He thought about that for a moment before he nodded. “Yes.” I growled in frustration and stomped back into the bedroom. He was quick to follow. “What’s the big deal, Carly? You get a free trip to Hawaii. You have the time of your life. You get to be with me,” he added and I stared daggers at him. “And you get to become a star in the process. Where’s the down side?”
I stomped back over to face him. “I didn’t want to be a star. Did you ever think about that?”
He shrugged. “Too late now. Might as well make it work for you. All those clothes,” he said, pointing towards the closet. “Those are all exclusive to Tempestuous. You could become the new face of a plus-size boutique.”
“They’re expanded sizes,” I gritted between clenched teeth, echoing what Darcy Masters had said to me.
“There you go,” he said. “You’re already changing the conversation. It’s everything you said you wanted.”
I bit back a scream of frustration. I knew my confession to him months ago would bite me in the ass.
He walked over to the desk in the bedroom, which was filled with paperwork. “They’re willing to pay you a pretty penny, too. Frank negotiated quite the deal.”
I couldn’t believe this. Both Frank and Eli had played God behind my back. What sexist… dirty… underhanded…
When Eli brought me the paper, I glanced down at the number. It was, indeed, a pretty penny. A bunch of them. Thousands of them. Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of thousands of them. I snatched it from his hand anyway. “Who asked you to do any of this?” I demanded.
“I don’t get you, Carly. I really don’t. This is a huge opportunity. It’s everything you said you wanted. And it pays. Where’s the problem? What are you so afraid of?”
I practically hissed at him. “I told you I’m not afraid of anything.”
Without another word, he slipped the white terry cloth robe from his shoulders, showing me that he didn’t wear a stitch of clothes underneath. I didn’t know why I was surprised, but I was. I didn’t know why I gasped, but I did. He missed nothing. “Care to get in bed with me and prove that theory?”
I clenched my jaw. “You only have one arrow in your quiver, don’t you, Robin Hood?”
He fetched his robe from the floor and slipped it back on. “If it ain’t broke,” he repeated again with a shrug. “You should really eat something,” he said as he walked into the other room. “We have a full day ahead of us.”
I called after him. “You’re so right. It’s going to take me all day to get back home.”
He paused at the door and turned to face me. “You’re not going anywhere, Carly.”
I crossed my arms in front of me and arched an eyebrow. “Why not?”
He walked towards me. It took all I had not to take a step back. “Because you’re my yes girl, that’s why. That’s what you get paid for. That’s why you’re here. You get to sell this relationship to the masses, however possible. Now, if you really want to leave, you can pay me back every single cent I’ve already paid you, including what you gave to Clem and Antoine for the club.” He referred to the piece of paper in my hand. “That amount should just about cover it. Oh, but then you’d have to stay here and complete the video, wouldn’t you? Such a tangled, tangled web.”
Anger boiled in my blood. “I hate you.”
“I know,” he said. “But that didn’t stop you from almost fucking me last night.” He bent closer. “And we still have ten more months to go. You might want to do whatever you can to ensure you have some money left at the end of this thing. Because as it stands? You’ll be paying me back every penny before summer.”
I wanted to punch him in his arrogant face. But as mad as I was at him, I was madder at myself. I had voluntarily walked into this mess, foolishly thinking a mere million dollars would cover it.
Now I wanted a raise. Thanks to the contract in my hand, I had one.
I was on the phone to Frank within minutes. “Next time you want to play God with my life, you might want to ask me first. You’ll get a lot further,” I advised.
“You’re a smart girl, doll,” Frank shrugged. “I knew you’d make the right decision.”
“Oh yeah? Then try this on for size. I want you to negotiate a deal with Tempestuous. I’ll only sign off on the video if they hire me as the face of this new campaign using Eli’s music.”
“What?” Frank echoed.
