Hard to Hold (The Hold series Book 2)

by Arell Rivers

  This girl is bugging the shit out of me.

  Giggling, I return my phone to my purse and dive right back into strategizing about how to keep Starr out of the headlines. I’m interrupted when my office phone rings. “Rose Morgan.”

  “Hi Rose, it’s Jeremy Davis. I’m a reporter with Record News.”

  I run through my mental rolodex before placing him. He was the only reporter who focused on Cole’s song rather than supposed wedding in Las Vegas.

  “Hello, Mr. Davis. It’s nice to hear from you.”

  “Please, call me Jeremy. Listen, I’m calling because I just got off the phone with Starr Manchester.”

  My spine stiffens. “Oh?”

  “She’s pitching the story of her wedding to Cole Manchester.”

  “We’ve heard.”

  Did his magazine buy it? Does he believe her?

  “I’m not sure why she contacted me. I’m probably the only reporter who covered Cole’s onstage performance rather than his off-stage antics last week.”

  I place my hand on my stress ball but don’t pick it up. “We appreciated your article, Jeremy.”

  “The fact that you took the time to send me an email after it was published is why I’m reaching out to you. You seem very professional. I wanted to tell you that I was obligated to bring her offer to my managing editor. Her price is high.”

  “Are you able to tell me if the magazine is biting?”

  “I don’t know yet. But I can share her telephone number—off the record, of course.”

  “Please.” Abandoning the stress ball, I scribble down the LA telephone number.

  “I can also give you a heads up of the time and location of our interview, if the publisher wants to waste a million dollars on it.”

  A million dollars?! That’s crazy. Starr is definitely deranged. Plus, being a trust fund baby, she can’t need the money.

  “Jeremy, I can’t say how much that would mean to me. I mean, to Cole and to this firm.”

  “Between you and me, Rose, this Starr sounds out there. I can’t imagine someone like Cole Manchester being involved with her. I should have an answer from the publisher by the end of the day. I’ll call you either way.”

  “Thank you. And I owe you one.”

  After hanging up, I stare at the phone for a minute, processing the call. Finally, I grab my cell and call Nolan.

  “Hi, it’s Rose. I just got the telephone number that Starr is using to contact the media.” I give him the number.

  “Thanks. That’s a new one. She’s been buying burner phones, which are untraceable. But you never know. I’ll keep an eye on it. Oh, and Rose—”

  Something about his tone causes me to sit up straighter. “Yes?”

  “We received the confirmation we were waiting for. The marriage license record on the Clark County system was definitely done by a skilled hacker.”

  “Do you know who?”

  “Not yet. But we will.” The tone of his voice leaves me without any doubt.

  Next, I have to tell Greta about Jeremy’s call. Once I’m seated at her desk, I begin, “A reporter from Record News called me, saying that Starr just contacted him to sell her wedding story for a million dollars.”

  “You have my attention.”

  “He said he’ll let me know if the magazine takes her offer. He should find out by the end of the day.” My right hand migrates up to play with my earring.

  “What does he want in return?”

  “He didn’t say. I told him that I’d owe him one.” I pause, then add, “He thinks the story is bogus.”

  Greta nods her head, then looks down at the papers on her desk. “Keep me posted.” I remain seated for a minute, playing with my earring while debating whether to tell her about the hacker. If I do, I’ll have to disclose how I found out. I drop my hand and leave her office. I’m not ready to deal with that particular slice of reality just yet.

  Back in my office, several emails have come in from Kim. With attachments. Bracing myself, I open the photos and see Cole staring back at me with those green eyes. He looks sad. My office phone rings, and I jump to answer it.

  “Hi, Rosie. I just sent you the behind-the-scenes photos.”

  My breathing slows when I realize it’s not Jeremy. “Yes, Kim, I received them.”

  “Good. Make sure you put them up on all of his social media accounts right away.”

  I roll my eyes. I know the drill. “I’ll take a look.”

  “You do that. In the meantime, I’m going out for drinks with Cole. I’ll make sure to give him a kiss from you.” The line goes dead.

