Back To Good

by Laura Benson

  “We can’t, Matthew.” I closed my eyes, shaking the immodest thoughts creeping through my head. I didn’t believe a word I was saying and I wished I was anywhere but trapped in that room with Matthew. It felt like he was growing larger and taking up all the space in the room.

  “Can’t or won’t?” he asked, his voice tight.

  I tried to take a calming breath. “Is there a difference?” I continued to chew on my lip. Trying like hell to stop the trembling running through my overheated body, I moved away from him slightly.

  He looked me over, no doubt noticing the pink hue to my skin that he caused. My nipples harden as he continued his perusal of my body. He looked dead-straight into my eyes, then quickly dropped his gaze to my lips, as I licked them.

  In one quick stride, he swept his tongue across my wanting lips. As much as I wanted it and him, I tried to find the strength to back up but these kisses were just too good to stop. Placing my hands on his chest, I finally managed to pull away and crash back into the counter. The wind knocked out of me, yet Matthew still caged me with hands on either side of my body. Yes, we could’ve finished what we started last night, but I was embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what happened last night. This morning I suspected he’d had time to think about what he wanted. He continued to look at my lips like they were the only thing in the world that would satisfy his hunger.

  I closed my eyes, knowing this was a fight I was losing. Before long, his lips came down so softly and swiftly again I didn’t even think to push him back. No, I opened myself to him and allowed him to kiss me with all the passion of a crazy person. I tried pulling him closer to me—while my warring egos were forcing me to pull away and stop this craziness—but there was really nowhere for him to go. I just let go and went with it. My hand dug into his shoulders as his fingers slid up my neck, and he wrapped my ponytail around his hand. With the purchase he now had, he forced my head up and continued kissing my neck, then traveled to that spot behind my ear that caused a sensual whimper to escape.

  “We…need…to stop,” I breathed as he kissed my neck, lightly sucking my sensitive skin.

  “No,” he growled. “I want you, Charlie, and I should’ve had you last night, but you needed more time.” His hands were moving rapidly and trailing all over my body until I was completely lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “Matthew, please, people will walk in,” I whimpered into his mouth as I heard voices in the hallway. I placed both of my hands on his cheeks to pry him away, even though it was the last thing I wanted.

  He staggered back as if shocked by electricity and rubbed both hands down his face, then he ruined his neatly arranged hair by running one of them through it. “What the fuck are you doing to me, Charlie?”

  I stood there for a moment, panting. I had no words. I didn’t know what I was doing. All I did know was that we had to stop whatever this was. It wasn’t fair to Joey or Matthew. I didn’t think of myself, but knowing how guarded I’d kept my heart, there was the very real possibility that this could get messy quickly.

  “I’m Joey’s publicist, Matthew,” I reasoned with him while I still ached for him. “Also his ex-girlfriend. What part of messy don’t you understand?”

  He opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Instead he just turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. I sank against the counter and took a few breaths. What the hell was happening to me? How was I allowing my body to rule my brain? I’d not once thought of Matthew in a sexual way. Never thought we’d ever get to this point. But damn, did I want to go there with him. I knew I was using Joey as an excuse, but I was so confused I didn’t know what else to say. My conflicted feelings for Matthew warred with what was right and wrong.

  With coffee in hand, I finally made my way to my office. I had a couple of calls and needed to call Daddy and Andrew back. I figured Andrew would be the easiest one to deal with, so I called him first.

  “How’s it going, Charlie?” he asked in a nice, concerned manner.

  “Not too bad,” I said, trying to hide the shake in my voice. “We had a good turnout at the record store last night. Joey was on point, and it was a great time. Just waiting for the morning he’s on the radio show.”

  “I’ve noticed he’s managed to stay out of water fountains, and the news,” he chuckled, but I knew he was trying to get some gossip out of me. I tried not to chuckle.

  “Yes, Andrew, keeping that nose of his clean. Literally and figuratively.” I sighed.

  “Well,” he muttered despondently. “You’re missed in the office. The coffee here has sucked since you’ve been gone.”

