I spotted Eli, who was chatting up Daisy as he played his piano. “What’s going on?”
My sharp voice was like a record scratch, forcing them all to look at me at once. Eli smiled broad. “There’s my girl.”
He swung off the bench and headed towards me. The closer he got, the more I realized that smile didn’t quite reach those blue eyes of his. “Welcome home, Carly,” he said as he reached for a kiss that I knew better than to deny him. Worse, he made it far more intimate than it had to be. “Cross one more thing of your ‘to-do’ list, honey. We got you all moved out of Ling’s.”
My eyes narrowed. “I’ve only been asleep for four hours.”
He chuckled as he lifted me up and carried me once again towards one of the chairs. “Yeah, but they’ve been working all day.”
“I had another month left,” I gritted between my clenched teeth.
He shrugged. “One less thing to worry about,” he dismissed easily. “Besides. It’s not like you were going to move anywhere else, right?”
The look in his eyes was pointed.
Clem joined me, bringing a glass of juice. “If it helps, I’m sure Ling will be happy to get rid of the PING vultures that have been driving him crazy.”
I sighed. She was right. It was probably best to get it all done quickly. Like a bandage on one really hairy arm.
Eli sat next to me on the sofa, curling his arm around my shoulders. “Now we can focus on what matters. Like say, the new FFF opening its doors on St. Patrick’s Day.”
My eyes widened. His voice was sharp and those eyes were deadly. Had he figured out that I had used my windfall to fund FFF? Had my very dear friends, who had my best interests at heart, ratted me out unintentionally?
My gaze swung around to Clem, who shrugged helplessly, nodding her head ever so slightly towards Antoine, who wore just about the most apologetic look I had ever seen him wear. He was a talker on his best day, so I had a feeling a little morsel had slipped out without his even noticing, and Eli, the snake that he was, pounced all over it.
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the back of the sofa. Eli leaned close. “You never told me you wanted to be an entrepreneur,” he said softly. “I could have helped you.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Or did I?”
I opened my mouth to say something, anything. “Eli,” I started, but he just smiled and clutched me tighter.
“Shh,” he crooned softly, his eyes on my mouth. “Like any baby, the father is the last to know.” He leaned forward and kissed me again, another one for show; though I could tell through the forceful dominance of his tongue piercing my lips that he was punishing me for breaking my NDA.
And I had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t end with just dinner.
I wanted my friends to stay longer, but they were all exhausted and ready to bounce by eight o’clock. Some had to get back to the club, which was still operating all the way until Valentine’s Day, after which it would shut down and the move would begin.
Eli was balls deep in the planning whenever the topic was broached, and he generally did the broaching. He offered to play opening night when the brand spanking new FFF opened its doors, which none of us could refuse. That would give us the kind of media push we needed to launch the club at its new location. Hell, that’s the kind of media push that would put FFF on the map once and for all, establishing it as a legitimate nightclub for all kinds of clientele.
Once again I could use Eli Blake’s phony-baloney bullshit persona for personal gain. It was getting to be an annoying habit.
But this was my life now. One I had chosen. And I knew I would have to answer for some things after the last of my friends finally left that evening. I held my breath as he walked Clem and Antoine out. They were the last to leave, probably because they knew what waited for me after they had gone.
But Eli wore a smile as he sauntered back down the hall. He stopped in the kitchen to feed Beau Jangles one more time, and to grab my meds, for which I was now due. He landed on the sofa beside me with a thud as he handed me my pills and a bottle of vitamin water to take with them. “So. Anything you want to tell me, Carly?”
I snatched the bottle. “Don’t act coy, Eli. It’s beneath you.”
He stretched out his arm against the back of the sofa. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you did with your windfall.”
“Look, Eli…,” I started, but he was on point.
“I just have to ask myself… how did she explain getting that kind of money? They have to know you could never make that kind of coin fetching coffee for Frank.”
I sighed. “I told them before I signed the agreement, okay?” His darkening eyes met mine. “I had to get some advice on what to do. And they’re my best friends.”
“Funny,” he mused softly. “I don’t remember that being a loophole.”
“It wasn’t,” I snapped.
“And whether you were under that particular NDA or not, you aren’t supposed to share what goes on at Frank’s office with anyone. You were contractually bound before you ever saw a dime of that million. So there’s really no excuse, is there?”
I sighed. “So what do you want me to do, Eli?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” he said before he hopped to his feet. He grabbed me and swung me into his arms, then marched purposefully towards the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
He said nothing until we got to the bedroom, where he put me on my feet right in front of the open patio door. Since I had no crutches, I had to hold onto him to keep my balance, shifting all my weight to my uninjured foot. He cupped my face with both hands and bent close. He spoke quietly, but the look in his eyes was anything but calm. “You fucked up, but I can forgive you. You just have to do your part in convincing everyone—and I do mean everyone—that this relationship is real. Because if you don’t, and I go down,” he added as he leaned closer, his mouth just a breath away from mine, “I’m taking you with me. I’ll sue you for every dime I paid you. And your dream becomes mine.”
My eyes narrowed. “You really are despicable.”
