by Lila Felix
“Done. No face shots, Amber, and no mouth kissing.”
Slapping his hands on his thighs he got up and grabbed his phone. “Do you want to shake on it or do you trust me?”
“I’ll trust you and shake on it.”
We shook hands and I couldn’t deny the pull on me hold his hand a little longer. He must’ve felt it too because we stood like that, holding on until he released my hand. “I need to make some calls. They’ll want some proof soon. Eric said we could go on that tour anytime. Maybe tomorrow?”
“That sounds fun.”
“We could take some pictures out there. They would know we were in a swamp, but they wouldn’t know where.”
Business, of course. I had to get used to that.
“That’s fine.”
Before I even hit the door, he was calling someone named Gina and giving her ‘great news.’
Later on, I called Pauline and told her about my acceptance of Crown’s deal so she could be prepared for what I hoped was a great influx of new contracts. Sitting at my desk, I felt the need to remind myself of why getting more jobs was more important. I got the letter out of the drawer, the letter that I hated to even think about and sighed. That horrible man would get out of prison in less than two weeks. Hopefully Crown’s presence would be reason for him to stay away. And if he didn’t, more money coming in would finance my plan just fine.
A knock at my door startled me. I opened it to find Tippi, hands on her hips, and fuming.
“What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk. Now.”
She stormed in and took a seat on my table.
“Stop sitting where I eat. There are chairs.” I was a little pissy and her storming in wasn’t helping.
“Fine. While I’m finding a chair why don’t you tell me about Crown Sterling?”
Shit! Did she know already? Had he told people?
“What do you want to know?”
“How long has he been living next door?”
“How did you know he was living next door?”
She held up her hands to make me stop. “My questions first. How long?”
“About two weeks.”
“You knew he was famous?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” That last question came out with a twang of hurt to her voice.
“I had fully intended to ignore it and him until he was gone.”
“And now?”
“Now, I may have agreed to pretend to be dating him or whatever.”
Tippi screamed, flopping herself backwards on my chaise lounge. I covered my ears to protect them. The girl could break glass.
Another knock sounded on the back door and after seeing it was Crown, I rushed to answer it.
“You screamed. Are you okay?”
I froze in place. He was holding his knee like he’d hurt it getting over to my place so fast. This was all about the deal, of course. He only cared if I was okay so that I could hold up my end of the bargain. Crown’s gaze ticked down to my lips, which were currently being bitten in an attempt not to reach out and hug him for coming to check on me. Having a guy next door was a good idea after all.
“Ahem. I was screaming, not her.”
Tippi broke the tension, it was one of her gifts.
“Oh,” Crown backed up. “Is this Tippi?” He directed the question at me but looked at her.
“Tippi this is Crown Sterling. Crown, this is Tippi.”
Tippi righted herself in the chair and did her best saunter to stand next to me. She stuck out her hand and smiled at him. “Nice to meet you. We were just talking about you.” I poked her in the ribs for that little addition.
“Nice to meet you. If you’re okay, I’m gonna get back to it. Blake’s about to be here.”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“I’m fine too, Crown. Thanks for asking, since I’m the one who was screaming.”
“Good.” He answered her in a clipped tone and went back home.
Shutting the door, I hoped Tippi’s ADD had taken hold of her and arrested any curiosity she had about Crown.
“You’ve been keeping yummy secrets. I mean, damn, Lyra.”
I gave up any attempts at playing coy. Tippi might as well know. “Well, he’s only here for a few weeks. It wasn’t a big deal. Anyway, how did you know?”
“Well, they’ve been talking around the office about this big account for someone famous. Apparently, no one else wanted it because several people turned it down before they asked me to take over. So, basically, I own his ass while he’s here.”
“You have Crown’s account?”
“Yep. I got it and paid no attention. I mean, we get high end accounts all the time, not famous, but high end. But I have some questions for him, so I looked up his address to pay him a visit and there it was, the Apartment A to your Apartment B.”
If Crown was only going to be here for a few more weeks, a month or so tops, then why was a local firm being put in charge of his accounts? Crown should have his own accountant. I guessed it wasn’t any of my business. His financial welfare wasn’t anything I needed to know as part of the deal. I asked anyway.
“Is he in trouble, Tip?”
She sighed and kicked off her very business heels. Tippi used her fingers to move her short hair back into place before she spoke.
“You know I can’t give out client info, Lyra. I do need to get over there and ask him some questions though.”
“I need to tell you something first. Do you want a glass of wine?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Do I need a glass of wine?”
Nodding, I went to the kitchen and got two glasses and our favorite brand of red. I poured her glass a little heavier than mine, since she had to go talk to Crown soon. He probably was going to be that jerk of a shell he was when everyone was around.
“I’m going to be getting a bunch of jobs soon.”
“Excellent!” She jousted her glass out to clank with mine. “What happened? Did somebody see the diamond pics?”
“No. I made this deal. It’s actually the deal of a lifetime. You can’t tell anyone, swear?”
