Myka and the Millionaire

by Alexis Alvarez

  Jessica ignored that. “See, that’s what he says, too. That he was looking for a short-term thing and the short term ended. But he’s miserable. He’s always growling and snapping at people at the club. He’s there every night and he sits there with a drink, staring at it, and he sometimes puts his head in his hands.”

  “Does he pull his hair?” Myka couldn’t help asking.

  “Sometimes!” Jessica smiled. “He mutters under his breath in French. He’s mean to newcomers. He’s grumpy to his friends. I think he misses you a lot. He hasn’t touched a woman there, you know.”

  “Maybe he needs to get laid.” It was a knife in the gut to imagine him with someone else. Myka sipped her wine and tried not to clench the stem.

  “Yeah, with you.” Jessica gave her a long look.

  “We’re over, Jessie.” Myka tapped her glass. “More than over. He doesn’t love me and right now I kind of hate him. Even though I still love him. It’s no fun to be with someone when you like them a whole lot more than they like you. It’s like Tantalus, forever reaching for what you can’t have. And he hasn’t apologized or expressed any interest in getting back together.”

  “But I think he loves you too.”

  Myka was frustrated. “He misses regular sex. We had great chemistry together. I miss it too.” She missed more than the sex, but she didn’t want to open that floodgate.

  Jessie rubbed the condensation on her glass. “The other day, he had his laptop at the club. I saw him Google Dark Sin and Taylor. Then he Googled your name.”

  “Really?” Myka’s heart leaped, but she squashed it back. She also squashed back a thought of “knew you’d go back without his apology,” because she had never truly expected Jessie and Brett to stop going to the club long-term.

  Maybe something showed on her face, because Jessica ducked her head. “Brett has been talking to him, like man-to-man guy talk, because Gabe is so depressed. I think he’s—helping. That’s why we went back. Not to disrespect you.”

  Myka took a breath. “It doesn’t matter. And if he Googled me, he’s just curious. It’s a part of moving on. I mean, I Googled him too, to see him with his stupid fucking blond model girlfriend. And his horrible ex. I hate Rachel. I can’t get over her stupid fucking baby.”

  “You know it’s not his.”

  “How can I know that?” Myka argued, even though she did know. He’d already told her it wasn’t, and had DNA proof. But she felt like arguing.

  “Because if it was his, he’d be taking care of it. And when you say model, do you mean Flora?”

  “I guess. There are always pictures of him with her, all dressed up, going to galas. Things to which he never invited me, by the way.” She felt the bitter sting of that rejection anew.

  “Flora’s the co-chair of several foundations he started for donations, Myka. They’ve never been romantically linked. She’s with her long-time partner, some Italian car manufacturer, or something.”

  “Well, he could have told me that!” Myka tapped the bar. “He never did.”

  Jessica bit her lip. “I feel guilty about something. I need to tell you, but I’m worried you’ll be mad. Like, really mad. It’s why I needed to talk to you in person. I need you not to hate me for this.”

  “What? Just say it.” Myka looked up.

  Jessie fidgeted in her seat. “What I told you about Rachel? It wasn’t the truth. I found out what really happened. And I think that maybe it might be my fault that you—Oh, God. I’m hyperventilating.”

  “What?” Myka was confused. “How can it be that big a deal?”

  “Just listen. Brett told me. I demanded to know, and he finally spilled it all.” Jessie took a deep breath, held it, and let it out with a sigh.

  “With Gabriel and Rachel?” Myka’s heart pounded.

  “Yes. Gabe and Rachel were together a long time, and then Rachel cheated on him with—”

  “Stop.” Myka surprised herself with the force of her voice. “Just—stop. I can’t do this.”

  “But I need to tell you!” Jessie’s voice held a plea. “I messed up. It wasn’t at all like I told you in the bathroom at the bar, remember, when we first went out for drinks?”

  “Yes, I do remember.” Myka agreed. “And I want to hear it. But—not from you. I need to hear it from him. And if I don’t hear it from him, then I don’t want it at all. Jessie, part of the reason Gabriel and I didn’t work out is because we kept huge secrets from each other, you know? This is—more of that. And I can’t do it. Not anymore.”

