Moving toward the sidebar to pour a drink, I dropped my head and fought an affected smile when I was struck with the realization.
This was exactly where I wanted to be.
Here.
With him.
Despite the cameras and intrusion. Regardless of the gossip and the speculation.
I didn’t care.
I reached for the bottle of champagne that was chilling in a silver bucket on the table, then stilled when I felt the air rustle from behind.
A cold, unwelcome chill.
It slithered across my skin like an omen.
I allowed myself to close my eyes for one second, before I gathered all the courage and resolve I had and slowly turned around to face the fierce presence that had appeared at the door.
“Kendall.” It was barely a whisper.
She smiled a vicious, red-lipped smile, her bob brushing her thin, bare shoulders, the woman a knockout in her cobalt blue strapless dress.
If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed her to have been one of the stars on the screen.
“I do hope you enjoyed the show.” Her voice was all feigned interest and concern. “Although, I suppose you already slithered your way in to see it once. It doesn’t have quite the same impact the second time around, does it?”
I stood my ground, refusing to let this woman belittle me just by her condescending tone.
“Actually, I think I appreciated it more the second time around…anticipating what was next. Knowing it would steal my breath and then being floored by it all over again.”
She laughed. “Kudos to you, Kaylee. You do always seem to know the right thing to say.” She wandered deeper into the room. “Though that doesn’t change the situation, does it?”
Unease fluttered through my senses.
The last thing I wanted was another confrontation with this woman.
I respected her simply for the fact Paxton employed her, and he trusted her to look out for his best interest.
But she needed to understand I was there because of Paxton.
Because he wanted me there and I wanted to be there with him.
Because I cared about him and he cared about me.
My chin lifted a fraction. “I don’t know what situation you’re talking about.”
She scoffed. “There’s no need to play coy, Kaylee. You’ve known what this was right from the very start. You served your purpose and Paxton served his.”
My head shook, and I took a step back as she came closer. “What are you talking about?”
Her voice dropped into something wicked. “You think you’re really different, don’t you? Did you actually come here thinking you were going to make the Paxton Myles fall for you? Did you really think you were going to manage to sink your claws into him so deeply they would actually stick?”
She edged in closer, so close to my face I could almost taste the venom when a condescending tsk jetted from between her lips. “You don’t mean anything. You aren’t any different than any of the thousands of other girls he’s taken to his bed. He used you…fucked you…took you…and you let him. But don’t worry, he’s more than willing to compensate you for your time and effort.”
Dread pushed at my chest. Heavy and dense. I took another floundering step backward, desperate to put space between us. “You’re wrong. Paxton…he…he cares about me.”
I needed to get out of there. I kept moving back. Needing air so I could think.
She took another step toward me. When she did, my back hit the wall.
She pulled an envelope from her black velvet clutch. “Paxton wanted me to make sure you had this.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “You’re lying.”
She tore the small slip of paper free from the envelope.
A check.
A check for One-hundred Thousand Dollars.
Nausea spun, and I choked back a sob. “No…Pax…he wouldn’t…” The refusal stammered from my tongue.
Images flashed.
Ones of us from earlier in the hotel room.
The shower.
More slammed me. Picture after picture of the gorgeous women who’d been on his arm—gone the next day.
“No.” It was a whimper.
Her head angled to the side. “Then why do you think you’re in here and Paxton is out there? Why do you think he removed you from his side and left you in this room all by yourself? He’s had his fun and now he’s bored with you, Kaylee. Now it’s time for you to go home.”
I fought it. God, I fought it, but a single tear slipped free. I gritted my teeth against it, just as hard as I tightened my hands into fists. “No.”
She lifted the check. “He signed it, Kaylee. This is his goodbye. Now…we have a driver waiting for you out back to take you to pick up your things at the hotel. You need to be at the airport in ninety minutes to catch your flight.”
Anger burned.
So hot.
So unlike me.
But it was there, this ripping ache that felt too much like heartbreak.
She shoved the check at my chest.
I tore it out of her hand.
She stepped back, her grin nothing but a cruel I told you so.
I gripped it in a ball. “You think I want this?”
“Isn’t that what everyone wants? Money? Fame? The chance to step out of their pathetic lives just for a second, to glean a taste of what it might feel like to live on the other side? You got your fifteen seconds, Kaylee. It’s over. And I promise you, if I ever see you anywhere next Paxton Myles again, I will personally see to it that you regret it for the rest of your life.”
There was nothing I could do to stop them.
Tears flooded free, hot streaks that undoubtedly left rivers of black down my face.
Marks of shame and heartbreak and anger.
My laughter was grim and hurt when I looked at her, the check like a white flag of surrender waved between us. But I wasn’t going down without this bitch knowing exactly where I stood.
I tore it into a hundred tiny pieces and tossed them into the air.
For the first time, it was shock that widened her eyes.
“Maybe Paxton chose to use me. But when I told you I didn’t want anything from him other than to be with him, I meant it. Maybe I saw something in him I shouldn’t have seen. Maybe I am naïve and simple and gullible.”