She did some cross over her heart and stuck a pretend needle in her eye. “Swear.”
“I made a deal with Crown.”
One of her eyebrows rose up so high, I thought she was having a mini-stroke. A crimson blush took over her face in an instant. “You’re gonna be his bed slave in exchange for more modeling jobs?”
Slapping my forehead, I instantly regretted telling her. Everything with her was a damned Viking romance. I read Thoreau, she read, The Thrall Who Put Out. That wasn’t really the tile of a book, but those were the kinds of books she read. Viking, Celtic, Highlander, all of them found women who put up a fight for the first thirty pages and then realized what they were missing out on.
“Be realistic, Tippi. I’m not a Viking mistress. It’s no big deal. I’m just going to pretend to be with him, whatever that means, as a publicity thing. And my name in the papers and the news will land me more jobs.”
All the blush that had accumulated in her wild initial belief drained from her face.
“It sounds dangerous, Lyra.”
She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know. I’d chosen not to bring my thoughts on getting absolutely shattered in this thing to the surface, pushing them down below positivity about getting more jobs.
I turned away, not wanting to show her how much I knew that this could cut deep. “Don’t get me wrong, babe. I know you are saving and hoarding money from modeling so that you can hide as much as possible. Hopefully, you will save enough to last you until the bastard dies. But it won’t count if you are ruined.”
I understood her concern. I did. I’d been ruined by a man a long while ago and had barely recovered. In fact, some days I thought maybe I hadn’t recovered at all. But Crown didn’t have the power to hurt me like Abraham had. That bastard had torn down my world and made me scared to fall asleep most nights. I stil
l looked to the ceiling and checked for holes before I showered.
“I’m not giving him the option of hurting me. And I’m not under the impression that this thing is anything more than a publicity ploy. It’s a win—win. He gets back on the news and I get jobs that keep me perfectly hidden and safe.”
“How many days?”
I shrugged. “Like I said, he’s only here for four more weeks, give or take. Something like that.”
“I meant Abraham. How many more days.”
I hated when his name was said out loud. It was like it gave him a little bit stronger hold on my life.
“Less than two weeks. He’s seventy six now.”
“That’s too old to be a stalker. He’s probably retired by now.”
I cut my eyes at her to judge her expression. She was joking and I knew it when I saw her hiding her smile with her fist. It was wrong for me to wish the man had a short lifespan, but I did it anyway. I hope he died at the ripe old age of seventy six while I could still hide from him and curse him at his funeral.
“Crown’s a hottie. Those eyes—it would be hard for anyone not to get lost in them.”
“You don’t get lost if you have a map.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, her enjoying her pre-Crown wine and me mulling over this whole thing wondering if I’d jumped in too fast and promised more than I was willing to trade. If I could just keep that first impression of Crown at the forefront of my mind, then I would be fine.
It was the sideways glances and the downcast gray irises, if anything, which would be my downfall.
It wasn’t like Crown needed anything from me, so the imbalance would be on my side.
“Does talking business require these heels?” She held up her offenders by their heels.
“Yes. It’s a prerequisite. Go on. You know you want another eyeful.”
“I do. I’ll be back.”
Tippi was gone for a little over an hour, not that I checked the clock or anything. She came in and told me goodnight, grabbed her stuff, and left.
Left with nothing else to do, I went through my nightly rituals. The locks, the windows, the mirrors, the ceilings. That night, I went through them three times, just to make sure.
The letter, telling me that Abraham, the man who’d shadowed over the safety every teenager should feel, was getting out in less than two weeks got pinned to my calendar. Hiding the letter wasn’t going to help me get over it any easier.
Chapter Fifteen
Crown
Believability.
“She told you?”
The woman with short black hair that screamed attitude sat at my glass topped table, writing down almost everything I said.
“She’s my best friend. Of course she told me. I also happen to be your new accountant. The other one fled the country. Any idea why he’d do that?”
I had no clue. The situation sunk in and I realized this girl had me by the balls.
“No, I don’t. How bad is it?”
She exhaled loudly. “I just got the account today. It looks like I might be able to get you straight. I need to really dig into the charges on your account and all those credit cards. I can see you lived an expensive life, but not enough to get you that far over your head.”
“So you can straighten me out?”
“Yeah. You don’t have any hidden accounts or anything, do you?”
“I wish.”
“I’ll get on it. Also, tomorrow, I will separate your personal spending money from your other stuff. That way, we know how much you have for living.”
“Thanks. I didn’t even know if I could go to the grocery store the other day.”
“We’ll handle that.”
Jotting down a few more things, she looked all business, which I appreciated. I was a little leery of her being Lyra’s best friend, but counted on confidentiality to save me from further embarrassment.
“That should be it. I’m gonna get home now.”
Making her way to the back door, I thought I’d gotten off with a free pass—until she stopped.
“You get this predicament, right?”