  She felt a tear rolling down her cheek and brushed it roughly.

  Jessie’s face was startled. “I don’t understand,” she protested. “Why—”

  “It’s killing me not to know,” admitted Myka. “But it kills me more that I hear it from anyone but him. I’m sick of hearing you talk about him, I’m sorry, but it’s true. And that fucking bitch Belline. And even Lili and Dax. I want to hear about him from him.” She shook her head.

  Jessie had tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to ruin things! Myka, please.”

  “Oh, Jessie.” Myka’s voice cracked and she grabbed Jessie’s hand. “You didn’t ruin anything. You don’t have that kind of power over our relationship. Gabriel and I did that all on our own. It means a lot to me that you want to help. I just can’t hear it. I’m still your friend. I promise.”

  Jessie’s voice held a quiver, too. “Do you mean it? Because I really like you. I don’t want to lose your friendship because of my gossipy tongue. I talk too much, but I only want to help.”

  Myka shook her head. “Knowing more details about Gabriel wouldn’t change anything. It’s too late. It’s one more thing he didn’t trust me with. And that was the problem all along.”

  Jessie took a deep breath. “Maybe you can ask him about it? Give him another chance?”

  “Another chance to humiliate me? No. Besides, he hasn’t even asked for a chance.”

  “Look, you still love him, right?” Jessie’s voice was low.

  “Yes. I still love him. I can’t turn that off because I’m angry and broken. I kept staying and putting up with his shit, Jessie, for so long, because I loved him. It would all be worth it in the end, is what I kept believing. But after a while I realized that the end was not coming, at least not the one I dreamt of. And it made all of my suffering along the way useless. So I finally decided to cut my losses. I needed a new philosophy.”

  Jessica argued, “You’ve already put in so much time. So why not give one last effort? If you have any doubt at all, check it before you wipe the slate clean. Pain will eventually end. But the not knowing, that can eat you up forever. I mean, yeah. He’s stupid, and he was an asshole and a shit. He made bad choices. But I think underneath it, he’s fundamentally a good person. And sometimes good people do stupid things. If you still love each other, maybe there’s a way to fix things?”

  Myka responded, “I’m the one who felt the love, Jessie. He says he never did. And without love, there’s no point.”

  * * *

  The next week, Myka got a call from the attorney, Alexandra, asking her to come to an urgent mediation meeting. She was shocked to find Gabriel there too, as well as Christopher and several other lawyers.

  “What is this?” she asked, looking around the room. Gabriel’s face lit up when he saw her. “Myka!” he exclaimed, rushing to her and reaching out, then pulling his arm back. “It’s good to see you.” Myka drew back and his face dropped.

  “Let’s get started,” said her attorney, with a grim glance around the room. “We’ve discovered that the article in Gossip Rage and the text messages sent to Myka’s coworkers were the work of Kylee Miranda, otherwise known as Margaret Bray. Christopher is here with Margaret Bray’s lawyer.”

  “Kylee did this?” Myka was shocked.

  Christopher’s eyes were bloodshot. “It’s… complicated. This is confidential, right?” At the attorney’s nod, Christopher continued. “So. Well.” He coughed and drank some water. “I’ve been
a friend of the Bray family for years. I know them because I managed other bands in the town where Maggie—Kylee grew up. She was a great kid, Myka. Sweet, nice, fun. And when her songs got popular, the whole town was proud.”

  Myka pursed her mouth. “Get to the part where she writes the text, Christopher.” Her hands trembled in her lap.

  “Yes, I’m trying—so. When she started changing her image, she fell apart. She was hospitalized for a while. Her mother was terrified that Kylee would go off across the country and fall apart. So she told Kylee that she needed to hire me as her manager, and part of my job was to manage Kylee’s doctor’s appointments.”

  Myka burst in, angry. “So she already had a doctor? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Yes, she had a doctor. It was a hell of a thing too, trying to get her to go to appointments and take her meds. I had to schedule our trips around her treatment. Sometimes she was compliant. Other times she wanted to get free of the meds, flush them all, and then she’d start to have her panic attacks and paranoid delusions. And when that happened, she’d go nuts trying to get her hands on different stuff to help calm down.”

