She drops to the floor in front of me and kisses my neck. I pick her up and toss her onto the bed.
She sits up and smiles. “Oh, my boy wants to get frisky. It’s been so long. Come on, baby. Give me your best shot.”
Holding up my hands, I back away from the bed. “I’m getting another room for the night. I’m buying you a ticket on the first flight out tomorrow morning, and I expect you to be on it. I’ll have my lawyers send you terms about moving out of the condo and returning the car. The monthly allowance will stop now. Your cards will be turned off tomorrow.”
She stalks toward me, and I brace myself for a slap. She kisses my cheek and giggles. “This will be such a funny story we tell our children one day. We both know you won’t follow through with those threats, but I’ll play along if that helps you work through whatever this is.” She turns around on the ball of her foot and ambles to the bathroom.
Once I hear the shower turn on, I grab all of my things that I can and trudge to the front desk. They’re booked to capacity. Of course they are.
I text Charlie. Need to crash with you. Are you back?
Charlie: Just got back. You can sleep here, but be prepared for me to kick your ass.
Chase: It’s all a misunderstanding. Jenna’s insane.
Charlie: Just get your ass up here.
She answers the door before I knock. “First you get my husband so drunk he has to be carried home, then you pull this shit.” She wags her finger. “Lucy, you’ve got some serious ‘splaining to do,” she says in a Ricky Ricardo accent.
Damn, I completely forgot about Spencer! At least he made it home in one piece. I brush past her and pace the room. “I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Jenna sent out wedding invitations! She’s here! In my hotel room. She set up a fucking bachelor party! She’s deranged. I’m actually worried about her mental stability. She thinks we’re getting back together. It’s like talking to a fucking brick wall.”
At this point, I’m expecting a hug, or at least a sympathetic look, from my twin, but all I get is a glare that could refreeze the polar ice caps. “What about the pictures?”
“What’re you talking about?”
She tosses her iPad at me. “Seems the press is Team Henrik, especially now that someone released smutty photos and claimed Ari’s been sleeping around. One picture, in particular, I know you’re the only one who’s ever seen. Hell, Spencer hasn’t even seen it,” she says, pointing her thumb at the bedroom.
I slide through the pictures. They’re all mine, even the one I took while we were golfing that I’d known I shouldn’t take. But she’d just looked so smoking hot I couldn’t resist capturing it for… later use. “I don’t know how someone could have gotten these. One or two of them may be on my phone, but the rest are in my garage.”
“The garage you’ve had contractors in and out of unsupervised for months?”
I lumber to the mini-bar and grab the first bottle I get my hands on, thinking about what Charlie has just said. I met all the guys on the construction crew, and they seemed like good guys. I just can’t see them pillaging through my boxes of crap. My Arianna box is buried under a bunch of other shit I saved from college. And by “saved” I mean “was too lazy to throw away.”
“Hit me with one of those,” Charlie calls.
I throw her one and move next to her on the sofa. I twist the cap off my bottle. “How it got out isn’t as important to me as the fact that she’s going to kill me. She’s going to gut me from sternum to scrotum.” Picturing how pissed Ari will be, I guzzle the bottle of Kettle One. Warm vodka isn’t my favorite, but I need something to take the edge off this night.
Charlie crinkles her nose. “How colorful. And true. Kiss your junk good-bye. Looks like we’ll both be infertile.”
I glare at her and bump her shoulder with mine. “Stop it. You guys will get pregnant.” I hold up my hands. “Not that I want to hear any more on the subject, but I know it will happen.”
She nudges me back. “Thanks, but I’m not holding my breath.”
Putting the bottle down, I turn so I can look her in the eyes. “You know I had nothing to do with any of this, right? I need you on my side. She’ll listen to you.”
She pours her bottle of Jack into a glass. “I’m not getting into the middle of this. Don’t ask me to be your advocate. You need to work this out amongst yourselves.”
“I can’t do that, because she won’t talk to me. She refuses to answer the door, and I have her phone.”
