No doubt, the heating/cooling people would get here before she got back and fix the thermostat she had tampered with earlier this morning. So much for that idea. Hannah decided not to let her perfectly constructed plan go to total waste. Francesca could wait a few minutes. It wasn’t as if she was planning to go anywhere anyways. Reaching into her glass of water, Hannah plucked out an ice cube and headed over to Willow’s office.
Although she hadn’t intended to be particularly stealthy, Willow jumped when she felt the frozen cube slide against the back of her neck and down her shoulders.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought this might help,” Hannah explained as she used her fingertip to sashay the piece of ice across Willow’s skin.
“Hmm, yeah,” Willow mumbled while sitting up very straight and tall. Although she had grown accustomed to Hannah’s little touches, this felt a little more erotic and a little less friendly, especially when she leaned over her shoulder and the melting cube danced across the curve of her breasts. Her skin prickled with goose bumps.
“You always get so lost when you work. I wish I could peek inside your mind,” Hannah murmured as she let the cube fall down the middle of her cleavage.
Willow silently thought Hannah might not want to peek inside her mind at this exact moment, as her thoughts would probably shock her. Willow turned around and looked up at Hannah shyly.
Considering her former profession, she shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, as all her essential parts were still covered, but she wasn’t on stage and Hannah wasn’t a client. She was her boss. “Sorry, I was really hot.”
Hannah’s gaze flicked down to Willow’s breasts and then back to her face. “I see that.”
Willow tried not to make too much out of Hannah’s gaze. With Hannah, it could have meant anything or nothing at all. Yet, she had the strangest sensation that she liked what she saw. Although her features gave nothing away, there was the tiniest flame of something in her blue eyes. For a long moment, neither of them said anything, but instead watched the other with an increasing awareness, until Hannah stepped back with a mischievous smile.
“I have to leave,” Hannah said, sounding very reluctant.
Willow turned back to her sketch. “Off to meet your mystery friend?”
“Is that what they call psychotic stalkers these days?”
Willow turned back around, looking concerned. “Do you want me to go with you? It might not be safe going alone.”
“It’s fine,” Hannah dismissed with the wave of her hand. “She’s harmless.”
“All right,” Willow conceded as a smile crept on her face.
“What?” Hannah questioned.
“Nothing,” Willow answered as she continued to smile brightly.
Hannah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “All right, I’m off. If you’re gone by the time I get back, I’ll call you later.”
“All right,” Willow chuckled.
She’s, Hannah had said. She’s, as in, she has a female stalker. The same crazy bitch that called several times every day. Willow couldn’t imagine Hannah would leave to meet up with some everyday average stalker. This lady was an ex something. Although this certainly wasn’t inconclusive proof, Willow began to think that Hannah wasn’t entirely straight. First, there was the female stalker. Next, was the fact that Hannah never mentioned any ex-boyfriends. Finally, Hannah had clearly checked out her breasts, and had very nearly felt her up. Willow wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that Hannah was gay, or even bisexual, but she did begin to wonder if her interest wasn’t reciprocated.
Standing on a rooftop in the middle of January topped Hannah’s list of the very last place she wanted to be. Maybe, in summer? Maybe, when she wasn’t dealing with a suicidal freak? Maybe, when she didn’t have a perfectly warm office with a delicious intern waiting for her? But definitely not today. The whole situation made her grumpy.
“Francesca darling, I see you haven’t grown a pair of wings,” Hannah called out.
Francesca ran over with the enthusiasm of a lost puppy desperate for affection and launched herself in Hannah’s arms. “You came! I knew you would come!”
Hannah peeled herself away and held Francesca at arm’s length. A slight grimace of disgust wrinkled her brow. It was such a shame. Francesca had such potential, but like all her other pets, she wanted more. No matter how much she gave, they always wanted more. Certainly, she was no Willow. No one was or ever would be. But how to make her understand? Hannah wasn’t so cruel that she wanted Francesca to destroy herself. She was young still and had years of life ahead of her. Besides, she didn’t need another suicide attempt linked to her name. Her publicist, the one employee who actually earned his pay, had done a fantastic job of shielding her reputation in the past, but even he couldn’t work miracles.