  I rolled my eyes and barked out a laugh. “There’s a Keurig in the break room,” I reminded him.

  “Okay, well then the conversation is lacking. That damn machine won’t even talk to me.” He joked.

  Another eye roll. “I miss you too, Andrew,” I said fondly. “Daddy called yesterday, anything going on I should know about? I’ve been purposely avoiding him.”

  He informed me that nothing major was going on back in Phoenix; well, nothing majorly important. Tad was his normal domineering self, and he wasn’t a bit concerned with his only daughter living the high-life in L.A. I laughed at that lie, as we made a little smaller talk, and I let him go. I needed to call Joey anyway.

  He and I had planned to have lunch to go over questions that I would send over to the station. To say that I was nervous was an understatement. After what transpired with Matthew, last night and this morning, I felt like I was losing control, and I didn’t need Joey finding out about any of this.

  He’d made reservations at The Ivy, an upscale, celebrity hangout that for some reason made me even more nervous. I took a cab to the restaurant nervously hoping that I was dressed okay. I knew it was only lunch, but the idea of being around the rich and famous was a bit distracting. Before stepping out of the cab, I paid and tipped the driver. I made my way into the restaurant and gave my name and party. “Of course, Ms. Banks, Mr. Carino is already waiting for you,” the hostess mentioned. I tried to control my heartbeat with deep breaths and not looking around at the various celebrities that I knew were already there. Once I was brought to my table, Joey stood up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek and a full-body hug. We made light chit-chat before I handed him the list of questions. The idea was that we’d go over what was and wasn’t allowed.

  “You know I don’t care about this shit, Charlie,” he said exasperatedly, looking over the questions then tossing the paper back at me.

  I quirked a brow at him, placing the paper directly in front of me. “Joey, I understand you want to be an open book, but you need to at least have an air of mystery around you.”

  He snorted as I realized what I said was completely ridiculous. “I have no secrets. I am an open book.” He looked over the menu.

  I glanced around at the uppity lunch crowd. Some were having meetings, probably making multimillion dollar deals, and there we were, going over interview questions.

  “What?” I took a sip of my water before finishing. “If someone asks you about your social life or who you’re dating? What if they ask about me?” I asked pointedly.

  “I can handle that,” he said easily, a smile crossing his face, but I wasn’t sure I truly believed him. Why else would I be here?

  I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why did we come here for lunch?” It was a sad attempt at changing the subject. but Joey shrugged like it didn’t matter. Now it was my turn to be exasperated. “Okay, spill it, what is going on with you?”

  Joey sagged back into his chair with a dramatic sigh. “I’m just tired, Charlie.” Maybe he had a point there, there were bags under his eyes, but something else had to be going on.

  “Is my being here distracting you?” It was a pointed question, and I wanted an answer.

  Joey leaned forward on the table, his arms in front of him. “Jesus, Charlie, you’re sexy as fuck. I haven’t seen you in three goddamn years, and all of sudden here you are takin
g charge of my life. Telling me what to do, who to do, and when to do it. Yeah, it’s a bit distracting,” he said, rubbing his eye with his index finger.

  I squirmed in my chair feeling badly that he had all these conflicting emotions because of my arrival. In reality, I honestly had the same issues. Anything between us was definitively over, but I still cared for him, always would. Like the saying: ‘You never forget your first.’

  “I understand how you feel, Joey,” I said honestly, “trust me, I do. But we both have a job to do, and I want to make sure that you come out on top. Your popularity is important, and I know you still want to be relevant. That is what I’m here to do.” My hope was that I would come out of this with my sanity still intact.

  His green eyes pinned me in my seat as I started to say something else. Here I was having lunch with Joey Carino, who thousands of women would give their left tit to be with, and I’m telling him that he’s just a job to me. When did this get all so ridiculously complicated?

  A young girl came up to our table, giddily asking Joey for his autograph. As it was not welcomed at The Ivy, Joey tried to do it as surreptitiously as possible. He gave her a slight kiss on the cheek, thanking her for being a fan. She pressed a hand to her cheek and sauntered off in a daze.

