by India Lee
“Oh.” Eyes fluttering, Amanda realized that she had been thinking so intensely about her lead on Casey that she hadn’t paid any attention to Liam’s whereabouts. “I guess,” she answered Harper with a little smile so as to look halfway convincing though it probably didn’t because right at that moment, Amanda’s phone vibrated with another text from Ian.
Weird. Other than some school article about being in the marching band there is just this super old local article about a kid who was hospitalized after falling off a ledge at some lake in Missouri. Says kid was a boy, age 8. Doesn’t mention any names in it though so not sure why it comes up when I Google ‘Jake Tatum.’
Before Amanda could respond to the text, Ian followed up.
Comments section. First comment says [Deleted due to privacy infringement]. Maybe it said his name and that’s why this article still pops up when you Google ‘Jake Tatum.’ They probably deleted it because they’re not supposed to release names of victims who are minors.
Amanda pumped her fist.
Sounds about right. Forgot that you know randomly useful things. It was only after sending her text that Amanda realized the context of Ian’s information. If it was right, Jake had been through something awful as a child that she probably shouldn’t be pumping her fist over.
“Girl, stop texting,” Harper finally said as she sipped on one of her bottles of coconut water. “You have a work party to pretend you’re enjoying. And I can tell you where your boy is anyway — he’s right over there.”
Looking up, Amanda watched Harper nod toward the bar. As Amanda’s eyes moved to look in that direction, she froze with brief surprise, picking up the dozens of curious stares on her along the way.
“Yeah, everyone’s been watching you two since we came into the room. You were just too busy texting to notice,” Harper said as Amanda’s eyes finally found Liam’s. He involuntarily wet his lips when she met his gaze, which pierced through her from across the room. Amanda gave him the subtlest shake of the head and just as she unlocked her phone to let him know that his stare was too obvious, it vibrated in her hand. The text from Liam anticipated her scolding.
Sorry. I miss you and you look too good for me to just watch tonight.
Reading Liam’s message, Amanda felt herself smile but she bit it back upon reminding herself that she was being watched. She gave herself a half second to look up at Liam and take in his fitted black suit, skinny tie and stubble before replying.
You look good yourself. But did I just see one of Terrence’s assistants standing next to you and Connor? Is he your unofficial babysitter?
“What’s up with the friend?” Harper asked under her breath, squinting at Connor. “He’s so angry-looking,” she murmured just as Liam’s response came.
I’m assuming so. And I was determined to lose him even before I saw you and decided to book us a room.
Amanda raised her eyebrows, sneaking a glance at Liam. Instead, with Liam facing the bar, she caught Connor’s stony glare as he took a swig of his beer.
“Christ,” she whispered to herself before replying to Liam’s text.
“He’s watching you through the mirror behind the bar,” Harper said quietly before smiling and greeting an approaching group of friends. They were led by a TV actress whom Amanda vaguely recognized thanks to her curly, asymmetrical bob. After making introductions, Amanda sent her text message, deftly maintaining conversation while keeping an eye on Liam.
Presumptuous. What if I were too exhausted from work to meet you in a room? Amanda smirked as she read her own text but her face immediately softened with a bit of guilt as she read Liam’s response.
Exhaustion is the other reason I booked the room. Cortisone injections help but the ankle needs a break and would prefer it to be with you.
There was a second of a break before the second text delivered.
Also, Connor tells me that as far as doing work, you’ve got nothing to be exhausted over.
Upon reading it, Amanda turned to shoot daggers at Liam through the mirror though she reminded herself that he didn’t yet know what a sore subject Connor was, being unaware of their blowup from the night before. Narrowing her gaze at his crooked smirk, she flicked away an errant lock of hair from her eyes, giving a tiny shake of her head while ignoring the additional stare through the mirror that she was receiving from Connor.
Speaking of your friend, maybe you should tell him to drop the watchdog act. You already have one babysitter.
Liam smirked and threw back the rest of his scotch before running a hand across the top of his head and turning around to lean against the bar, his weight leaning slightly more on his stronger ankle and his eyes feasting unapologetically on Amanda.
“Girl,” was all Harper said.
Amanda could only manage a bit-back grin as her phone buzzed once again.
Be nice, Connor’s our accomplice. Room is booked under his name.
Amanda’s eyebrows shot up with surprise. Connor offered to book us a hotel room?
Offer wouldn’t be the word but I got him to do it. He knows how damned tired I am.
Amanda gave a slight pout. You shouldn’t have come tonight, Liam. You need rest.
I just need to fall asleep in the same bed as you tonight. Meet me in the room. Connor’s in the lobby. He has your key.
Amanda stared at the final text, the mention of Connor zapping any tingle of excitement that had been building for the rendezvous. She tried to ignore it and brave the fact that she’d first have to deal with him before being rewarded with Liam.
“I need to use the restroom. Come with me, Amanda?” Interrupting her thoughts was Harper’s voice in her ear and hand on her wrist. “Excuse us, ladies.”
Once they were in the main hall, Harper tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking at her nails.