“Eli was right. They’re going to film me either way. I might as well get something out of the deal. I’ll give Tempestuous an exclusive contract for one year to use my likeness to sell their clothing. I’ll wear it almost exclusively, with the exception of major formal events. With so many pictures out there of me, the paparazzi couldn’t sell one if they tried. Hell, I’ll turn on my social media and post them all myself. I’ll play the part. But I want a million dollars.”
“What happened to your last million?” Frank asked.
“Gee, Dad. I spent it on soda pop and candy,” I sneered. “Do it, Frank. Work your magic. Oh, you might want to send me a contract to work as my agent, especially if you want to see that ten percent. I know you know the hotel fax number.” For once, Frank Abruzzo was speechless. “Maybe as your client, you’ll keep me in the loop next time.”
After I disconnected the call, I spotted Eli leaning up against the door frame. He had overheard every word. A slow smile of admiration dawned on his face. “That’s my girl,” he praised. Oddly enough, I could tell that he meant it. “Now come join me for breakfast. We have a busy day ahead.”
Without another word, I did just that.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The rest of our Hawaii vacation played out much like a tourist’s wet dream. We did all the things one is expected to do when staying on the islands. We picked pineapple. We hiked up Diamondhead, courtesy of a brace for my ankle (and lots of alcohol and rest on the beach after my triumphant victory.) We paid homage at the USS Arizona Memorial, to remember the fallen from the attack on Pearl Harbor.
All along the way Eli snapped candid photos of me like a camera phone ninja, which he would then share with the world with his affectionate captions. On picking pineapple, “She’s still sweeter.” On Diamondhead, “Is there anything she can’t do?” And at the USS Arizona Memorial, he caught me, head down, a tear on my cheek, as the reverence of that place took its emotional toll, “She has the biggest heart of anyone I know. How’d I get so lucky she’d give it to me?”
After some negotiating, Tempestuous finally agreed to my whopper of a deal and I began job #4: ‘plus-sized’ model. I was pretty sure that had everything to do with Eli and nothing spectacular or unforgettable about me, but however it shook out I ended up a very rich woman by the time we boarded that plane back to the mainland. It ended up being a very fortuitous decision on my part, because PING had started to piece together my co-ownership with FFF. It would have been very hard to explain how I would have scrounged up that kind of money fetching coffee for Frank. This way, it looked like it was all part of a bigger plan.
I turned on my social media like I promised, posting selfies of myself every day for the rest of our trip. Eli turned everyone onto my newly public handles, and the followers skyrocketed. I now had a worldwide audience for my message of sexy at any size.
When I got back to L.A., I was ready to make this work for FFF in a very big way.
In the meantime, I posted kissy, cozy pictures with Eli, because those got the most likes. Pretty soon people weren’t going to PING or Miles O’Rourke for the latest gossip; they came straight to our pages instead, since we were “an open book” for the public now.
I kicked myself for not doing it all sooner.
As a reward for my compliance, and probably for my sneaky opportunism as well, Eli cooled it a bit on his “Get Carly Into Bed” plan. There were still plenty of PDAs, and I was pretty sure he had used all the cold water on Waikiki by the time we boarded our chartered plane back home, but he didn’t push me the rest of the vacation. If I said sto
p, he stopped.
It was very weird.
If he wasn’t with me every second of every day, I would have assumed he was getting his surfboard waxed elsewhere. Instead we had been inseparable. He had been the picture of the perfect boyfriend. By the time we left the islands, even I wondered where the lie blurred into the truth. The things he said about the things he saw often surprised me. When I finally stood on my surfboard, he had snapped a photo and broadcast it for all our followers. “Look out, world. My girl is unstoppable.”
When Tempestuous finally agreed to our deal, he was the one who insisted we pop some champagne to celebrate.
Eli, however, was still Eli. “You’re paying, right?”
All in all I was in pretty good spirits when I got back to L.A. We had a busy agenda in front of us. I only had about ten days give or take before the brand spankin’ new FFF opened its doors on St. Patrick’s Day, and I decided to use my newfound celebrity to pack that venue full opening night.