“I get it.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do if it meant protecting Lyra. She’s finally made her life safe and I won’t let you screw it up. Celebrity or not, famous or not, I will take you out if you hurt her. We clear?”
For such a little thing, she sure did pack a punch.
“Tippi?”
“Yeah.” She turned around and faced me which was good because I needed to make sure she understood me.
“I made the deal to keep her safe—from me. This way she won’t get hurt. She knows who I am up front.”
She leaned sideways against the wall by the back door. “Crown, you and I both know that deal only protects you. My promise still stands.”
When she was gone, I blew it all off. There was no way someone sweet, vibrant and alive like Lyra could find anything she wanted in me. I had one goal and one goal only—be king.
None of the best kings had queens.
It only brought them down.
I was plagued more than I thought, that night, about the news of my mother. Actually, it had bothered me all day, I was just preoccupied with more pressing matters. I wanted to go find her grave. At the same time, I didn’t want to give Eric the satisfaction of seeing me weep like a puss over Mommy’s grave.
Or the satisfaction in knowing that he’d spilled the big news.
I’d looked up Brusly on the internet. It was only a forty minute drive away.
Of course, I couldn’t drive.
The other thing on my mind was my agent’s reaction to my news. I’d expected elation and a rush to write press releases and alert the tabloids. Instead, she’d offered an icy congratulations and told me that if I wanted her to act on it, she’d need some proof. Proof?
I already knew that, but it wasn’t the flailing arm comeback I’d wished for.
I could handle proof. A couple of selfies within the parameters of Lyra’s rules should do it—no problem. Some social media posts wouldn’t hurt either.
Hell, who was I kidding? This whole thing would be a piece of cake. Pretending to be with a gorgeous woman—no problem.
Listening to Lyra’s nightly drill soothed me, temporarily allowing me to sideline my stresses and focus on her movements. I knew them by heart, each and every one. So when I heard the routine being followed through twice and then three times, I became concerned.
I shouldn’t be, unless it would interfere with the deal.
I shouldn’t care.
But damn it to hell if I didn’t.
That could be threaded into the deal right? All the things I wanted to know about her?
With the last medicine cabinet opened and shut for the third time, I sat up and waited for her next move. Would she go through the steps again or go to sleep?
Not hearing anything else, I finally let myself rest, knowing that she could rest.
~~
Blake had begun to come over for my physical therapy sessions way too early in the morning. I’d learned his schedule and was determined, the next morning, to beat him at his own game. I heard his beater pull into the driveway and for once, decided to be not just awake, but ready when he knocked on the door. I threw on shorts and some shoes and tossed a clean t-shirt over my shoulder. I brushed my teeth on the way to the front door and peeked through the blinds, ready to scare the shit out of the peckerhead for coming so early.
It only took me seconds to zero in on the last thing I expected to see.
My toothbrush dropped to the floor as I took in the scene outside. He must’ve had some kind of sixth sense, because as soon as the damned thing hit the floor, he ticked his head in my direction. He stared, trying to look into the blinds, for a little while and then got back to his company.
If he thought I was watching then why in the hell didn’t he stop what he was doing?
Lyra was outside, sitting on the hood of her car in a bathr
obe. Not just any ordinary bathrobe. I was thankful this one covered more than the one I’d seen her in before, but the thickness, or lack thereof, was the same on this robe as the last. The gray material clung to every curve she owned and some that should be illegal.
She must’ve known what she was doing. She had to. Her hair was piled to one side and waterfalled over her shoulder. When he said something to her she did that thing where she bowed her head gently as if the conversation was making her too bashful to keep eye contact.
A growl ripped out of my throat, involuntarily, as I watched her feet rub each other back and forth. It wasn’t just her feet. When she moved her feet, it moved her legs, which moved her hips and damn it if Mr. Married With A Pooper On The Way wasn’t drooling over every motion.
I waited inside to see how long it would last. They talked and laughed like two lifelong friends. Friends, that’s all they were was friends.
The only reason I was concerned was for appearances’ sakes. I didn’t give a damn if she laid every physical therapist in the tri-state area after I was gone, just as long as it didn’t get in the way of my plan.
His only savior from me going out there and tackling him was that she hadn’t flashed him that smile, the one that I loved to see. The one that thus far, she’d only given to me.
That was my smile, and mine alone.
I was about to let it go, convincing myself that the itch of green I felt was only because we were involved in something.
I’d just wait for them to get done with whatever it was they were doing.
But just as I turned and forced myself to look away, in the blink of an eye, Blake made a fatal mistake.
Lyra said something and whatever it was caused him to reach out and touch her elbow. It was then that Crown Sterling, for the first time in my life, lost my shit completely. I didn’t know how it happened. I saw the light touch of his hand and red filled my vision. Tearing out of the apartment, I set my sights on the bastard. There was nothing anyone could’ve done to stop me.
“Hey, did you come to flirt or to fix this shitty knee? I bet Preggers at home thinks you’re working.”
“Crown!” Lyra was shocked at my language or my rudeness—or both.