Maybe my one wild night had truly turned into a nightmare. Maybe it would cause me the greatest pain that I’d ever experienced after all.
I swallowed around the grief that threatened to spill out. I looked to where the pieces of the check were scattered around our feet on the plush carpeted floor.
“But I will never be this person.”
I started for the door, before I turned and looked at her from over my shoulder.
“And I am not for sale.”
Then I turned and fled.
Chapter 18
Paxton
Jackson MacPherson would have talked for another hour if I let him. I feigned interest, but honestly didn't give a shit what he had to say. My thoughts were only on Kaylee and getting her back to our suite. Fortunately, Kenneth stepped in and pulled me away when Jackson showed no reasonable attempts at letting up.
It's been an hour since I saw Kaylee, and my heart beats wildly against my chest as I slink down the dark hallway toward the green room. Never has a woman completely consumed my thoughts like Kaylee has. Never have I wanted to disappear from Hollywood and hole up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a woman I met mere days ago…until Kaylee.
My eyes scan the greenroom, searching for her in the sea of bodies that stand sipping on drinks and having artificial conversations about absolutely nothing of importance.
Kendall stands against the far wall, a tall champagne glass propped in her hand as she laughs at something the man she's speaking with has said. Her head bouncing with short bouts of laughter until she sees me. She stands up straighter, raising her chin when she sees me appro
ach, my eyes still scanning the room for Kaylee.
“Where's Kay?” I ask, not giving a fuck about interrupting her conversation.
“Don't be rude,” she scolds me, cocking an eyebrow and pursing her lips. “Paxton, this is Ransom Jae.” I've heard the name before. Some new fucking Hollywood guy that everyone seems to be getting their shit in a twist over. Honestly, he looks like a boy-band dropout, nothing that really sets him apart from every other twenty-something Hollywood actor.
“What's up?” I ask, looking over his shoulder for Kaylee only to see the crowd in the room thinning as everyone begins to head out to one of the many after parties that follow these screenings. Just like the one where I met Kaylee.
Where is she?
I turn around, pinching my bottom lip between my fingers as I try to figure out where she could be. My feet shuffle across the carpet to Kenneth who stands crouched down picking up little pieces of paper off the floor with his right hand, with a cell phone still pressed to his ear with his left.
He freezes as my feet stop just inches from his fingers. “I have to go,” I hear him say with his thick British accent, as he shoves his phone down into one of his suit-jacket pockets.
“What are you doing?” I ask him as he stands straight up, his eyes meeting mine. His face is void of any expression as he swallows hard, his Adams apple bouncing nervously in his throat.
It's as if he's looking through me, and I turn around to see what he's looking at.
Or rather, who.
Kendall stands tall, her shoulders square with her head shaking from side to side in a silent warning to Kenneth.
He inhales and narrows his eyes at Kendall, a war of unspoken words raging between the two of them. “I think you'll want this,” he says, quietly dropping the pieces of paper into my hand. “I'm going to see if I can find Kaylee.” He shoots a pointed look over my shoulder directly at Kendall as I decipher what in the hell is happening.
I look at the palm of my hand with shreds of paper, and I can tell I'm holding a check, but what it's for is beyond me. As I inspect the pieces more closely, I can see the letters 'Kay' handwritten in Kendall's distinct handwriting.
I turn around to see Kendall standing tall in defiance, her chin raised as I slowly begin to piece everything together.
“Where's Kaylee,” I ask again through gritted teeth. Kendall's obstinance is starting to wear on my nerves as anger begins to set in. I'm done fucking around with Kendall and her petty bullshit.
She waves her free hand dismissing my concern. “She's headed back to the States, where she belongs. This charade needed to end, so I ended it.” Her lips twist into a fake smile before she finishes off the rest of her champagne, smacking her lips when she finishes.
With one long stride, I reach out and grab Kendall's arm, never having touched a woman in such an aggressive manner before. The delicate champagne glass falls from her hand and to the floor, shattering into a million little pieces at our feet.
“Pax!” she says with a hush as I yank her toward me.
“Where the fuck is she,” I bark at her, causing her eyes to widen in fear. I've let Kendall run the show for too fucking long. She's my publicist, not my handler.
“Probably on her way to the airport right about now.” She glances at the large clock on the wall in the green room. “Her flight is scheduled to leave in an hour.”
An hour. Sixty minutes. There is no way I'll make it to Heathrow in sixty minutes at this time of day. I squeeze Kendall's arm, and she gasps, “You're fired!” I tell her, anger seething with every word.
“You have crossed the line, Kendall. For years, I have been patient with you, allowing you to make decisions that weren’t yours to make. I trusted you, as my publicist to have my back. But this…you know how I feel about Kaylee. I told you what I had with Kaylee was different and you were so threatened by that, that you just had to try and destroy the one thing that has made me genuinely happy. Well, fuck you, Kendall. Fuck you.”
I spit the words in her face. Her eyes wide at my outburst. I release her arm and take a step backward as I try to figure out how in the hell I can get to Kaylee.
