Flick stood gawping at me like he’d seen a ghost.
“Are you okay, Miss Bliss?” Jerry asked as he took hold of me to support me. “You’ve gone very pale. Are you feeling ill?”
“What the fuck?” Flick whispered, his face as pale as mine.
Jerry, sensing the chill in the atmosphere, turned to Flick, looked at me, then looked back at Flick.
“Dove?” Flick murmured. “What the fuck? Dove?”
“Dove?” I faintly heard Jerry echo. “Dove? This is the Dove?”
Neither of us answered him, I was too engulfed in a shameful stillness. Yet Flick didn’t seem shocked anymore, he looked pissed. Very pissed.
His gaze left my face and his eyes trickled over me, sweeping down the length of my dress then back up to my face. His jaw twitched, but I saw the shake in his hands. He appeared to be struggling with the words that were stuck in his throat, but then he managed to spit them out and my heart shattered. “Wow. A whore, huh?”
“Fuck, Flick!” Jerry cursed him.
I couldn’t move, his words hitting me right in the chest. I needed to move – quickly. Yet my legs wouldn’t work as my eyes fed on Flick, my soul soaking him up as if it had been starved of an important nutrient. My heart was beating too fast, the effect of it making me lightheaded. My lungs refused to consume air as bile crept up my throat.
All in all, I was fucked.
Finally blinking back the shame, I turned to Jerry almost mechanically. “I apologise, Mr Boston. I’ll get my assistant to reimburse you.” Turning to Flick, refusing to allow him to see my hurt, I swallowed back the vomit and gave him the best smile I could muster. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I have other ladies available if you require an escort in the future.”
Jerry gapwed at me. Flick glared at me. And I turned and walked away.
“You’re good at that, aren’t you?”
I froze, the pure hatred in Flick’s words making the blood still in my veins. “Excuse me?”
“Walking away.”
He suddenly appeared beside me, his fingers wrapping around my wrist. His touch burned my skin and I snatched my hand away.
As I approached the double doors to leave, Flick jumped in front of them, blocking my way. “I don’t think so, babe.”
Swallowing back my anger, I hissed through my teeth. “Let me go, Flick.”
“You remember my name, then?”
“Of course I remember your name. What the hell, Flick?”
A flash of something covered his face, but within a blink, it had gone. “You’re not leaving. I fucking paid for you. I own you.”
“You do not own me, Mr O’Kane.” I pulled my shoulders back, needing to be professional and hating that I couldn’t just pull my arm back and punch him in the face.
“Oh, I own you, love. Twenty thousand quid out of my bank account says I own you. After all…” He hissed and I reared back from his intense fury, “I’m just another face to you, aren’t I? Just one in a thousand cocks that dip in and out of your pretty pussy for twenty K. So I expect to fucking own you! That’s the point of being a whore… to-be-fucking-owned!”
I gasped when Jerry yanked Flick, throwing him to one side and sending him sprawling into the wall. “Do not speak to her like that, you twat. Get a grip!”
Taking the opportunity to flee, I hurried from the apartment, hitting the call button on the elevator so hard I was scared I might break the damn thing and I would have to take the stairs in the stupid shoes I was already having trouble standing up in. “Come on!” I hissed, pulling my phone from my bag and praying Frank hadn’t got too far away.
The door finally opened, and just as I was about to step inside, Flick shouted, his voice choked and broken. “Dove.”
My heart cracked at the agony on his face as he stood in the doorway, his pure green eyes watery and soft. I couldn’t move, my body locked under his gaze as he stared at me. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
Lowering my eyes to the floor, I nodded.
“Please, come back in.” His sorrow buried into my gut, bringing back everything that had haunted me over the past ten years. “Please.”
“I can’t do this.” It was the only thing I could say as I stepped into the lift and the doors closed.
A sob tore up my throat when I heard Flick shout my name, his frantic thud on the elevator doors piercing my eyes with tears.