“I don’t need to pee, just figured you needed an excuse to bail. Meeting your man?” she asked.
“Yes. But going through a middle man first,” Amanda said, her eyes on a wooden Connor who stood by an empty coat check across the dimly lit lobby. Harper peered over at him.
“He doesn’t look too happy about his job.”
“He isn’t,” Amanda snorted as she extended her cheek for Harper to kiss goodbye.
Holding her own face to a blank expression, she listened to the sound of Harper’s heels clicking away and back into the party as her own brought her closer to an all but scowling Connor as he leaned against the coat check counter.
“This wasn’t my idea, in case you hadn’t figured that out,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his navy blue suit.
“I came to that assumption pretty early,” Amanda said, holding her palm out for the key. “I’m smart and cunning, remember?”
Connor ignored her as he dropped the rectangular card in her hand. “Slick move in Nebraska, by the way,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“Visit the guy, get him excited, drive him crazy. Take a flight back out before he wakes up — drive him a little crazier.”
Heat flared in Amanda’s cheeks. What the hell, Liam. Way to tell this asshole literally everything, she thought with irritation. “Connor, you’re really starting to reach here,” she said in as controlled a voice as she could manage before turning on her high heel and stalking off toward the elevators. His footsteps followed.
“No, I’m really handing it to you,” Connor said with a sarcastic lilt in his voice. “You know how to drive a guy insane. Keep him wrapped around that pinky of yours so he can’t see how you’ve only brought drama and shit into his life since coming into it.”
Amanda clenched her muscles, willing herself not to spin around and give Connor a reaction. She continued walking, jabbing her finger into the ‘Up’ button once she reached the row of private access elevators designated for the highest floors of the building. She silently cursed them for not immediately arriving and she silently cursed the smugness that she could feel radiating from Connor as he stood behind her.
“What I’d want from you? In a perfect world?” Connor repeated, taking a step closer to Amanda with a smirk curling his lips. He ran a hand through his medium-length hair, pretending to think. “Oh, for you to be far away from New York. Back in Missouri, maybe. But if I can’t have that, I’ll settle for you staying away from Liam before you cause any more of your signature drama and bullshit.”
Amanda tried to suppress her sneer but it didn’t quite work. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but we’re actually broken up to the world so you have half your wish already.”
“Well, I want the other half.”
Ding. The elevator door opened as Amanda squinted at Connor.
“Break up with him,” he said, shrugging with his hands still in his pockets. “Like, actually break up. Free the guy. Go find some other actor to leech fame off of. I’m sure you can do it.”
Amanda stared, silent as she held the elevator door open. She tried to read his expression, her eyes scanning his grey ones for any hint of a joke or a test. But they looked as genuine as she had ever seen them on her.
“Why can’t you just believe me when I say that I love Liam?” she finally asked.
His answer came quickly. “Because you don’t feel bad about the hell you’re putting him through. You’ll do anything to survive here, to stretch out your time in the spotlight. You made a joke out of the hardest role he’s had in his career. You’ve got Terrence torturing him just to make up for the embarrassment you caused everyone.” He cocked his head curiously, a deep frown knitting his dark blonde brows. “How many stitches and bruises and sprains and limps is he going to need to show you before you decide you’re done fucking around with him? What, you need to put him through just one more scandal so you can take away all his future jobs too? Go back to Dylan Hardy at that point, maybe?”
Amanda felt her jaw tighten as she slid her room key into the elevator slot to access the penthouse floor. “Forget it,” she muttered, deciding against another attempt at arguing, at convincing Connor that she actually felt an odd physical pain in her own body whenever she knew Liam was hurting himself. There was no telling him anything. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Connor. But I’m not even surprised anymore,” she said as she held down the ‘Door Close’ button.
“I know that he’s a thousand times better off without you.”
“Whatever you say,” Amanda muttered as her finger began jabbing impatiently at the elevator button. But Connor managed the last word before the doors fully shut.
“And I know for sure that you’re not done causing trouble yet but I’d love for you to prove me wrong.”
~
The slick, mirrored black elevator to the penthouse floor of Metropolis was eerily quiet and just as dimly lit as the rest of the hotel. As it slowed to a stop around the fiftieth floor, Amanda felt a chill go down her spine. She paused, trying to determine if she were just feeling the delayed effects of Connor’s words.
“You’re not done causing trouble yet. Not even close.”
He wasn’t exactly wrong about that considering her intentions to get back at Casey in whatever way possible. But that had nothing to do with Liam, so it didn’t count. Right?
Staring at the lit ‘P’ button that she had pressed, Amanda frowned as the elevator fully stopped at the fifty-first floor. She ran her hands up and down her arms as she waited for something to happen next — hopefully, for the elevator to keep moving and take her to the penthouse. Instead, the doors slowly opened. And in stepped a man in a black button-up shirt and black slacks. Amanda’s lips for some reason refused to return the smile he flashed her as he made his way into the corner of the elevator, where he stood with his hands folded before him.
