”
I tore the magazine from her. “Ugh, Gia, that’s dirty even for you. Tell your inner slut to calm down over there.”
Our attention was suddenly turned toward the television, as we heard my name come through the speakers.
“Turn it up,” I said, hitting her arm, while the blood drained from my face.
“...Spencer Salvatore used to be a very private person--that is, until he took on a business adventure with DC locals, and playboys in their own right, Theodore and Charles Monroe, better known as Teddy and Chuck to their growing fan base. But it’s not these handsome playboys the world is obsessed with. It’s their little sister Elizabeth Monroe, who started off as a nobody. We’ve all watched as the two strangers met and soon a relationship unfolded on the pages of Fames website. A modern day love story. The world simply can’t get enough of them. The very private sister to the Monroe brothers has been in hiding since the racy picture leaked over a week ago. The world wants to know more about the voluptuous Elizabeth Monroe. She is a nice image change to the typical slender model figure that most famous playboys sport. It seems as though things aren’t as perfect as we once thought. A recent photo of the duo taken in a local café is raising eyebrows. Witnesses say there was tension between the thought-to-be-lovers. We will all be watching to see how this--what some people are calling fairy tale story--ends...”
What did I do to deserve this? I must have been a horrible person in another life. I probably threw kittens in a river.
“Well, they didn’t say anything bad about you. They said nice things actually.”
I shot Gia a warning look to shut up. “Yeah? Well, if people didn’t know who I was then, they sure as hell do now. Shit, even I’m buying into the whole ‘love story, how will it end’ bullcrap. My life is a freaking soap opera,” I said in frustration.
“Well--”
“Shut up, Gia, you’re not helping here.”
Chapter 18
The weeks flew by. My school work started piling up, which helped to keep my mind off other things. Simon’s calls became even more infrequent, but when he did call, the conversations we had were great. Long distance was not fun, especially when everything was still so new.
Spencer had been MIA as usual--no flowers with creepy notes and no accidental run-ins. I only hoped that maybe this was all over and he was over whatever little infatuation he had with me. I am ready to be Spencer and paparazzi free, I think. No, I definitely am.
Checking out the window one last time, I shook my head at the nonsense that was going on. These people, if you could even call them that, were relentless at trying to get a picture of me. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to get home. So, against my better judgment, I stood from the quiet sanctuary of the library and pulled my sweatshirt over my head.
My flip-flop-clad toes caught a chill from the mid-November air. I thought I was going to be safe going out the back. Obviously not. I’d been seen. Within seconds, more photographers were hot on my ass. Jogging, I tried to get away faster. The fear of being chased made my heart pound. Nothing like running for your life.
Getting frustrated that I wasn’t giving them anything, the hounds turned nasty. “Hey, chunks, wait up.”
“Haters are going to love this action shot.”
“You’re not hot enough for him. What’s he thinking?”
Well, it worked. Good job. “You all are heartless assholes. I’m sure you’re parents are so proud of you,” I yelled over my shoulder.
Which, of course, only made things worse. It was like they multiplied before my eyes. I turned and ran even faster as I slipped back into nightmares of being chased and teased as a child. Only, this time, my brothers weren’t here to take the heat off me. I had learned to handle idiots like this by the time I got to high school, but I really didn’t want an assault charge filed against me.
I held in the anger and tears for another block, but soon a tsunami of tears and emotions had taken over and fell from my eyes. It was hard to tell what was in front of me as I ran, the tears making my vision blurry. My flip flop got caught on a section of the sidewalk that had jutted up. I braced myself for the fall and the flashes of light that I was sure were going to follow. And they did. I was surrounded by cameras. I couldn’t see anyone’s face, just their unforgiv
ing cameras.
Quickly, I tried to stand, but I stumbled back to the ground. My ankle was not having it. I held my head down, hoping that everyone would magically just disappear when I looked back up, but they didn’t.
I registered that some people were yelling at the swarm around me, telling them to back off and leave me alone. One voice stood out against the rest. “Back the fuck up, if you know what’s good for you.”
Grasping my ankle, I could tell that something was not right. There was a huge knot on the side and it was changing colors before my eyes. I cannot handle this right now. The lingering tears made it hard to focus on anything other than the figures surrounding me. Sensing someone walk up behind me, I pulled my body into a tighter ball, praying silently that they wouldn’t resort to kicking me. This was enough public shaming for one day, without adding being stomped.
I felt the weight of a hand rest gently on my shoulder, as the person knelt before me. Whipping my head up and almost getting whiplash, I stared into Spencer’s beautiful face.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said.
I froze. The distinct noise of clicks going off was all I could concentrate on.
“Elizabeth, look at me. I’m getting you out of here.”
I nodded up at him, absolutely relieved. The tears start rolling again. Effortlessly, he picked me up off the ground. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. Damn, he smelled good.
He took a step then stopped. “I said back off!”
The roar of his voice would have scared the shit out of me if he had yelled at me like that. He walked the rest of the way to the large SUV parked on the side of the road. I scooted over, giving him room to hop in and slam the door to all the chaos outside.
The driver pulled away and we started down the road.
“Are you okay?” he asked, turning to look at me. “Let me see it,” he said, pointing to my ankle.
Wiping my eyes, I fixed my hair and clothes. “I’m fine,” I said, holding the edge of the seat, white knuckled. I kept my eyes fixed on the window and clenched my jaw every time the pain shot up from my ankle.