The elevator stopped at three bloody floors on the way down, each time a snooty fucker climbing in and staring at me as though I’d just bent over and shown them my arse, their glares of disgust making me hate myself more than I already did.
We all stepped out of the elevator and I hurried across the floor, praying that I didn’t go arse over tit on the gleaming polished marble.
I was nearly there. The large glass doors were in my sight, and just as I reached out to push them open, my body was hauled off the ground and once again in the elevator, upside down as I hung across Flick’s shoulder with his hand on my arse, holding me down as I writhed around.
“Put me down!”
“So you can run? Again. Not a chance, love.”
“Flick! Jesus Christ!”
“Nope, but God is a little closer.”
He didn’t put me down until we hit the main area of his apartment. Jerry was nowhere to be seen when Flick lowered my feet to the floor.
Standing in front of me, his cheeks heated and he lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dove. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just in shock.”
I nodded, accepting his apology. “Yeah.”
He looked like he was in pain as he stared at me. His hand reached up then he gulped and dropped it. “Where did you go?”
His question caught me off guard and I flinched. “I, uhh.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallowed down everything that I wanted to say, what I desperately wanted to tell him. “Do we have a schedule to keep?”
He frowned then stiffened, realising I was keeping things as professional as I could just so I could refrain from answering any awkward questions.
“Dove?”
“Please, Flick. I’ll stay, but only because you booked me for the night. This is a contract, not a friendship.” I couldn’t afford for him to get close. It was impossible and dangerous.
“Wow,” he whispered, as though I’d slapped him.
Spinning on the heels of his feet, he snapped up a tie that was laid across the back of a long sofa, and pulled it around his neck, his fingers clumsy as he tried to fasten it.
“Allow me.” He froze when I came before him and gently prised the two lengths from his hold, my fingers working quickly to produce a perfect bow tie.
I didn’t look up; I could already feel his eyes on me, yet his scent had my whole body trembling. Ten years and he still smelled exactly how he had that day when I left him. I hissed when my teeth slid too far into my lip.
“Not bad,” he whispered when he looked in the mirror. “You’ve done this before.”
I winced. “Yeah.”
He scoffed, another look of revulsion crossing his face. Eight years I had been sleeping with men for money. Eight years of becoming numb and losing a part of me with each and every one. Yet every single one of Flick’s looks, or his hissed words, or his obvious disgust, made me feel dirtier than anyone had ever managed to make me feel before. Even him.
I blinked when I found him standing at the double doors, scowling at me. “Well, are you coming, or not?”
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I hurried across the space to him. “Is there anything I need to know about tonight?”
“You mean do people know you’re a wh… an escort, or are you supposed to be something else?”
“Yeah,” I said flatly. It was going to be a long night.
“Oh, I want them to know exactly who you are.”
“That’s good then,” I whispered.
He frowned at me, the journey down in the elevator taking forever. “What?” he asked.
“You have
no idea who I am, do you?”
Confusion covered his face. “Am I supposed to?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “No, but others may. I’m… renowned for what I do in the upper circle.”
He paused. “You’re a famous whore?” He looked stunned when his eyes widened with understanding, the flicker of something I couldn’t, or didn’t want to read in them.
I flinched with his chosen word again but buried it with all the other insults I’d received over the years. “Yes. So I’m afraid some of your guests may know me… personally.”
“This should be fun,” he mumbled under his breath.
“I’m sorry.” What I was apologising for was beyond me. “Your friend booked me specifically, Flick. If I’d known I would have sent someone else.”
“Yeah.” That was all he said as he marched out of the lift and I scurried behind him like the dog he obviously thought I was.
I stood by the car when Flick stormed around it and climbed in the front beside the driver. Sighing, I opened my door and slid into the back.
The partition raised and I was alone. I was angry that it hurt so much. I was used to being treated like shit, but Flick had been my friend – once. His behaviour was choking me, the dull pain that was forever in my chest amplified by his evident abhorrence of me.