“Maybe,” he added as he used his lips to toy with mine. “But you need me every bit as much as I need you.”
He ran his hand along the curve of my back, to rest easily on my hip.
“So we’re going to put on a show. Tonight, all the way to next year, just like we planned. And if anyone ever questions whether or not this is real, I’ll know just who to blame.”
My hands clutched into little balled fists. “Yeah. You.”
He chuckled as he ground against me, holding me in place against his strong, hard body. “Kiss me, Carly. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like you want it. Kiss me,” he added, his mouth hovering over mine, “like you’ve been dying to do it since the moment we met seven months ago.” Our eyes met. “Sell this love story to me, or the whole deal is off.”
Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was the exertion. Maybe it was the fact that I needed somewhere to put my aggression, and a photo of me kissing Eli would be a lot easier to sell than putting my one good foot up his ass. So I grabbed him by the neck and I kissed him. Hard. It was my tongue that jammed through his surprised lips, snaking around his and practically choking him with how deep I went.
He responded in kind, clutching my body to his, so that I didn’t have to worry about falling over. One of his hands wound into my hair, tangling it in his fist as he struggled to take control of the kiss. Instead, I just grabbed his ass with both hands and kissed him even harder, rubbing my body against him as I explored the dark, deep recesses of his mouth. A moan escaped his lips as he lifted me up off of my feet, wrapping my one good leg around his waist.
I ran my fingers through that rich, lush head of hair of his, tangling in the spiky softness as I clutched him tighter. They wanted a show? I’d give them a fucking show. I took all my anger out on him in the form of scratches and tiny bites I took out of his skin, like a vampire about to go for blood.
H
e responded in kind, likely just as annoyed as I was that we had to even indulge in this charade, when it was crystal clear we weren’t at all attracted to each other.
Yet his body reached for me, particularly when he pinned me against the window, to keep my body stabilized as he ripped away his shirt. “Touch me,” he commanded, soft and breathless.
I allowed my hands to liberally slide across his smooth torso, over the hard ridges and contours. I trailed kisses from his mouth to his ear, and down his neck. He shuddered against me, and I felt not-so-little-Eli rise from his slumber.
Eli effortlessly carried me to the bed, where he laid me gently, easing himself on top of me, careful of my swollen, aching foot.
Now that the hydrocodone was kicking in, it was as if everything was happening to someone else anyway, so I just kind of went with it. I pulled him down for another kiss, which he dominated from the start.
When he reached for my top, I placed my hand over his. “That’s not for sale, Eli,” I told him. “Not to you. Not to PING. Not to anyone.”
His clouded eyes scanned my face for a moment before he acquiesced with a barely perceptible nod. He hopped up, walked to the patio door, shut it and pulled some blackout drapes I didn’t even know he had. Our eyes met and locked as he walked back over to the bed, where he stood over me, studying me as I lay before him.
“Very convincing,” he finally said. “Think you can keep that up for a year? In front of everyone?”
My heart fell. This kept getting more complicated by the minute. But… “I’ve gone too far to back out now.”
He nodded. “Welcome to my world,” he said again. He spun on his heel and left me alone in his darkened bedroom.
CHAPTER NINE
As it turned out, our act was very convincing. We ended up on the cover of several rag mags at the grocery store, which Eli gleefully showed me after his housekeeper sneaked us the new copies as they were published.
ELI BLAKE FINALLY NAILS HIS BIG GIRL—UP AGAINST HIS BEDROOM WINDOW! HAPPY HOMECOMING, CARLY!
Okay, so it wasn’t Pulitzer-prize winning material… but it was effective. The office was fielding offers left and right for interviews, and his music was flying off the shelves in every format they could sell it.
Now that he had actually shown undeniable physical affection to a Big Girl, all those who suspected he might be full of shit bought his act. He was no longer a controversial artist to support.
Since he was already nominated for one of the biggest awards in the entertainment industry, this just fueled the interest in Eli, and, sadly, in me.
Fortunately Eli agreed with me in a “less is more” approach. The less the press knew about me, the more they wanted to know. So we used the blackout drapes every single night, and though Eli still shared the bed, he never made another untoward move against me… unless, of course, my friends were present. Then he would drape himself across me like an ill-fitting sweater made of scratchy wool. If I dared get testy about it, he’d kiss me hard on the spot to remind me the job I was there to do.
Thank God for narcotic medication. Those first couple of weeks at his house, I was unconscious more often than not.
Eventually, though, real life made its demands known. I had offered to work for Frank remotely, which meant I was doing most all of Eli’s (and by default, my) PR myself via my laptop. Julie had been promoted to do those things that I wasn’t physically there to do, which meant I was either on the phone with Frank or Julie from nine o’clock in the morning until seven o’clock at night.
Eli left me pretty much to my own devices, though he hung around the house in case he was needed.
As much as I hated to admit, he was awfully handy to have around while one was essentially hobbled. He made sure I ate. He made sure I took my medication. He even allowed me to get mobile and do things for myself, though he was nearby in case I got myself in a sticky situation.
