Lose Me: (New Adult Billionaire Romance) (Broken Idols)

by M. C. Frank

  ‘The other girls’ must be the ones I remember seeing on Wes’ yacht that day he fished me from the sea. They’re all blurry forms in my mind, the ‘bikini girls’, but I’ve recognize a few of them in the group of girls Elle is always walking around with; she’s even brought over two of her friends from LA to ‘hang out when she’s not shooting’. So she could be talking about anyone, basically.

  Wes seems to know which girls she means, though, because his expression turns sour.

  “Waiting for me?” He looks uncomfortable and I’m fighting the urge to tap my foot. “Why on earth would they—?”

  “Come on!” Elle squeals in his ear. “We’ve been looking all over for you! Where did you hide? Ollie promised us a movie night, only he had to go somewhere. He said you’d fill in for him, no problem. It’s almost starting!”

  “Look, Elle,” he says, raking a hand through his hair, “I’m kind of in the middle of something here. . . ”

  “Oh hey there, you!” She pretends she’s just noticed me. Wes tugs her away, but she walks over to me, smiling that smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “How did the puke girl end up in this part of town? What is she doing here?”

  She says it as though no one else has the right to be ‘in this part of town’ except herself and whoever she approves of. She says it as though the very ground belongs to her. I suppose she’s used to thinking that way.

  But ‘puke girl’? I didn’t puke that night at Drops, at least not until I got home. Unless she means the time I almost drowned and then threw up water all over the M&M. . .

  “Hey, I know!” She turns to Wes. “She should come too, don’t you think? She’d love to meet the girls, they’re your friends, too—”

  Wes grabs her by the waist and whisks her away.

  “What are you doing?” He hisses at her. I think I’m going to leave. “Ari, wait!” He calls to me, but he’s still looking at her. “I’m not doing this anymore, you understand? I’m so done. Just go.”

  She pouts. “You promised, Wes. You know I need you, you know how I get when you leave me alone. . .”

  Wes steps away from her, and takes a deep breath. “Elle, we’ve been over this,” he tells her in a low, strangled voice. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

  “Not doing what?” she asks, lifting up her eyes at him. She raises her voice, looking directly at me. “I’m just telling you, we’re all waiting for you. If puke girl here—”

  “Did you just say ‘puke girl’?” I interrupt, taking two steps forward. I tower over Elle’s head, and she starts to look scared. “Twice? Who do you think you—?”

  “I got this,” Wes cuts me off. He looks in my general direction, but he doesn’t meet my eyes.

  I try to give him a chance before storming away, I mean after all he didn’t say we were on a date, and acted like a friend and nothing more the whole time, but still. . . What was all the ‘say-my-name-again’ deal?

  “As I was saying,” Elle says to Wes, pretending I didn’t speak at all, “if that’s your only problem, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come along.” She turns to me, swaying a bit. I stare her down, but pretty soon I realize it’s no use. Her eyes have that glazed look in them; she’s been drinking. “You know, you should totally join in, we’ve been talking about which of the cast Wes has fooled around with. You can tell us about how he was with you, or even better, maybe he’ll give us a demonstration. . . ” She giggles, turns to Wes.

  He shuts his eyes for a second, clamping his lips.

  “I mean, it won’t be the first time Wes has had more than one girl w—”

  “Elle, come on now.” His voice sounds strange, unfamiliar. “Enough.”

  She juts out a hip and cocks her head. “Oh? What are you going to do to me?” she purrs.

  “Nothing. Ari can kick your butt much better than I ever could.” He laughs, nodding towards me.

  A snort escapes me and Elle turns towards me, her expression going openly hostile.

  “What are you laughing at?” she hisses at me. “You need to leave us alone.”

  “You need to stop” Wes hisses.

  “Oh, I’m not supposed to talk to her now?” She turns to him. “I’ve got a few things she’d love to hear. Come on, Amy,” she says to me. Doing that pretending-I’ve-forgotten-your-name thing. “Wanna hang out on Spencer’s yacht? All the girls are there already, we’ve got a few stories to tell you about your boyfriend’s girlfriends over the years.”

  I feel my cheeks burning. Wes just clenches his jaw, saying nothing. I can’t believe she called him ‘my boyfriend’ like that, in front of him. I’ve never been more mortified in my life. I’ve had enough. I start walking towards her, flexing my muscles. Her mouth hangs open, and she just stands there, looking ready to barf.

  “Just stop,” Wes mutters, but it’s not clear who he’s saying it to.

  And then, before I even realize what’s going on, he moves quickly and gets in front of Elle, blocking her from my sight, his back to me. He says it again, louder:

  “Stop talking, okay? Fine, I’ll go, come on.” It comes out in a rough voice, through gritted teeth. He grabs her arm again, and they walk away. Her steps falter once or twice, but he keeps walking on, almost dragging her along. They disappear into the night, side by side, Elle’s heels clack-clacking on the pavement.

  He doesn’t even turn to look at me as he leaves. I see his hand, clenched tightly in a fist behind his back, his knuckles white, his muscles rippling.