After all these years he didn’t seem a day older. I’d seen him on the TV and big screen, and I’d been genuinely happy for him. He had always loved to act, both me and him going through the lines of whichever movie or play he was eager for that month. And he’d been so good at acting that I’d relentlessly hounded him to find himself a career that he so obviously loved. So when I had seen his name appear in an upcoming movie at the cinema many years ago, I’d been both proud and happy.
I’d followed his career, making sure to watch each of his films at least four times, Ren often grumbling at me when I made her come with me for a fifth time.
When I’d heard his wedding announcement, the final remaining piece of my soul had wept. It was only then that I realised I’d been holding on to something that wasn’t mine. A dream, a hope that one day…
But now that day had arrived, my shame and self-hatred made me want to rewind ten hours and have the foresight to cancel this damn booking.
We eventually pulled up a long drive and the car stopped outside a large country house. The bustle of people, namely paparazzi, lined up beside a long red carpet made me groan. I hated shit like this, but plastering a well-rehearsed smile on my face, I pushed open the door and blinked at the torrent of flashing lights.
Flick, appearing from nowhere, forced a smile, the one I had always hated, and held out his arm for me.
However the nausea returned when not only did the rude reporters shout to Flick for a comment, but a few hounded me. Flick’s jaw clenched harder and harder with each volley of, “Dove Bliss, would you care to comment about your new client for the night?” or, “Well I’m surprised to see you’ve moved on from Jennifer so quickly, Flick. Especially with a recognised whore.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered when we made it inside. “I should have warned you.”
I stared at the floor as I waited for his rage, but when he pressed two fingers under my chin and tilted my head back, I looked up at him. “Are they always so rude to you?”
Blinking, his concern confusing me, I shrugged. “I’ve come to ignore it. It’s part of the job.”
He looked angry then, his stunning green eyes glinting with fury. “Well, I’d say it’s about time you got a new job.”
Biting my tongue, I swallowed back the retort in my head and said, “Yeah, but this pays well.”
He stared at me for a long moment then shook his head slowly, as if disappointed in me. “I’d say you’ve paid with your soul, Dove. No amount of money can ever reimburse that.”
Then he turned and walked into the lion’s den.
AS SOON AS I stepped foot into the huge ballroom I was inundated with even more hungry reporters, greedy for anything personal they could get their teeth into. I grit my teeth, angry that they were all more interested in me than in what we were actually there for.
I could feel Dove hovering behind me. It was becoming difficult to breathe, the stunning image of her engraved on my retinas even though she stood out of sight. She hadn’t changed a bit, yet she had altered so much. Her pretty face had matured into the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, however her silver eyes that had once twinkled brightly at me were now replaced with a deep dark grey that held horrors and secrets. Her slight, childhood frame had grown into the delicious curves of a mature woman; full, soft contours that shaped a sexual body just begging to be touched. The pale skin I remembered so vividly was now smooth and tanned, aching for my fingers to glide over. Her soft pink lips were now sensuous and plump, their sinful fullness painting an obscene image in my mind of exactly how they would look sliding down the length of my hard cock…
“Flick?”
I moved my eyes to Dove when she whispered in my ear, her soft breath tickling my cheek. “Sorry. What?”
“I asked if you wanted me to stay by your side or mingle.”
My throat hurt as her beauty, for some strange reason, made me angry. “I’d say mingle. It would be something you’re quite the expert at.”
Hurt flashed in her eyes and I clenched my fists, cursing myself. Yet as much as I tried to stop repeatedly humiliating her, I couldn’t seem to help it. I was angry with her. I was angry at myself. I was furious with her mother, with our past. With the fact that she never wanted me like I wanted her. I couldn’t keep up with the emotions storming me, and every time I opened my mouth I couldn’t seem to stop myself hurting her.
She gave me a slow nod then turned on her heel, swiped a glass of champagne from a passing waitress, and looked around the room as if lost.
“Flick!”