  Myka’s voice broke. “You should have told me! I was trying to help her with breathing exercises, for Christ’s sake.” She shook her head in surprise and disgust.

  Christopher’s voice was dismal. “I was legally, contractually forbidden from doing so.”

  Myka put her hands out in supplication, although to whom, she had no idea. “So she was the one who did the—article? The photos?”

  Christopher nodded slowly. “She was having such a hard time with anxiety, and I believe you probably did help her, for a while. But when your ideas stopped working, and you had interests outside of her little world, she got angry and paranoid. She hired a private investigator to follow you.”

  Gabriel cut in. “How did you find this out?”

  “I searched her room one day, looking for medication,” Christopher said flatly. “I was frantic because her behavior got so erratic. I found folders full of reports. I read her journal.” He swallowed hard. “I had no idea how troubled she really was. She felt like her career was going to be destroyed because she was falling apart, she blamed you for not being able to hold her together, and she decided to destroy your life, too.”

  Myka sucked in her breath. “God. That’s sick.” Gabriel took her hand and squeezed.

  Christopher pleaded, “But she’s not a bad person, Myka, she’s ill. She’s a good girl, she’s just not thinking right these days, and I—”

  The attorney for Kylee interrupted. “So we’d like to leave Kylee’s name out of this entirely. Basically, as a rep for the Margaret Bray and family, we want to help clear any issues that were created, but without implicating Kylee.”

  Myka glared at him. “On one condition. That Kylee gets the help she needs. And I mean real medical support. Not some helpless IT engineer or a useless manager who can’t stay on top of things.” Her voice was bitter.

  Christopher’s voice was just as morose. “She’s getting it. Her mother flew in after I contacted her, and she’s already received medical guardianship. Kylee’s taking a vacation from the tour, as far as the public knows, to rest overtaxed vocal cords. But she’ll be in a private facility getting treatment. The best in the world.” He added in a higher pitch, “This wasn’t my fault, you know. I wish you had told me just once some actual details about her panic attacks! About the fog shit. Why did you keep doing stuff for her and not tell me?”

  Myka’s voice rose as well. “She asked me to keep it private, threatened to sue me if I talked. Besides, I had no idea that she had a doctor or had this history. The only thing you ever said to me was butt out, pay attention to my backstage shit. That you could manage everything. If anything, this is your fault. Don’t you dare try to put this on me!” She was livid.

  Gabriel broke in with, “This isn’t either of your fault,” earning furious stares from both Christopher and Myka.

  Christopher sniffed. “If it’s not our fault, is it her mother’s fault?” He licked his cracked lips. “It’s her fault. Kylee’s fault.”

  Myka shook her head. “It’s nobody’s fault, and everyone’s fault. A completely miserable situation where we all thought we knew best for long-term success, and didn’t tell the truth to each other, and didn’t work together. And our lies of omission ended up in a nightmare for me. For her. For us.” She looked at Gabriel, and the tenderness and compassion in his eyes brought her to tears.

  Christopher cut in. “It’s a total nightmare for me. I’m going to be fired, and this tour is a shambles, and we’re hemorrhaging money. It’s my career that’s in the toilet over this. And Kylee, God only knows what will happen with her. I don’t know if she’ll ever perform again. She’s living her own nightmare.” He sounded near tears. “She’s not a bad person at heart, you know. When she wakes up, she’s going to hate herself.”

  Gabriel’s voice was cutting. “It’s a nightmare for all of us, but it can be fixed. Kylee’s getting the help she needs, which is critical. And what exactly is going to be done to make amends for smearing my name and Myka’s?”

  The Gossip Rage attorney spoke. “We’ll print a full retraction and apology, stating that we received false information from a malicious prankster.”

  Gabriel nodded. “It’s not perfect, but it will work.”