“Kenneth!” I shout and he appears at my side almost instantly.
“I'm already on it,” he cuts in. “I'm making calls to every airline. I don't know that they'll stop her from boarding, but I'll do my best.” He offers me a sympathetic look. “I've already requested Ronald bring the car around. He'll meet us at the back entrance.”
I nod in appreciation. Thank God for Kenneth.
“This way.” He points to a door that will take us out the back way.
The alley smells of piss and garbage, but Ronald is waiting with the door open when we exit the back of the theater. He hurries us inside the car while Kenneth continues to call every airline with flights to the United States.
Meanwhile, I'm blowing up Kaylee's phone with texts and phone calls, only each one is met with a return message that I've been blocked.
“Fuck!” I scream and toss my phone across the limo to the seat next to Kenneth. He eyes me carefully as he continues to speak in a professional tone.
“I'm looking for a passenger, Kaylee Burton. She's left something here in London that we're trying to get to her before she leaves,” he speaks calmly and professionally. “Yes, I understand you can't tell me if she's on your flight…” I can hear his voice growing more agitated with each call and my anxiety continues to spiral out of control.
“Then tell me what flights you have leaving Heathrow to anywhere in the U.S. tonight?” he asks. His pen anxiously tapping a small leather-bound notebook on his lap. “Fourteen fifty-two to LaGuardia, what time? Nope. What else?”
He chances a quick glance at me as I grow more agitated by every passing second. My hands are balled into fists at my side and I take long breaths as I try to calm myself.
“Flight eight-hundred to Los Angeles at eleven o'clock.” His voices hitches, and he looks at the watch on his wrist before scribbling down the information. “Thank you.” He sets his phone down on the notebook.
“No one will tell us what flight she's on. I've checked with every airline and American is the only with a flight tonight that leaves in about forty minutes. That has to be the one she's on.”
I nod and swallow hard. “Good work, Kenneth,” I'm barely able to muster through my anger-ridden anxiety. Ronald weaves in and out of traffic, but with every stoplight we hit, my hope grows weaker at catching Kaylee before she leaves.
Kenneth taps out messages and makes hushed calls as I stare out the window as rain begins to fall. I count the beads of water that fall against the tinted window, losing count somewhere in the three hundreds.
My anger has turned to sadness, and my hope quickly dissolves as we enter the departures area of Heathrow airport. How Ronald weaves this beast of a car in and out of the traffic is beyond me, but he manages to get me right up to the American departures curb.
I jump from the car and Kenneth is hot on my heels. He hands me my phone and tells me a boarding pass is waiting for me in my email. I jog through the airport, and I begin to see flashing lights and shrills of excitement as I approach a security checkpoint. I tap my phone, pulling up my email, and I see Kenneth pleading with an official looking man.
It's rare that I fly commercial flights and I'm usually ushered from one private lounge to the next as I board private planes owned by production studios and other Hollywood elite. This trip was one of the rare cases.
I feign a happy smile as people try to take my picture and shout my name from their spots in the security line. When security staff assess the commotion I'm causing, they make an exception and take me through a side entrance for a quick and private screening. I owe Kenneth a raise. A big one, if I can make it to Kaylee in time. He nods at me from the other side of security and motions for me to call him with an update.
My hearts races, as the flight door should be closing in approximately two minutes, and I have to make it across the termina
l to her gate.
I jump on a motorized cart and offer the driver more money than he probably makes in a month to get me across the airport to her gate. We weave through crowds of travelers, the cart swaying with each sharp turn. My heart beats rapidly as the shrill horn beeps in warning of our approach.
The cart comes to a sudden halt at the furthest gate, and the driver points excitedly at the door that's already been closed. I leap from the cart and nearly knock over casual travelers standing in the gate area.
I slap my hand on the desk and the gate agent quickly looks up from her computer. “How may I help you, sir?” she asks with her thick British accent.
“I need to get on that flight, I have a seat.” I shove my phone in her face with the boarding pass loaded. She shakes her head without even looking at my phone. “The plane has already pulled from the gate.” She points over her shoulder with her thumb. There I see the large white plane backing away from the gate with the lights flashing on the wings.
“Goddammit!” I scream and slap my hand on the counter in frustration.
“Sir!” she scolds me.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I really needed to get on that flight—” My voice breaks. “I really needed to get to someone on that flight.” I rake my hands over my face and up through my hair as I concede to the flight gods that it’s not going to happen.
She smiles sympathetically at me. “Customer service can rebook your flight for you. We have another flight leaving early tomorrow morning.” She shuts down her computer and grabs her belongings from under the desk before sauntering away.
I walk, my head hanging in defeat, to the large windows that overlook the gate and runways. The American Airlines flight carrying Kaylee taxis farther away until it turns down a runway, and I lose sight of it completely.
My heart breaks into a million pieces as that metal tube carries everything I never knew I wanted. Without a doubt in my mind, I have fallen head over heels in love with Kaylee.
“I love you Kaylee, and I will make this right,” I whisper to myself, only I'm not sure if it's too late for us or not.
One Wild Night Page 11