  “Fuck you,” I mouth into the receiver before slamming it down.

  Trying to repress the unpleasant images of Kim and Cole, I focus on the task of choosing which of these photos to release on social media. He looks amazing. And sad. And tired. And sexy. No, he looks like a client only. I need to be professional. And not think about him and Kim going out for drinks. When will this not hurt like hell?

  Keeping one eye on my phone, I make my way through all of the photos and schedule their release on social media. I stop to admire Cole’s gorgeous smile. Those lips. His words from last night dance in my head: You make my world sing. I miss him. I miss us. But it’s dangerous to care about someone this much, especially when that someone is Cole Manchester.

  The phone rings, and I quickly grab it.

  “Hi Rose, it’s Jeremy Davis again. I wanted to let you know that the publisher has decided to pass on Starr’s story.”

  I exhale. “Jeremy, thank you so much for calling me. I really appreciate it.”

  “Honestly, I’m happy. I wasn’t looking forward to talking with her again.”

  I have to be delicate about this, but he deserves a reward for his tip. Plus, he seems like one of the good ones. “Jeremy, next week their marriage is going to be exposed as a fake. There’s more to it than is public right now, which I’m not at liberty to discuss. However, to thank you for your trust, would you be interested in an exclusive?”

  “I didn’t call you for a quid pro quo.”

  “I know. That’s exactly why I’m offering this opportunity to you.”

  “Thank you,” he says, and his voice takes an edge of excitement. “I promise to do the story justice.”

  “I have no doubt. I’ll be back in touch.” After taking all of his contact details, I hang up and go right to Greta’s door.

  “I wanted to give you the update about the magazine. They decided to pass on Starr’s story.”

  “Good.”

  “I offered the journalist, Jeremy Davis, an exclusive with Cole.”

  She motions for me to take a seat. “It’s good to keep journalists like him in my company’s back pocket. Now, where are we with keeping Starr out of other media?” I sit down and discuss what Kim had sent me, combined with what I’ve added to the strategy.

  “All of that plus the calls I’ve made to my contacts should keep her story buried, at least for another week,” Greta says. I nod. “Now, did Kim send you the photos from today’s PSA?”

  “Yes.”

  “Make sure they’re sent out. And don’t forget to keep working on Cole’s world tour. This whole marriage business will blow over, and we have to be prepared for the next step.” She stands and starts packing her papers into her briefcase.

  “I will.” Something niggles at the back of my mind. “Oh, Greta, Marco would like to be put on your calendar.”

  Her Cheshire grin appears. “Good. I’ll email you my availability.”

  Can’t wait. I check my watch and realize it’s getting late. If I’m going to make it home in time for McKenna and me to meet up with Jessie and Amanda by seven, I have to hurry.

  Friday evening

  “I’M READY, ROOKIE!”

  “Give me ten.” I rush into the bathroom, shedding my clothes in the hall as I go.

  Three minutes later, I wrap a towel around my naked body and dash into my bedroom. McKenna stands outside my closet, han
ger in hand. “Here, wear this.” I grab the light green dress from her and quickly put it on. “Turn around.” She zips me up. While she goes to my jewelry box, I step into a thong and pull the dress down to its full mid-thigh length. Thankfully, it has a built-in bra. Taking my hair out of Greta’s regulation ponytail, I brush it with fast strokes.

  “Hmmm, you don’t have much jewelry in here. I think I have something perfect. I’ll be right back.”

  I’m finishing my make-up when McKenna walks back into my room two minutes later. “Let’s see how these look.”

  She hands me a pair of large chandelier gold earrings and a gold cuff bracelet. I look up at her. “I don’t know, McKenna. I don’t usually wear earrings quite this . . . large.”

  “Which is exactly why you need to wear them. We’re going out to dinner with Jessie Freaking Anderson. We have to look amazing.”

  I get caught up in her enthusiasm. If it will make her happy on her last night here, why not? I try them on and am surprised by how good they look.

  “I can’t believe you picked out this dress,” I say. “Jessie and Amanda gave it to me when this place was robbed and I was stuck at Cole’s without a change of clothes.”