  With our food finally delivered, we ate quietly. I got the overpriced Caesar salad, and he had the overly heavy and expensive lobster mac n’ cheese. “How’s your food?” I asked after taking a bite of my salad.

  “It’s good, you want to try some?” he held out his fork, but I shook my head no. We skipped coffee and dessert, so Joey got the check and paid with a black credit card that only rich millionaires are privy to. When we finally got up to leave, the maître d’ informed us that paparazzi had staked out the front door. Whether they were there for Joey or the bazillion other big name celebrities wasn’t known, but we took caution.

  Joey was in front of me, and as we made it to the door, he grabbed my hand, pulling me behind him. The paparazzi were ferocious with their snapping cameras and flashers going off. I felt like I was being blinded, and it almost sounded like a thousand automatic rifles being fired at one time. People were yelling for Joey to stop and take a picture. Photographers were asking if I was his girlfriend. The whole thing was a mob scene. One photographer got so close I nearly collided with him.

  I tried backing up, but there were too many people engulfing us.

  Joey, still holding my hand, turned around and pushed the offending photographer back. “Your parasites, leave her the fuck alone!” he shouted.

  I stood there speechless.

  “C’mon miss, you can tell us!” an anonymous photographer yelled out. “What’s your name?”

  Another one asked for Joey to wrap his arm around my shoulder for that million-dollar pic. I could barely see two inches in front of me with all the flashes. I didn’t even understand why they needed such strong flashes with the bright sun outside. I held my hand up to protect my eyes when a surge in the crowd pushed me forward. I flung my hands out to find my balance, but it was too late, I realized as my hands and knees collided with the sidewalk. I could feel the gravel digging into my palms and my knees burning from being skinned. Looking up, all I could see were throngs of people descending to where I was, and they weren’t about to help me. I could hear voices from the crazy fans that had gathered to get to Joey.

  “Hey!” I growled as some fan stepped on my pinkie. Goddammit that stung! I tried to push myself up, but the surge kept coming. I knew I was going to get trampled. I tried like crazy to push myself up, but people were still pushing into me. I couldn’t even catch my breath. I was absolutely petrified that no one would be able to get to me. I covered my head as people stumbled over me, I was trying with all my might to yell for Joey. After what seemed like hours, people finally disbursed and Joey was there—looking angelic with the sun backlighting him— picking me up from the ground. My pants were ruined with a hole in the knee, and I was certain the back of my shirt was ruined from being walked over. I was sore and shaking.

  “Are you okay, Charlie?”

  The tears poured down my cheeks as I looked around at the paparazzi still shooting. Was this for real? Was this Joey’s life? Utter chaos? I couldn’t imagine it. The shock of not being able to walk around without being grabbed and groped, or not knowing if you’d be able to get away from a mob of screaming fans when they descended upon you like Jesus striking down a sinner. Even though I was injured and scared, my heart was breaking for him.

  Joey wrapped me in his arms, hiding my head in his chest. Grown-up me would’ve fought it, but at the moment I felt weak and helpless. I couldn’t fight. All I wanted was to be comforted. So I let him comfort me as he attempted to carry me to his car.

  “I’m so sorry, Joey. I didn’t realize how bad this would be.” It was then that the tears came down in torrents.

  The paparazzi were insistent and didn’t leave us alone until finally the police arrived so we could get to the car without any more incidents. I was a mess. My clothes were ruined, and my hair was pulled out of the ponytail that I stuck it in this morning. I had scrapes on my palms and knees. Once we got into the car, Joey looked me over, checking my head for any cuts. Thankfully, the only thing that was really ruined was my pride. I was sure I’d be the laughing stock of the tabloids by the morning.

  I roughly brushed the tears from my cheeks, refusing to allow myself to wallow or feel sorry for myself. I just happened to get stuck in the middle of a furious mob, and I survived. That was a fucking accomplishment as far as I was concerned.

  Joey cupped my cheek with his hand, using his thumb to rub the dirt off of it. “Are you okay?” He sounded sincere, but I could tell with the pulsing of his jaw that he was itching to fight with someone.