“About that,” Hannah started, “we are going to go downstairs, and I am going to take you to a lovely little facility.”
“No, I want to be with you,” Francesca sobbed.
“That’s not possible because I don’t want to be with you. I’ve moved on, and I think it’s time you do so as well.”
“I’ve seen you with her,” Francesca whispered with a little-girl voice.
“Considering you have been following me for weeks and I haven’t been exactly discreet, I’m sure you have,” Hannah said blandly.
“She will never love you like I do.”
“One certainly hopes not.”
Francesca grew remarkably compliant. Hannah assumed she was just content to have her undivided attention, even if it was only for a short time on their way to the psychiatric ward. She wasn’t surprised Francesca followed along with very little argument. After all, Hannah had trained her well. Like any other wild creatures, humans were very easy to break if you knew how.
At the hospital, once Francesca was whisked away to her isolated room for evaluation, Hannah met with physician on duty to explain the situation.
“I’ve only met the dear girl a few times, but she has developed this fixation on me. I would rather not involve the police.”
“We will do our best, but if she doesn’t stay on the prescribed treatment, you may have to,” the middle-aged psychiatrist cautioned. “From what you described, she sounds delusional. So far, her behavior has been rather benign, but occasionally people who suffer from this type of disorder can become increasingly more aggressive.”
“I hope not,” Hannah murmured thoughtfully. “She seemed so sweet.”
“Miss Fairbanks, I would like to commend you for your thoughtfulness and consideration. Most people have no tolerance for this kind of situation, let alone someone of your stature.”
“It’s nothing,” Hannah dismissed with a pretty blush staining her cheeks. “I only hope you can make her better.”
Hannah waited to call Willow until she knew Zachary would just be arriving home for the evening, but before he got settled in. Most nights, she was able to capture Willow’s undivided attention and he would leave, but occasionally the bastard was persistent and stuck around. On those nights, Hannah didn’t sleep well—kept awake by the revolting image of them together. It would be so much easier once Zachary realized he had lost.
“I hope you dressed before they came to fix the thermostat,” Hannah said into the line.
“Of course,” Willow laughed. “I never work for free,” she said and then grimaced at her slip. She hoped Hannah hadn’t caught it. “So, how did it go this afternoon?”
Hannah let out a groan. “I guess as best as it could, given the situation. But enough about that, let’s talk Paris. I can’t wait to get you to myself for an entire week.”
“You have me to yourself every day,” Willow said.
“It’s not the same,” Hannah denied. “You always go home to him.”
“Well, I do live with him,” Willow tried to tease.
“Hmm,” Hannah murmured, sounded displeased. “After I finished today, I decided it was time to start packing.”
“Oh,
maybe I should start too.”
“No, darling. I’m packing for both of us.”
“Why?” Willow asked suspiciously.
“Don’t be offended. These people are ruthless bastards and you know what they say about first impressions…”
Chapter 6
Paris was divine. Hannah not so much. From the moment they stepped off the plane, everything about her was different. Back in Austin, she was still famous, but had always been able to move around unrestrained by her celebrity status. But here in the ‘City of Eternal Lights,’ Hannah wasn’t just another famous face—she was a legend. A security team met them at the gates and escorted them all the way to her apartment on 9th street, which was not far from the famous Moulin Rouge, but they hadn’t been able to stop the of army of paparazzi that followed their every move.
Not having been able to sleep on the plane, Willow was still groggy the next morning. When Hannah had said she had packed for her, Willow hadn’t anticipated that she planned on dressing her as well—or styling her hair and doing her makeup. Normally, she didn’t mind Hannah’s fussing, but she hadn’t been able to enjoy her morning coffee as the stuff they served here was so much stronger than what she drank back home.
“Hannah, stop,” Willow groaned and shooed Hannah’s hands away.