She shoots back her drink. “Good luck with that. I’m going to bed.” She stalks off to the bedroom and closes the door.
As far as I can tell, I have one option here. It better damn well work.
Chapter Two
Arianna
I did not bring appropriate attire for a paparazzi-attack-filled day. I’ve got Bahamas wear and outfits appropriate for watching college football—chic but not what I want to be wearing while splattered across grocery checkout aisles. When I was packing for this trip, I never imagined someone was going to accuse me of being a whore and leak private photos of me to the tabloids.
When Daddy showed me those pictures last night, my heart shattered. Daddy cautioned me against blaming Chase. As vindictive as Chase is, it doesn’t make sense that he would drag our parents into his scheme. But on the other hand, he’s the only one with copies of some of those photos. The one from high school was taken on actual film, and I destroyed the negatives myself. There isn’t a digital copy floating around that could have been hacked. Chase is the only one with a copy of that picture. What else am I supposed to believe?
With all this media attention, I need to look perfect today, as though this hasn’t had any impact on me at all. Carefree and casual. To pull that off, I’m going to need help. Since Chase is still holding my phone hostage, I use the hotel phone to call my PR rep. I know worrying about my clothing is shallow and the hotel phone charges will probably cost me twenty dollars a minute on top of Shelly’s bill, but I’ve avoided scandal my whole life. I’d be foolish not to be scrupulous now. I need to be calculating in how I proceed, right down to what I wear. It’s before dawn, but I know she’s up.
“Where have you been?” she screams into the phone. “There’s practically a manhunt out for you. I’ve been calling you every hour on the hour.”
“I’ve lost my phone. Horrible timing, I know,” I reply. “How bad is it?”
“Bad?” she shouts so loudly I almost drop the phone. “It’s fantastic! Better than fantastic. If I run into the guy who dropped these pics, I’ll give him a blow job myself. I’ve been getting non-stop calls about you. Simon told me that you’ve been offered a ton of ad gigs. You need to strike while this iron is hot! Last I heard, Porsche is after you, and Polo wants you back to do a sexy golf line.”
It hadn’t even occurred to me to call my agent. “So I’m not being trashed?”
“No, baby! People are filling up their vaults of happy thoughts with these very sexy images of you, but the affair rumors aren’t sticking since the pictures are of just you. You should see the backlash. People are saying the leak is just some creepy stalker. That and Henrik has been blasting social media, defending your honor. It’s such a shame you and that boy couldn’t make it work. He’s a gem.”
Henrik’s a social media junkie. He’s the type to tweet what he eats for lunch, about the checkout girl at the grocery store who had an ill-placed facial piercing, and all the random thoughts that run through his mind while he’s in the bathroom. Social media is the ADD best friend he’s always wanted but could never find. I can only imagine the field day he’s having.
I can’t help but smile. “Henrik’s amazing. Sadly not so amazing for me but amazing nonetheless.”
“You can’t help who you love, darling. Don’t fret about it. Just make sure you look scorching hot today. We need to keep this momentum going. Only be seen on your father’s arm and look dazzling. Do you want me to send over a few things? One of my stylists is at
Niemen’s right now collecting pieces for another client.”
I lie back against the headboard and release a sigh of relief. “Please. I did not pack for media scrutiny.”
“Anything for you. I’ll make sure you look fab. Call your agent and remember—big carefree smiles all day. The world is watching.”
When isn’t it? After hanging up, I pull out my iPad and toggle through my emails. Just as Shelly said, there are at least two dozen from my agent with all sorts of offers. Everything from cover work to leading a campaign. One of my favorite designers wants to do a line inspired by me.
The turn of events this morning boggles my mind. Having a lot to mull over, I decide to throw on running gear. One of the best things about Arizona is the spectacular sunrises. Since I’m here and awake before dawn, I might as well enjoy it. As I open the door, a crumpled Chase falls into my room. From the looks of it, he’s still in his clothes from last night.