As much as I hated the guy, being in a “relationship” with him wasn’t as difficult as I had imagined it to be. There was actually a human being in there somewhere, hidden underneath all the douchebaggery. I saw it when he would remember to give me my meds, or when he’d help me to bed without being asked, or when he’d snuggle with Beau Jangles whenever we watched TV.
No one was around to impress with any of this, which would be the only reason the Eli Blake I knew would do anything kind or magnanimous. In those quiet moments, I wondered if I was truly seeing the real Eli.
The hardest part was not being able to let Clem in on everything. That felt wrong and unnatural. Clem was my best friend, and yet I was being paid very well to lie to her, right when I needed her insight and brilliance the most.
Thankfully, I was about 90-bajillion-percent sure she knew I was full of it and why.
But she didn’t bust me on it, and I never offered. Things grew practically complacent. Oddly enough, Eli and I didn’t even fight anymore, even when he told me he wanted to accompany me to the Valentine’s Day party at FFF. I managed to shrug it off, though I knew that it came with way more complications than I personally wanted to handle.
Clem worked her magic on my boot, bedazzling it with dozens of crystals so it fit with the outfit she had created for me with a red wraparound dress befitting the romantic holiday. We sent out a press release, to let everyone know that Eli would be there at the final night at FFF’s original location before it’s moved to a much bigger space.
The press release had done its job well, lining up a bunch of hopefuls around the block just waiting to get in.
“Wow,” I murmured as the limo circled the block. “This is shaping up to be the biggest night in FFF history.”
Eli linked his hand with mine. “Thus far,” he added with a smile.
I knew he was right. I also knew he was the reason why we’d attracted this kind of crowd. I adopted a smile anyway as we exited the limo, with Eli playing the perfect gentleman for the cameras who waited to see us make our official debut.
I was blinded immediately by all the flashes that popped as we stood before the small crowd of legitimate media press. “How’s the ankle?” someone yelled.
“See for yourself,” Eli said as he lifted my skirt and showed off my sparkly boot, which I modeled appropriately.
“When are you going to play football again?” someone else asked.
I laughed. “Never! He doesn’t play fair.”
Eli responded by pulling me closer, with that look in his eyes normally reserved for the stage. “Never,” he replied happily before he reached for a chaste kiss.
I didn’t deny him. The photographers went crazy.
Eli disengaged us from the crowd and headed inside the metal doors to the second L.A. home I was about to lose. The gang had gone all out with lighting and decorations. Music thundered around us and the dance floor was filled to capacity. Lola spotted us coming in, so she segued into one of Eli’s songs, which whipped the crowd into even more of a frenzy.
I knew Eli could barely process it. “Wow,” he said so softly, I barely heard him. I pulled him to the bar, where Antoine and Clem were hustling to make drinks. That night’s special? Cupid’s Arrow, a drink made with pomegranate juice, sparkling rosé and orange liqueur.
“Make mine a virgin!” I called over the din.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” Clem responded.
“The pills,” I shrugged. With how much my foot was aching, I knew I’d have to take a hydrocodone when I got back home, and I didn’t want to add alcohol on top of that. It was tricky enough just taking the narcotics by themselves.
“Fine,” she said, just handing me a glass of pom juice and clear soda. She turned to Eli. “How about you, handsome?”
He leaned across the bar with that devastating smile. “There’s nothing virgin about me, sweetheart,” he winked. “Just ask Carly.”
Clem laughed as she prepared his libation. “Still, better be careful. This is one Cupid’s arrow that packs a punch.”
He downed it in one swallow. �
�Can’t be any worse than the one that already pierced me,” he said before he pulled me into his arms. “Let’s dance.”
Though my ankle ached like a sonofabitch, I didn’t put up a fight. I followed him onto the dance floor, where Lola slowed it down to a sensual, familiar tune. My eyes met his. “That’s yours?”
He nodded with a smile as he held me closer. “Still working on the lyrics. You were right. They’ll make or break the song.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said.
“God, I hope so,” he replied. “I’m not used to writer’s block.”
“Used to things always coming easy for you?” I challenged.
His unapologetic eyes met mine. “Of course.”
I chuckled. “Great doesn’t come easy. If it did, it wouldn’t be great.”
He grinned. “Such sage wisdom. Should I call you Confucius? Or Yoda?”
“That’s OGWO to you,” I corrected.
His brow lifted. “OGWO?”
“Oh Great Wise One. That’s my nickname around the office, because I was able to…,” I trailed off.
“Able to what?”
I sighed. It was too late to turn back now. “Because I could always tell what you were going to do.”
His eyebrow arched even higher. “Is that so?” I shrugged. “And what makes you think you know me so well?”
“I pay attention,” I told him. “It’s like playing chess with someone who only has a few tried and true moves. You have one winning strategy and you keep using it. Simple as that.”
“If it ain’t broke,” he shrugged with that smirk I used to hate. He spun me out, twirled me around and brought me back. “So I take it you think you’re impervious to all my tricks.”
“I know I am.”
He ran his hand along my back until it rested on my hip. “What makes you so sure?”
I shrugged. “I see through the bullshit. There’s glitter on your web, Eli, but it’s a trap all the same. I’ve seen it. I’ve always seen it. When you see it for what it is then you can’t get caught up in all it’s not.”
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