“Floor?” she finally asked as the doors closed, peering at him through the reflection in the mirrored doors. The man lifted his eyes from her shoes and dress before smiling and giving a shake of the head. So… no floor. What the hell?
As the doors closed, Amanda felt another odd tingle go up her spine. Maybe he’s waiting for the elevator to go down, she reasoned with herself as she hallucinated — hopefully — the man’s body inching closer to hers. But there are like, six elevators, why wouldn’t he just wait another two seconds for one going down?
“I like your dress.”
Promptly frozen by his voice, Amanda felt only her eyes moving as they darted while staring forward. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked. She willed the red floor numbers to climb faster already, realizing at this point that she wasn’t hallucinating a thing.
Because somehow, the man had migrated enough to stand directly next to her, just a half foot behind. She could hear him breathing and with another darting glance into the reflective doors, saw the glint of his toothy smile as his stare dropped down to her legs. Her skin suddenly prickly and cold, Amanda stood more still than a statue, her eyes wide and unblinking, her breath held in her tensed throat.
Oh God, thank God.
The second the elevator reached the penthouse floor, Amanda’s feet carried her as forward as possible without forcing her to kiss the mirrored doors. Knowing well that he was staring at her, she tried not to look into the reflection at the strange man behind her.
But she couldn’t help it. He smiled at her while stroking his short, sandy beard. “I’m an even bigger fan of your shoes,” he said, reaching forward to tickle her palm with his long fingernail, sending an immediate shudder of revulsion through Amanda’s whole body.
“Don’t touch me,” she muttered, snatching her hand up and giving a smack of the glass doors with it. “God, open,” she muttered urgently, the back of her eyes tingling with panic as she stared at her heeled feet in the mirror, willing the man’s sneakered ones to stay exactly where they were. They didn’t.
“You got anyone with you in that penthouse tonight?”
She could feel his breath on her neck now, raising all the hairs so they stood straight. Jesus. Amanda ignored him though her open palm gave another smack of the mirror before her. Open, damn it, please.
“I hope you do.”
Just as she felt him touch hair, the doors parted. With a gasp, Amanda fell out onto her knees, barely realizing how hard she’d been pressed against them till she was on all fours. It wasn’t until she scrambled to her feet that she realized one of her nude leather pumps had come off. Backing up and peering into through the doors doors, her chest heaving with all the breath she’d been holding, Amanda watched the strange man pick it up.
“Thank you,” he said with a laugh, right before the doors fully shut.
“What the fuck,” Amanda breathed, her heart pounding, her palms and her back pressed against the wall behind her.
Before she knew it, she was pounding on the door to Liam’s room, all the while staring over her shoulder to make sure the elevator didn’t stop at the floor once again. Once again, the moment Liam opened the door in his untucked, halfway unbuttoned shirt and pants, Amanda fell in. He laughed as he easily caught her.
“What the — what’s going on?” he asked. His smile dropped the second his eyes processed the look on Amanda’s face and the single shoe on her foot. “Amanda, what the hell happened?”
“I’m sorry,” Amanda breathed, trying to catch her breath as he helped her to her feet.
“Don’t apologize, tell me what happened,” Liam urged sternly, his brows knitting as his eyes traveled downward and caught the sight of her shaking legs. “What the hell?” he whispered to himsel
f with a deep frown. Picking her up, he carried her into the bedroom, setting her body gently onto the buttery sheets of the bed. Holding her chin in his hand, Liam tried to keep her darting eyes on him. “Baby, tell me what happened.” His voice was gentle now. When she didn’t immediately answer, he tried a different approach. “Where’s your other shoe?” he asked, managing a little laugh as he touched her bare foot. Amanda’s quivering lips did their best to form a sentence that wasn’t too inflammatory.
“It fell off when I ran out and he took it.” Yeah, good job with that phrasing. “Liam!”
He was out the door before she could stop him. Wobbly on her uneven legs, Amanda kicked off her remaining heel before chasing him down, managing to catch him at the front door of the suite. With every ounce of her strength, she pulled him back, using her bare foot to kick the door shut. Breathlessly pressing herself against it, she shot him a look.
“What were you going to do, Liam? Chase a random guy down and kick his ass? You don’t even know what this guy looked like.” Her chest heaving, Amanda took the next few seconds to catch her breath. “You can’t react like this. This is against Terrence’s contract, too,” she finally said, her voice small but at least steady again. She looked up at Liam.
“Who was in the elevator, Amanda? Tell me what happened,” he demanded. “You can’t run in here like this and say what you said and expect me not to worry.”
It was a fair enough point.
“Who was in the elevator, Amanda, tell me.”
Swallowing with guilt, Amanda heaved a breath, her posture slumping against the door. Liam held her up by the waist. “I think it was someone who’s been following me,” she exhaled. Jesus, Amanda. Again with the phrasing.
“Following you?” Liam’s eyebrows shot up, an immediate flicker of rage in his eye. Amanda felt his hands tighten around her, tense. She put her palms over his, easing him or at least trying to.
“Not… following me, just… he’s a paparazzo.”
“A paparazzo.”