  And that’s it.

  texts

  Wes: You’re so dead, Binge.

  Ollie: what d I do now?

  Wes: Why did you have to go and set El loose on me?

  Ollie: didn’t set anything, I’m at Roda.

  Wes: WTH is Roda?

  Ollie: It’s a wicked beach in the north

  Wes: Been sightseeing, have we?

  Ollie: is there any reason why I shouldn’t?

  Wes: Don’t know, maybe the fact that you’d said we could meet for drinks tonight?

  Ollie: Dude I told you, I’m not doing that w you anymore.

  Wes: It wouldn’t be just me. Ari, too. You’d want to have drinks with her, I’d bet. Oh, and according to El, you’d promised her and the ‘girls’ that you’d spend the night on the L&H, watching movies. . . ? Ring any bells?

  Ollie: Oh maan.

  Wes: Yep. So I’m in here now with them.

  Ollie: nonononono hahaha

  Wes: Don’t laugh, man, you ruined my life.

  Ollie: LOLOLOLOLOL

  Wes: They came looking for me Ols. She. . . I was in the middle of something.

  Ollie: I’m intrigued now, Darce

  Wes: SOS

  Ollie: what or may I say, whom, were you doing?

  Wes: Seriously. Save me.

  Ollie: soz, man. My bad. My ride is not going anywhere for at least eight hrs. . .

  Wes: Why?

  Ollie: cause right now she’s on her eleventh vodka

  Wes: She?! Oh, you’re definitely dead. Who is she?

  Ollie: Can’t remember her name rn. But she’s cute. Kinda. Not yr type.

  Wes: Get serious for a sec, what do I do now? HELP

  Ollie: I’m really sorry. I messed up big time.

  Wes: I thought we had specifically spoken about this, about me and El. I’m not doing this anymore. I won’t have her dragging me into her drama, threatening to take pills if I don’t do what she says and

  Ollie: Not again.

  Wes: Yes, again. Wanted to tell her to eff off, but Ari was there and she has a low enough opinion of me already.

  Wes: You were supposed to save me.

  Ollie: I know, I know, I know, sorry sorry sorry. Tell them u need to sleep, they’ll leave.

  Wes: Yeah, right. She kept insinuating that there were ex-girlfriends of mine on the boat. It was disgusting. And now she keeps staring at me. Two of the extras she’s invited are staring as well. I hate this.

  Ollie: u didn’t always hate it


  Wes: Always hated it, just didn’t know I did until now. Have any ideas?

  Ollie: Dunno, just say you want to be alone w one of the girls. That’ll empty the boat fast, and get Elle off your back.

  Wes: I don’t want to do that.

  Ollie: Not like you’ve never done it before.

  Wes: I don’t want to do it now, though, ok?

  Ollie: Dude, I know you. Shouldn’t be too hard.

  Wes: Know what? You just shut up, Ollie. Shut up, ok? I mean it.

  seven

  I wake up on the floor.

  I lift my head off the cool linoleum and gaze dazedly about. The darkness is complete; it must be the middle of the night. A wave of nausea hits me before I’ve even opened my eyes properly and I make it to the bathroom just in time.

  Dad comes rushing when he hears me being sick, but I wave if off as a stomach bug.

  Now I’m actively lying to him. Great.

  He goes downstairs to help pappou and yiayia close the shop, his frown still in place. I go back to my room and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes. I feel the tears roll down my cheeks and wipe them angrily away. As I expected, grandpa comes racing up as soon as he hears the news about the ‘stomach bug’.

  “How is my little kouklitsa?” he asks me, calling me a little doll in Greek, but his eyes are sad.

  I just stare up at him and begin to cry in dry, wrecking sobs.

  He grabs a chair and sits next to my bed. He takes my hand in his calloused ones and we cry together. Neither of us says anything. There’s no need.

  “Yiayia is going to cook you some soup, all right?” he tells me as he leaves, wiping his eyes.

  I just nod. I can’t speak, I’m so exhausted.

  Dad comes up to kiss me goodnight, his eyes scared and his lips grim. That’s what I hate most about this whole thing. I decide I’ll wait one more day before telling him. I don’t have the energy for it right now.

  He sits with me and we talk nonsense until my eyelids droop and then he shuts the door softly behind him. Still, I can’t fall asleep. I keep thinking of Wes.

  And of her. Will she even care when it happens?

  I’m so pathetic.

  At twelve thirty my phone beeps. I pick it up from my nightstand and flick it open lazily, expecting a text from Katia. And. . . it’s Wes.

  Wes: Is there anything I can say to explain my behavior to you today?

  I have half a mind to ignore him, but only half. The other half is already typing.

  Me: Is there? Let’s see

  Wes: Ah, you’re mad.

  Wes: Listen, I just needed to get her away from. . . From you. That’s all I could focus on.

  Me:…

  Wes: Ari, dammit, I’m so sorry I left you there. It kinda. . . It gutted me to leave you and go with her.

  Me: then why did u?

  Wes: I panicked, Ari. Didn’t know what to. . . I’ve never had to deal with someone good coming into the mess of my life. And I blew it.