  A sob escaped my throat, and he pulled me closer. When he brought his hand to the back of my head, I flinched.

  “Dammit,” he cursed. “You’re bleeding a little bit.”

  “Just,” I faltered a bit. “Take me back to Matthew’s office, please. He might have a first-aid kit around.” What if I had a concussion?

  Joey was thinking the same thing. “Charlie, what if you have a concussion?” Joey twisted his body to check the cut, but he said it didn’t look bad, just badly placed. When we were finally able to get away with the help of a traffic cop, we rode in silence.

  “I haven’t seen it that bad in a while, Charlie,” Joey said quietly as we turned down Robertson Boulevard, the police still giving us a usual procession.

  “I guess if you throw in fresh blood, the sharks circle venomously.” I grimaced. “I honestly thought I’d never get up. Having people walk on me was the scariest thing ever. Those people are fucking crazy.” I closed my eyes, trying to forget the feeling of being helpless. But the tears still tracked down my cheeks.

  He nodded, but kept his eyes on the road. Thankfully, we were only ten minutes from Matthew’s office. When I walked by Debbi’s desk, and she stared at me openmouthed, I had a feeling it wasn’t because Joey was escorting me. She’d seen him more times than she could count on both hands. She probably didn’t expect me to come back, looking like I had been mauled by a lion.

  “What the hell happened to you?” she asked curiously as her brown eyes rounded to the size of dinner plates.

  “Crazy fans and paparazzi,” I said mockingly, my body still a bundle of shaking nerves.

  She shook her head and muttered something unintelligible.

  “Do you have a first-aid kit? I’m bleeding a bit on my scalp.” I asked, walking gingerly over to Debbi’s desk.

  Watching me, she jumped up immediately and pulled down a kit from the cabinet behind her. “Take the whole thing. Do you want me to help you?” she asked, concern littering her expression.

  I smiled genuinely at her, trying not to wince at the pain in my head. “I should be fine. Is Matthew here?”

  “Yeah, he’s eating his lunch in his office.” She looked at me kindly, her expression sad. “Want me
to tell him you’re both here?”

  I turned to Joey, who shook his head no. “I’ll just head down to his office,” he said.

  Debbi shrugged her answer and buzzed him in.

  “I’m going to fix up in the bathroom,” I told the both of them.

  Joey nodded and walked away. Debbi just gave me a sad smile.

  In the bathroom, I was better able to see the damage. My hair was a mess, my mascara was leaking down my face, and my body was sore. Carefully, I tugged the hairband out of my hair and washed the back of my scalp with a soapy paper towel. I winced from the pain, but it was a necessary evil. It had to be cleaned. Because my hair was long, I wasn’t able to put any anti-biotic ointment on it. I just cleaned it the best I could and ran a few more wet paper towels over the other dirty parts of me. I tried scrubbing my face of leftover traces of makeup, but my eyes were bright red and swollen from the tears. Taking in my reflection, I sighed. Now I’d have to go back to the hotel to change. With that decision made, I decided I’d be better off soaking in a bath and working from there.

  I was finishing up when I heard a commotion outside the ladies room, and then the door flew open. Matthew was standing in the doorway, panting, looking like he could murder someone right then and there. His eyes had a wild look to them that I’d never seen before.

  Joey stood behind him, his eyes wide like saucers. He cocked his head to the side as if he were questioning me. Or maybe he was questioning Matthew’s insane reaction.

  Matthew’s eyes were everywhere, taking me in, searching for injuries. His hands were balled into white-knuckled fists. “What the fuck…” He stopped and wheeled around to Joey who stepped back a bit. “This is your fault, asshole.”

  “I’m fine,” I said weakly, pushing myself back against the tiled bathroom wall.

  Matthew stalked over to me, studying me still, taking my hand, turning me around so he could look at my scalp which Joey must’ve told him was bleeding. I stifled a cry as he parted the hair and took a closer look. “Just a scrape, Charlie.” I was surprised at the relief in his voice. “You got it cleaned up nicely.”