I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes for a second, holding back the grunt of annoyance that wanted to escape with the sound of his voice. I plastered a smile on my face and turned to Brandon May. Brandon and I had filmed the Empathy trilogy together; the final part premiering in cinemas all over the world in two months’ time. He had always held it against me that I had got the lead role and he had ended up with the nice guy part. We all loved it when we were given the bad guy roles; it gave more pleasure to play the part, the dark side in all of us liberated for a while, and let’s face it, the bastards always got the girl in the end – and I got huge exposure for getting naked with my on-screen girlfriend, Trudy Edwards, the hottest chick in Hollywood.
“Brandon.” My false smile dropped when Brandon smirked at me.
“Sorry to hear about Jen, mate. I can’t believe Cody! What a cunt! Sounds like they were at it for an age behind your back. Gutting, huh?” The glint in his eyes told me exactly how sorry he wasn’t.
I shrugged, smiling at a waitress when she handed me a glass of bubbly and gave me a shy smile. “No sweat, Brandon. I’m not surprised she went with Cody to be honest,” I drawled as if bored. “She couldn’t take my huge cock in her ass, and Cody obviously doesn’t seem to have trouble…” I winked. “If you get my drift?”
I left him silently trying to figure that conundrum out, and grinned at Teddy Butler when he caught my attention from across the room and waved me over.
“Flick, how you doing?”
Patting him on the back when he insisted on giving me his usual man-hug, I smiled to myself. Teddy was the only genuine bloke in the business – apart from Jerry. I had more respect for him than anyone else in the game, and the feeling was mutual. “I’m glad you could make it, Teddy.”
He scowled at me. “Of course. It’s important to you so that makes it important to me.” He patted his suit pocket. “I brought the chequebook.”
I grinned at him. “And I appreciate your chequebook very much.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “I have a feeling the auctions will go well tonight. There are some really great lots this year.”
“Unfortunately I haven’t been able to see what’s been signed up, but the turnout is humbling and I know everyone gives their all.”
“That they do, lad. You are more valued than you realise.”
Rolling my eyes but smiling gratefully, I turned to look at Jerry when he sidled up to me. I peered curiously at him when he placed his arm around my shoulder and leaned into me, agitation written all over his face. “Now, remember this is your night,” he murmured quietly. “The paps are everywhere and there are people here whose money you count on.”
“What’s going on?”
He took a breath and tightened his fingers on my shoulder. “Cody is here.”
I stiffened as anger flowed through me, each of my muscles readying for a fight.
“Flick, I want no trouble tonight. There are cameras all over the fucking place, every single pair of eyes is on you, and everyone is hyped and ready for a fight. Let it go and rise above it.”
“The prick is aiming for a fight,” I hissed through a tight jaw.
“Why the hell do you think he turned up tonight, Flick?” Jerry’s eyes were hot with warning. “He’s goading you. Go do a fucking line and let it ride.”
He was right, of course. There was no other reason Cody would dare step foot near me other than trying to provoke a fight, especially at my own charity event.
“Listen to your man,” Teddy said softly, his worry evident. “Play the fucker at his own game.”
“Mr O’Kane.” Hilary, the event organiser smiled brightly as she bundled up to me. “You’re up in thirty minutes.”
Giving her a nod, I brushed past her and navigated my way around the mass of tables towards the restrooms through the side doors of the room. My teeth were vibrating with an urge for me to calm the rage in my blood that wanted to burst out of my hot veins.
The week had been one royal fuck up after another and I just wanted it to end. It felt like the world was laughing at me, mocking me with one thing after another, and if I didn’t take away the storm in my brain soon it was going to explode and coat every fucker in my fury.
Bursting through the doors into the foyer that housed the toilets, I froze when Dove walked out of the ladies. Her head was down as she fiddled around inside her bag. Her wild blonde curls had fought with her up-do, and some had managed to escape their confines and rested on the softness of her bare shoulder. My fingers itched to slide each one behind her ears, just for the excuse to touch her.
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