  Wes: I just wanted to get her away from you, she. . .She wouldn’t have budged until she’d destroyed everything. She was saying all this stupid stuff about me in front of you, I couldn’t stand it. She has a history of ruining things for me when I’m into a girl. I mean, back then in Drops, with your drink. . . I knew it was my fault in a way, because of that time on the L&H, when you almost. . . when I was so worried about you. She was there, she saw that. In the past, she’s gone to great lengths, even threatening suicide and other messed-up stuff to get me to do what she wants. To keep me close to her.

  Me: . . .

  Wes: And then the other day at the shoot we were eating and I just wanted to sit next to you and she said those vile things. I can’t even think about what she said, and she can do worse. She’ll start telling you things about me that would make you hate me.

  Me: …

  Wes: It was bloody stupid to just walk away, I know, but I didn’t want her to think I cared about you. She started saying stuff about me and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let her say anything else. I had to get her out of your face.

  Me: is that for real?

  Wes: You don’t believe me?

  Me: having a hard time

  Wes: You have no reason to trust me, do you? Except the fact that I’m always apologizing, I’ve got nothing going for me here. I actually think you might hate me.

  Me: I don’t hate u

  Wes: But?

  Me: but can I trust u?

  Wes: Yes.

  Wes: Yes.

  Wes: Yes.

  Me: k

  Wes: You really mean that?

  Wes: Just so you know, what she said, about me and all these girls, she was exaggerating, it’s not true, not all of it, she

  Me: Stop. That’s none of my business

  Wes: I want it to be your business.

  I don’t know what to type in response to that, so I don’t write anything. Ten minutes pass. I pick my phone up again.

  Me: Wes? U there?

  Wes: Yep.

  Me: is what u said b4 true?

  Wes: ?

  Me: r u

  Wes: Am I what?

  Me: r u. . . into me?

  Wes: Hell, yeah.

  Me: I thought u said u wanted to be friends.

  Wes: Yeah, that too.

  Wes: So, what do you say?

  Me: k

  Wes: Would you stop it with that k already

  Me: I’ll try

  Wes: It’s so confusing, you know? What did it mean? Was that ‘k, we’ll be friends’, ‘k, I like that you’re into me’ or ‘k, you’re a bit of a jerk, and I’ll say whatever you want so I can get rid of you’?

  I can’t help it; I burst out laughing. Overthinking much? Not that I’m not doing the same. Darn it.

  Me: just ok, we’re cool

  Wes: In that case will you spend some time with me tomorrow?

  Wes: Please?

  Me: u don’t have to make it up to me.

  Wes: So no?

  Me: so I’ll think abt it.

  Wes: Great! Pick u up at 8, your place.

  Me: 8 in the evening? And I haven’t said yes yet

  Wes: 8 in the morning, Phelps. There are only 24 hours in a day, and not nearly enough.

  Me: enough 4 what?

  Wes: You’ll see

  Me: listen, Wes, u’re a great guy, but

  Wes: No.

  Wes: nononononononono

  Wes: I’m leaving before you say anything else.

  Me: I don’t have time 4 a summer. . . thing

  Wes: Me neither. Besides, it’s not summer.

  Me: Wes, srsly

  Wes: I know. Look, you’ll tell me everything you need to tomorrow. I promise I’ll listen to you. I just need to see you, to get to know you. I shouldn’t have said that I was into you, I don’t want to scare you, so forget it, would you?

  Me: I’ll forget it if that’s what u want, but. . . already halfway there, if u must know

  Wes:. . .

  Wes:. . .

  Wes:. . .

  Me: aren’t u gonna say anything?

  Wes: c u tomorrow.

  Me: that all?

  Wes: Have u read page 133 yet?

  Me: yeah, but I don’t remember what it said.

  Wes: Well, read it again. There’s something you need to know in there.

  Me: fine. Goodnight.

  Wes: Night, baby. x

  He sent me a kiss is what I think over and over again until I finally fall asleep.

  ◊◊◊

  When I wake up the next day, my headache is worse.

  I call Wes to tell him not to come and his voice sounds all happy and out-of-breath as he picks up.

  “Can’t wait to see me, huh?” he says. “I’m outside.”

  “And I’m sick,” I tell him.

  “Open your door, would you?” he replies, unabated. “I can’t find where to ring.”

  So I get up in my pajama shorts and spaghetti strap top to buzz him in. I c
an’t even think about how my hair looks. I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and I find a note from dad telling me to stay in and that grandpa and grandma will be checking in on me, and also to ‘CALL him immediately if I feel WORSE’. And hugs.

  Then I almost pass out again, so I drag myself to my room, hands leaning heavily on the walls as I walk, worried that I’ll stumble and fall. I flop back onto the bed, gasping in pain.

  And that’s the precise moment Wes chooses to walk in the door, calling my name, as though he’s been looking for me through the various rooms of our apartment. Perfect.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Stomach bug,” I whisper, not daring to look up to him. I look—and feel—a mess. No need to see the expression of disgust on his face. “Sorry,” I add, trying to sound normal. “You should go.”