He sits up and wipes his eyes before looking around as though he’s trying to get his bearings. “Give me five minutes before you slaughter me.” He presses his palms together as though he’s praying. “Please. I beg you.”
“Did you sleep at my door?” I ask. “What, did your fiancée kick you out?”
“You wouldn’t open when I knocked. I didn’t see that I had much choice.” He slowly stands, holding up his hands in defense. “I’ll explain as much as I can, but please just give me five minutes.”
By the door indent in his cheek, it looks as though he’s been here for a while. If this were all a revenge game, he’d be gloating by now, and there’s no way in hell he would have slept in the hallway.
I sit on the sofa and cross my arms. “You’ve got two minutes.”
He kneels before me but doesn’t touch me. As smart move on his part. “I’m not marrying her, and I didn’t leak those pictures. I know it looks bad, but I’d never do that to you. I love you, I finally have you back, and I’d never do anything to jeopardize that. For once, I truly didn’t have a hand in any of this, and it would break me if I lost you.”
He looks at me with beseeching eyes, as if asking for permission to continue. I give him a slight nod. He tells me a convoluted story about Jenna conspiring to get him back. He doesn’t seem to connect the dots that she’s probably the one who leaked the pictures, but it’s fairly obvious to me.
I cross my legs and lean back into the sofa. “It seems like the ultimate vindication for you: get me to fall for you again, destroy my name across the headlines, and marry someone else just to prove you’re over me. You have to admit it sounds like you.”
He shifts his position and sits back on his heels. “I’m not like that anymore.”
“Up until recently, you hated me. This is exactly like you. Have your forgotten how many years I was victim to your foolish games?”
“I hated you because I couldn’t stop loving you. There’s a difference. Plus, if I were going to trash you to the press, I would do a much better job than posting a few relatively innocent photos. You know me better than that. If I really wanted to break you, it would be so vicious you’d go into hiding for the next decade.”
As messed up as it is, that’s actually reassuring. This nonsense is rather tame by our standards. When we go at each other, we go for blood. This is hardly a scratch.
He takes my hand. “Please believe me. I would never bring our families into this if I were just trying to hurt you. My sister would never speak to me again, my parents would disown me, and I would lose your father. Would I risk all of that for some vendetta? Would I really marry Jenna and spend my life miserable just to spite you?”
I pull my hand away and walk across the room. I can’t be influenced by those damn puppy dog eyes. He’s easy to cast as the villain, but I think I have to believe him. The evidence looked damning last night, but I was overtired and had been carpet-bombed with one emotional hit after another. It’s possible my emotions had added one and one to equal Chase is an asshole. Hearing him lay it out like that, my original conclusion simply doesn’t make sense.
I turn around, and he’s still on his knees, a sign of vulnerability that he never would have shown before. “I believe you.”
He jumps up and sweeps me into his arms. He kisses me furiously then kisses up my neck. When he gets to my ear, he whispers, “Thank you for believing me.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “Not even forty-eight hours in and we’ve already got drama. Are we crazy for doing this again?”
“I don’t care if there’s drama. You’re worth it.” He kisses the top of my head and slowly runs his finger down the length of my arm.
I tilt my head up to kiss him, then there’s a knock at the door. I throw on a bathrobe while Chase steps into the bathroom. Since half of the people staying in the hotel have recently received an invitation to Chase’s wedding to Jenna, walking in on the two of us could be awkward.
Abbigail from my publicist’s office staggers into the room with her arms full of bags. “You are going to love the options I got for you. My guy over at Neiman’s loves you and has a major crush on your dad. He had a field day picking stuff out for you. My vote is for the Diane von Fürstenberg with the knee-high Gucci boots.” She drops a few bags on the floor and hangs the dress bags in my closet. She comes over and kisses my cheek. “I’ve got to run. The valet is holding my car up front, and I’ve got four other clients to get to. Of course none of you are staying in the same area of town.” She rushes out the door as fast as she rushed in.
“You can come out. It’s all clear,” I call.