“Fine,” Hannah hissed. “If you don’t want to look your best… Oh wait, it’s not your goddamn reputation on the line, is it?”
Willow conceded reluctantly, and was even more unwilling to admit she did end up looking fabulous, which was nothing short of miraculous considering she didn’t feel her best. By the time they arrived at their first fashion show, Willow was starting to come alive with excitement. Sitting in the front row beside Hannah, sandwiched between so many A-List celebrities and socialites, it was hard not to be excited. Willow lost track of the times one of them came up to Hannah and told her it wouldn’t be the same without her on the runway. Like a sponge, Hannah soaked up each and every one of their lavish praises.
Halfway through the first show, it occurred to Willow what was off. It wasn’t her lack of sleep or Hannah’s morning bitchiness. It was the fact she had stepped inside Hannah’s world. From the outside, it always seemed like such a luminous, enchanted place, but once she crossed the threshold she discovered it had its share of dark, shadowy corners and shallow people. Since she was a little girl looking at the famous magazines in the drug store aisles, she dreamed of being here. She thought it was the one perfect place left on this earth, but this was no Eden. What disturbed her the most was that Hannah had been living here for over ten years and hadn’t seemed to figure that out yet.
On the third day, they attended a brunch held at the Ritz. Several famous designers, fashion moguls, and other celebrities were in attendance. Despite Hannah’s early exuberance about having Willow all to herself, Willow had already figured out her place in Hannah’s life. Here, in Hannah’s world, she sat in a very distant backseat. Most of the time, Hannah seemed to forget she had brought Willow along.
Although Willow had never considered herself the jealous type, she was very annoyed when Hannah dropped her like a hot potato whenever Lola Carmichael, former model turned socialite, came into the room. Hannah had started raving first thing this morning that they were sitting beside Lola at the brunch. Having enough of chasing after her like a lost puppy, Willow decided to stay behind with the personal assistants and behind-the-scene employees.
As soon as the glittering stars disappeared behind the closed doors, she was instantly besieged by Lola’s P.A., Raul Rodriguez.
“I heard the rumors, but I had to come meet you for myself. May I say, you might be the bravest woman I’ve ever met. My name is Raul; I’m with Lola.”
“Hello, nice to meet you,” Willow answered politely. “Why do you think I’m so brave?”
“You’re Hannah’s P.A.,” he said with a shrug, as if that said all there was to say.
“No, I’m actually an intern,” Willow corrected.
“Good Lord,” Raul exclaimed dramatically. “You’re not even getting paid to put up with her shit. I don’t know how you do it. That woman terrifies me.”
“She’s really not that bad.”
“Whatever,” Raul said as he rolled his eyes. “That bitch throws stuff at me every time we are in closed quarters. And Lola says she’s a dead aim. Hannah misses on purpose to avoid lawsuits.”
Willow started to chuckled but stopped when she heard Hannah yell out from across the room.
“Willow, what the fuck are you doing? Get your ass in here,” she yelled impatiently and started snapping her fingers.
Willow’s eyes narrowed lethally as she crossed the room. “Don’t call me like a dog,” she gritted through her teeth once she reached Hannah.
Hannah shrugged defensively. “Seriously, what in the hell are you doing in here? What do you think you’re going to learn from them…?” she asked with disgust. “How to answer my phone and run out to buy me toilet paper whenever I need to wipe my ass? You’re here to learn the business—not how to be some goddamn parasite.”
Once inside the large conference room, which was filled with several round tables that were cloaked with starched white linen cloths and adorned with the finest china dishes, crystal goblets, and beautiful floral arrangements, Hannah showed Willow to her seat and then promptly ignored her for the entire meal. She was utterly engrossed in Lola, and the two of them picked apart every other person in the room. Their attacks were vicious and petty, and for the first time since they met, Willow found absolutely nothing attractive about Hannah.
In between courses, Ian Ryan, a talented and successful actor from a popular cable network series, sauntered over. Something of a pretty boy, Willow had never understood what all the hype surrounding him was about, but up close and personal, he was rather dazzling.