I was at the club every day with Antoine and Clementine. I took an obscene amount of selfies, especially considering I had never taken any before. I wore Tempestuous designs like a good girl, and even got my bestie dressed up in their clothes as well. I tagged every one of these photos with the Tempestuous hashtag, which meant that it got even more mileage.
I gave little teasers with wallpaper swatches and paint options and glassware choices, which people voted on without being asked. It helped us turn FFF from this rag-tag little dive bar into a more elite nightclub. All of us were getting more jazzed about it by the day.
Meanwhile Eli was hard at work in his studio, working on the new song that vexed him, as well as other material for his next album. He also worked side by side with the video editors for the final product of “She’s a Winner,” as well as practiced at the Fierce backlot for the performance that would take place a week after the FFF opening. We barely saw each other once we got back from Hawaii, simply because of our demanding projects.
Not to mention we were both perfectionists and control freaks, who preferred to stay balls deep in what we were doing.
Every night we would pour ourselves into bed around midnight, after sharing a light meal that the first person home would prepare for the both of us. It really was a picture of domestic bliss, sans all the romance.
Like a real marriage.
I hated to admit that I missed Eli’s pursuit a little bit. And I missed it more when Caz Bixby would show up at the club to check on our progress. Unlike Eli, who had cooled his jets, Caz made his interest known at every opportunity. Flattering as it was, it was a complication I didn’t need considering I was a one-man woman for the next nine or so months.
“I thought you were going to call me,” he chastised. “But I guess if you’re conquering Diamondhead, you really don’t need physical therapy anymore.”
I laughed. “Tell that to my ankle. It still hasn’t forgiven me for that hike.”
He leaned closer. “So what are you waiting for? Put yourself in my hands, baby. You’ll be right as rain before you know it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I know what that means, mister. You don’t want to train. You want another satisfied customer in the sack.”
He shrugged. “Potato, potahto.”
His use of the phrase startled me. We were a lot alike, almost eerily so. Was this another act? Or genuine? And what difference did it make? I couldn’t do anything about it anyway, which, by the way, was getting more frustrating by the day. When his touches lingered, my body responded. I wasn’t used to denying myself gratification. The fact that everything with Eli had been very intentional foreplay for the public eye only threw my libido into even more of a tailspin. This made my narcotic-infused dreams even naughtier than they had ever been otherwise, which didn’t help matters at all.
Why couldn’t I have met him just a few months sooner?
“If it means anything, I’m tempted about the PT. If only to ditch the hydrocodone.”
He made an instant face. “Don’t tell me you’re taking that poison.”
I shrugged. “Doctor’s orders. But I don’t like it,” I confessed. “I have to take it at night or else I can’t get anything else done. Knocks me right out.”
“I can help you with that,” he said. He referred to his phone, apparently to check his schedule. “Are you free later?”
I thought about it. “I suppose. Why?”
“I’ll meet you at your place. I’ve got something that is so much better for you than that other stuff. Natural remedy.”
I gave him a wary side-eye glare. “This isn’t a way to show me your swatches, is it?”
He laughed. “Not the first visit. What do you say? Feel like being a little adventurous?”
I debated for a moment. If it weren’t for the lingering ache in my ankle, I probably would have declined right away. Instead, “Are you sure it can help?”
He nodded. “You’ll be amazed. I promise. Money back guarantee.”
Again I laughed. “So I am paying you.”
He leaned even closer. “Nah. First taste is free.”
Despite my better judgment, I gave Caz directions to the house in Malibu. Thanks to our photo blasts, the stalker-paparazzi crew had found other exclusive stories to break, giving us a little bit of privacy now, just like Eli had predicted.
He really was a smart sonofabitch sometimes. I considered bumping him up to OGWO Jr.