Chase returns wearing only his boxers, and he eyes the shopping bag explosion. “Neiman’s delivers now?”
I start sorting through the bags, checking out the shoes. “Only when your publicist wants to make sure you look good in print.”
He winces. “I’m really sorry about that. I swear I’ll figure out—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “Before you start feeling too guilty, my agent’s phone has apparently been ringing off the hook. Seems everyone with a golf line or a plaid pleated skirt in their collection wants me. GQ wants me to do a cover.”
He raises his eyebrows. “GQ, huh?”
I smirk as I pick an amazing Prada clutch out of a bag. The embarrassing pictures might be worth it for this bag alone. “Yup, just me and my nine iron. Nothing else.”
He swallows hard. “Wow. That’s… quite the… opportunity.”
He wants to flip out. I can smell the anger radiating off of him, but he’s trying his best to hold it in.
“So you’d have no problem with me doing that cover?” I’m goading him. It’s not fair, but I can’t help myself. Considering this situation is partially his fault, he deserves to eat a little crow. If I’m being completely honest, I want to see how he reacts. My ads always came between us before, so I’m curious how he’ll react this time.
He sits on the bed. From the furrow in his brow, I can tell he’s crafting his response. “You’ve been back in my life for two days. It’s a bit soon for me to start asking you to turn down work that I’m not comfortable with. That wouldn’t be fair of me.”
The Prada slips out of my hands as I stare at him in shock. “That’s incredibly mature and respectful of you.” I look down and notice he’s clutching a pillow so hard I’m concerned he’s going to shred it. “So if I tell you that you get points for such a good answer, will you tell me how you really feel? I promise not to get mad.”
He shakes his head and laughs, still clutching the pillow. “That’s a trap if I’ve ever seen one. No way in hell. I’m trying to do things differently this time, which means I don’t run my mouth every time I have an emotion. You got the evolved boyfriend answer, and you’ll like it.”
I sit next to him, pry the pillow from his hands, and kiss him softly. “Your white knuckles say all that I need to know.”
“Pick a lane, Aldrich. Either you want me to support your career moves unconditionally, or you want me to be a caveman who kills anyo
ne who leers at you too long.”
I pat his cheek with my palm. “Silly boy. You really don’t understand women at all. I want both. I want you to support me unconditionally while deep down plotting how you’re going to secretly buy every copy of the magazine so that no one will ever see it. I want it all.”
He pulls me onto his lap and gently pushes my bathrobe off my shoulders. He places soft, sensual kisses down my neck. “I’ll support any career decision you make, even if I hate every second of it. I will never stand in your way again.” He slides his hand up to cup my breast, and we hear another knock on the door. He pulls my bathrobe back up. “What is this, Grand Central Station?”
“Apparently. It’s probably for the best. We both need to get ready. There’s a luncheon we’re expected to go to, and I think I heard that all the boys are going to the casino before the game. You going to hide in the bathroom again?”
“Yup.” He kisses my forehead before standing. “It reminds me of old times. Sneaking around. It’s kinda hot.”
I open the door to find Spencer with Chase’s roller bag.
“Must we go over this again? I won’t run away with you,” I tease.
He pushes past me and closes the door. “Very funny, Ari Zari. Is he here?”
I groan at his nickname and lean against the door, twirling a strand of hair. “Is who where?”
“Don’t play coy. I’m not in the mood. I’m hungover, hungry, and Jenna has been in my room for the last three hours talking wedding plans with Katie and Charlie. That woman is off her rocker.”
Chase steps out of the bathroom. “What? She was supposed to be on a seven a.m. flight!”
Spencer glares at me from the sofa.
I shrug. “What? We’re keeping it on the DL since Prince Charming here is betrothed to another.” I cross the room, sit next to Spencer, wrap my arms around him, and plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
He winces and wipes away the slobber with the back of his hand. He looks mortified. “That was uncalled for.”
“Wuss.” I punch him in the shoulder. “You called me Ari Zari. You left me no choice.”
Love To Hate You Page 2