  “And you’ll all sign a document stating that you won’t disclose any of this information about Kylee that was discussed today,” added Kylee’s attorney, “and you will each receive a financial settlement for your pain and suffering.” He passed over checks, and both Myka and Gabriel raised their eyebrows, as did the Gossip Rage rep.

  After all the confidentiality and settlement agreements were signed, the lawyers left. Gabriel walked out with Myka. He took her hand. “You know I am sorry about—everything.”

  “I believe you. But it doesn’t make it all better.” Myka couldn’t look at him.

  “Myka,” he said roughly. “Can we meet to talk? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and soul-searching this past month. There are some things I’ve figured out, and I need to say them to you. I can’t do it standing here. If you’ll give me an hour?”

  Myka thought about Jessie’s words; the not knowing being worse than the rejection. “Fine. An hour. Yes.”

  Gabriel led her to his car, and Myka flushed, remember previous rides in his leather seat. Gabriel drove them to a small gated park in a suburb that she’d never known about. “It’s a privately owned Japanese garden,” he explained. “A friend owns it. It’s usually appointment only.”

  The metal key was long and old-fashioned, and as he twisted it in the lock and the gate swung open, Myka gasped at the beauty. An elegantly shaped koi pond curved around and intertwined with gravel paths and sections of carefully sculpted trees and bushes. Brilliant flowers flowed in a tumult down a small slope toward a scenic bonsai garden, while lanterns and sculptures dotted the landscape.

  “Can we sit here?” Gabriel’s voice was tentative as he led her to a bench near the pond. Myka watched the koi swarming at the surface, their orange-and-white bodies tumbling over each other as they gaped at the surface for food.

  “They think we’re going to feed them,” she said, surprised.

  “Yes, they’re tenacious.” There was a pause. Gabriel took her hand, but didn’t look at her. “The past month has been hard on you. I admire how well you’re coping and thriving.” Myka didn’t respond, and he cleared his throat. “It’s been hard on me, too. I had a lot of time to think about—what happened between us, not only that last night, but all of it. And I did some soul-searching and faced some truths about myself.”

  Myka nodded noncommittally, biting her lower lip into her mouth. She didn’t speak.

  Gabriel offered, “First I want to say to you that I’m sorry. Je suis désolé.”

  Myka stiffened beside him. “Gabriel.”

  He kept going. “When we first met, I was intrigued. Yo
u were beautiful, smart, and witty. When we meshed so well sexually, it seemed perfect. But I was not ready for a real relationship, not sure I could love anyone again. I didn’t want to ever again give one person that much power over my emotions. So I kept our relationship simple—just physical pleasure. The truth is that I did love Rachel, and she cheated on me with more than one person—she was with Taylor and another dominant, too. And that broke me.”

  “With Taylor?” Myka’s voice rose and broke. “That’s why you were so upset to see me with him at the club.”

  “Yes.” His voice was dark. “She told him that I was pushing her too hard, past her limits, and he believed it. And at first I—I believed it, too. I was hard with her, Myka, harder than with you. But she liked it, wanted it, needed it. She did. I knew that. But hearing from another man that I’d broken her? It broke me that she could say that, and I worried that maybe—”

  He shook his head and tugged his hair. “Taylor came to my house looking to hurt me for hurting her, and she was there. It was then that she finally admitted it was a lie, she’d made it up. When Taylor demanded that she leave and go home with him, she said no. She’d been seeing a third man, and she moved away with him to his post-doc appointment in another state. I apparently never knew her. It was truly fucked up.”

  He sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and rubbed his eyes. “Rachel cheated for a long time, even while we discussed marriage. Everything I had with her was a complete lie—the love, even the submission. Because she gave it to other people too, behind my back. I thought I’d never trust anyone again, or at least not for a long time.”

  He swallowed. “The problem was that I fell for you, Myka, and couldn’t admit it. I was afraid to trust you and love you, because of what happened to me in my last relationship. I knew, deep down, that I wasn’t giving you what you deserved. And I was paranoid about not wanting to push you too hard. I mean, Rachel lied, but once the words are out there, people have a perception. And you were new. I never wanted to hurt you, not really. You understand that, don’t you?”