The only thing worse than giving Eli any credit whatsoever was turning into the kind of friend who lies to her other friends. I used my ankle as an excuse to leave FFF early, which I was pretty sure Antoine bought, but Clem didn’t. She was still trying to figure out if my new persona was authentic or not. She never busted me on it. She was smart enough to see the wisdom of playing this game, particularly when it was going to put FFF on the map. But I knew she was worried about me.
As I headed toward Malibu and my first “date” with Caz Bixby, I knew she had good reason to be.
I really didn’t plan on sleeping with the man, but the possibility was there. After all these frustrating weeks, it got the blood pumping a little bit.
Okay, a lot.
I knew I was in trouble when I decided to freshen my makeup the second I walked in the door.
Actually, I knew I was in trouble when I scoured the place for Eli, and was relieved to find out he had gone out for the day.
I felt naughty the second I opened the door to Caz. I peered around him, to see if anyone was lingering in the shadows, then pulled him in by the hand. Like true birds of a feather, he was suitably impressed by Eli’s lair. “Some pad,” he complimented as we walked down the hallway towards the living room.
“Thanks. Eli spared no expense,” I said. I pointed to the floor. “Lapacho wood straight from Paraguay.”
Why did I tell him that? What was wrong with me?
“A man of exceptional taste,” he complimented as his hand rested on the small of my back.
Just that one touch and I was immediately all aflutter. Was I really the kind of woman who could cheat? And was it really cheating… when it wasn’t a real relationship in the first place?
“Where should we get started?” I asked. I cursed the tremor in my voice.
His eyes enveloped me. “Wherever you feel most comfortable.”
Too bad Ling’s place was being demolished, I thought. “Private?” I asked.
He shrugged. “That’s entirely up to you.”
After only the briefest deliberations, I led him upstairs towards the guest bedroom. Why a bedroom, I had no idea. It could have easily been the gym. But the gym had floor to ceiling windows, and I didn’t want to risk that much exposure. I could have chosen the studio, but that just seemed wrong somehow. That studio was Eli’s inner sanctum, his church.
Mostly for privacy, I didn’t bother with the lights when we got to the guest room. I lit some candles and pulled the blinds. Then I turned to face Caz, who sauntered ever so casually over to where I stood. “Ready for
your newest adventure, Sunshine?”
I chuckled nervously. “Is that my new nickname?”
He nodded. “All my favorite girls have one. Do you mind?”
I shook my head. I kind of liked the way he said it, softly—like a secret. “What’s this miracle cure of yours?”
“I’m so glad you asked,” he grinned before he reached into his jacket. He withdrew a vaporizer and I made a face.
“I thought you said it was natural.”
“It is,” he assured as he placed the vaporizer in my hand. “One hundred percent, Grade A cannabis.”
My eyes widened. “Marijuana? That’s your cure?”
“It’s been a cure for ten thousand years,” he said. “Same benefits and effects as hydrocodone, except no one has ever died from an overdose of this.”
I was still skeptical. “You’re not just trying to get me high to seduce me, are you?”
He chuckled. “I don’t need this for that.” He lifted the vaporizer that was still in my hand to his lips to take a long hit as his eyes locked with mine. “Don’t you trust me, Sunshine?”
I could barely breathe until he released a long stream of white vapor from his lips. His thumb stroked my hand he still held. “It really does help. It helps make workouts more effective. It helps to manage sleeplessness and insomnia. It helps manage stress,” he added. “Not as effectively as an orgasm, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
I shuddered. He could still tell such intimate things about me. It was disconcerting.
“And sex while high,” he murmured suggestively. “Well, you’ll just have to try it and see.” His eyes dropped to my mouth as he took another big hit. “I brought you a vaporizer because unlike flower, it really doesn’t have any lingering smell. It’s a convenient, discreet hit whenever you need it.” He lifted my hand to bring it to my lips. “Give it a try.”
I sighed. “I’ve only tried it once before,” I confessed. “I was fourteen when someone passed me a joint. I coughed so hard I gagged, then I got a headache.”
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