  “Then it’s perfect for tonight. Let me see your make-up.” She puts her hand on my chin and directs it toward the light, pursing her lips. “I’m glad you put your contacts in. Let me do a smoky eye.”

  I thought I had.

  Before I know it, she has all my cosmetics out and is furiously adding more color to my eyes and lips. She steps back, looks at me and then leans in for a couple more swipes and smudges. “There. Now, put your shoes on and we’re out of here.”

  Whew. All of this in under ten minutes. I reach for my serviceable purse, but McKenna makes a face and scampers off. She returns a minute later with the perfect bag, gold to match my borrowed jewelry. I quickly put my essentials in it.

  “I’m glad I brought options. You look amazing.”

  She leads me to my full-length mirror, and I’m shocked at the woman looking back at me. From my shiny hair flowing freely down my back to my nude stilettos, I look like a different person—someone who wears sexy clothes and even sexier make-up.

  Shaking my head, I turn to her. “I can’t believe it’s me. You’re a miracle worker, McKenna.”

  “You deserve this. Tonight is going to be so much fun.”

  I take my first real look at my friend since getting home. “McKenna, you look awesome.” I reach out and stroke her dark locks. “Oh, you changed your hair—the purple streak looks great. And I love your outfit.”

  It’s quintessential McKenna: fun, hip and unique.

  “This old thing?”

  She flips her tresses and twirls, her knee-length skirt flaring out. Giggling, we go out to my rental car and head to the restaurant, Roberto right behind us. Hopefully, my car will be repainted and fixed early next week.

  I tell her about my day on our way to the restaurant. “It’s pretty amazing that the reporter called you with that tip,” she says.

  “I was surprised. But more relieved that the magazine turned Starr down. So far, no one’s biting. I guess Greta put the fear of God into them. The reporter seemed to realize she was . . . off, anyway.”

  “I hope she doesn’t become even more unhinged.”

  “Me, too. Okay, that’s enough talk about the stalker. Are you ready to meet Jessie and Amanda?” We spend the remainder of the drive chatting about them.

  I give Amanda’s name at the restaurant, and we’re escorted to an empty, private dining room. The room overlooks the boat-filled marina, and we walk straight over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. We watch a crew maneuvering a small yacht into a slip.

  “Wow, Rookie. Vegas sure doesn’t have anything like this.”

  A couple of minutes later, Jessie walks in with her arms outstretched. “Come here, Rose.” I walk over, and am immediately enveloped in a big hug.

  “Is that the dress we got for you?” Amanda asks as she hugs me.

  “Yes.” I do a three-sixty.

  She smiles as she looks me up and down. “You look fabulous. And your make-up is different, too.”

  “Thanks. It was all McKenna’s doing.” I motion for McKenna to join us and make the introductions.

  “I can’t believe that I’m actually sitting down to dinner with you,” McKenna gushes.

  Jessie responds, “You know, I’m pretty excited to meet one of Rose’s friends.”

  “Tonight’s my last night in LA. Thanks so much for letting me crash your party.” Both Jessie and Amanda smile broadly at McKenna, and we discuss her week here. When the waiter comes in to take our drink orders, we all migrate to the large, oval dining table. I choose a seat with a view of the marina, McKenna sits to my right and the other two ladies face us.

  After the waiter leaves, Amanda addresses one of the elephants in the room. “The stalker is behind all this stuff with Cole, right?”

  Sighing, I reply, “Yes. Her real name is Lisa Nelson. She’s gone underground, but is trying to sell her story about her fake wedding to Cole. Thankfully, no one has bought it. Yet.”

  While the ladies around the table absorb this information, I turn to Jessie and ask, “Are you doing all right with Melanie?”

  “Honestly, she’s difficult.”

  Amanda jumps in. “I can’t believe Greta took Jessie away from you. You’ve been doing a fantastic job for Jessie for years.”

  “Thanks, Amanda.” I release my fingers from McKenna’s earring. “Greta wants me to concentrate on dealing with Cole’s situation right now. She even added Kim to his team.”