“Hello, Hannah,” he said with his deep, gravelly voice.
“Hello, Ian,” Hannah said drily, without looking up at him.
“I was thinking since we’re in town together, maybe…” he started, but Hannah cut him off succinctly.
“No,” she said.
Not one to be put off so easily, he chuckled. “But you didn’t hear me out,” he denied.
“No,” Hannah said again. “It will always be a no. I don’t know why you insist on asking me the same question.”
Ian looked over at Willow. His mouth curled into an arrogant smile, and he winked. “Because one day I believe you will say yes.”
“Go away, Ian,” Hannah growled, “before I am forced to cause a scene.”
“Maybe that’s what I want? God knows, the only reason I come back every year is to see your angel face coming down the runway while the litany of profanities spew from your mouth. What a combination—sweet and sour.”
As Ian delivered his well-rehearsed lines, he looked at Willow. Probably because she was the only one looking at him as both Hannah and Lola refused to look his way. Or maybe he forgot which actress he was supposed to address? With his finger bent, he reached out and tried to stroke Willow’s cheek with his knuckle, but never got the chance as Hannah moved with the lightning speed of a ninja.
She held Ian’s hand down on the table at an impossibly contorted angle. “Go away,” she gritted between her teeth.
After he left, Lola chuckled quietly. “I don’t understand why you won’t give that boy a chance. He’s been chasing after you for years.”
“Yes, you do,” Hannah scowled. Still furious that the slimy bastard had dared to pollute Willow with his vileness, she thought to herself, He’s lucky all he has is a torn ligament and bruised knuckle. With all the cutlery so close at hand, I might have reached for the knife first.
Lola clicked her tongue. “Not in front of the children, darling.”
“Fuck you, Lola,” Hannah spat and then looked accusingly at Willow. “You were talking to Raul.”
“Yes, I was.”
“Don’t,” Hannah demanded. “He’s a fucking little b
itch that likes to spread lies about me.”
Hannah turned away to stare blankly at the crowd. First, Raul and then Ian. There was only so much she could take before her temper erupted. And it was all Willow’s fault. With both of the men, Willow had been so warm and inviting. Didn’t she realize they were hideous monsters only using her to get to Hannah? They didn’t care for her at all. Oh maybe they might fuck her, well, except Raul—unless Willow offered her ass. And sometimes Willow was so stupidly naïve, she would probably let them—just like she let her loser boyfriend fuck her.
“I hate this fucking place. It’s filled with fucking little bitches,” Hannah hissed.
Willow looked around nervously. Several people at their table and the surrounding tables were watching. Their eyes were aglow with anticipation. As discreetly as possible, she reached for Hannah’s hand.
“Hannah, don’t do this here,” she whispered.
Hannah looked down at where Willow touched her skin. Normally, she didn’t encourage affection from her pets unless she had invited it first, but Willow wasn’t a pet and there was something comforting about the feel of her skin. Hannah blinked several times and then moved her hand out of reach.
Looking back at Lola with a slight smile, she explained, “He only chases because he wants to be the one who fucks Hannah Fairbanks. That sort of thing would guarantee career mobility.”
Inwardly, Willow rolled her eyes.
Later that evening, Hannah was set to go paint the town with Lola. She didn’t actually like Lola. They were more like best frenemies. Whenever they were together, they had a blast, but as soon as one of them turned their backs, the other would slam her in the press. The only reason she tolerated Lola was because she shared Hannah’s unique desires. Always a bit of a slut, Lola had been married for years to a fabulously wealthy Italian tycoon. The marriage was sham. The tycoon turned a blind eye as Lola slept with other women because he was off doing the same thing. But Lola didn’t just like any woman. She had a taste for ‘fallen angels.’ The more checkered the past, the more she desired them. Lola had already made several innuendoes about Willow, but Hannah had told her quite firmly that she was off-limits. Of course, she didn’t trust the bitch, and hence Willow couldn’t come along.
Crazy Bitch (Bitches and Queens) Page 4