  Jessie asks, “How are you dealing with Cole’s situation?”

  And there’s the second elephant in the room. Clearly, she’s not asking on a professional level. Pain lances through my heart.

  Before I can form a coherent response to Jessie’s question, McKenna puts her hand on my arm and says softly, “We figured out how she faked the marriage certificate. The whole world will know next Friday that he didn’t get married in Vegas.”

  Amanda responds, “Well, that’s something.”

  The weight of six eyes fall on me. Clearing my throat, I say, “It’s good that Kim’s on his team now. I can avoid interacting with him. Just today, she went to his PSA shoot instead of me.” I decide to be honest. “It hurts me too much to see him.”

  “Rose, honey, we know how much you two love each other. We saw it right from the start. Amanda and I think that you just need to talk it out.”

  “Thanks, Jessie, but the fact that his stalker faked the marriage isn’t the real issue. To me, the real problem is that he got drunk and went off with her to her hotel room in the first place.” All while I was waiting for him in his suite. Tears threaten, but I manage to clamp them down.

  The couple exchanges a look, then Amanda asks gently, “Did you ask him why he did that?”

  I take a sip of water and reply, “I didn’t have the chance.”

  Jessie exchanges a look with Amanda, who says, “Communication is key in any relationship.”

  “Well, we don’t have a relationship anymore. Now, can we please stop talking about him? I want this to be a fun last dinner for McKenna.”

  McKenna pronounces, “He-who-must-not-be-named can be referred to as ‘Asshat’ if need be.”

  I choke on my water, and the other two ladies laugh. I know my friends mean well. But, really, was I ever going to be able to hold on to Cole for any length of time? No matter what caused us to separate, a separation was inevitable.

  “Ladies, it was fun while it lasted, but as Kim and Melanie have so helpfully pointed out to me, several times over, Cole would never truly be interested in me.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  All of the heat drains from my face, but I refuse to turn toward the door. I don’t have to. I’d know that voice anywhere. McKenna turns and nearly jumps out of her seat, then her body stiffens and she collapses back down.

  Jessie gestur
es for Cole to stop, then leans toward me from across the table.

  She whispers, “Amanda and I really feel that you and Cole need to talk about what happened, Rose. If you don’t want to, we will make him leave. We love you both. You’re good together. Please, hear him out.”

  I shift my body even farther from the doorway, fully facing McKenna. She seems to have regained some of her composure.

  While staring behind me, she whispers, “Jessie’s right. You still love him.”

  I close my eyes to do some soul searching, but there’s no need. Of course I still love him. I owe us this much. I open my eyes and look at my friends. They know my answer without my having to say a word. Jessie drops her hand.

  Not trusting in my ability to stand, I pivot in my chair toward the door. Not just Cole, but Ozzy, Dan and Suzanne file into the private dining room.

  Ozzy comes over to me first, kisses my cheek and says, “Flower, hear him out. But if you’re really done with him, just remember who gave you a place to crash in Vegas.”

  I smile weakly at his flirting, which he can’t seem to turn off, while the tattoos and piercings peek at me from his hard body. He winks and then goes over to greet McKenna.

  Next, Suzanne gives me a huge hug. “I’ve given him holy hell, Rose. I told him Emma can’t listen to his albums until he fixes this.” I offer her a wobbly smile.

  Dan gives me a kiss on the cheek and says, “He’s my best friend. Please, talk with the idiot.”

  I brace myself for the last person to come to me. This was all perfectly orchestrated; Greta couldn’t have done it any better. My heart jumps into hyperdrive.

  Cole takes both of my cold hands in his large, warm, calloused ones. “Rose, thank you for letting me stay.”

  His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t say another word. He slides into the seat next to mine, releasing my right hand only. McKenna grabs my newly-freed hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. The waiter appears with our drinks. On autopilot, I give him my dinner order.

  I don’t know what to do, what to say, what to feel. Extricating my left hand from his, I grab my white wine and take a sip, then place the glass down with care, trying to swallow. It’s hard to do over the lump in my throat. Cole’s scent wafts over to me, and everything south of my waist clenches.