You and Me Forever: Sweet Contemporary Romance (Magnolia Beach Book 3)

by Cynthia Swan

  Copyright © 2020 by Cynthia Swan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Also by Cynthia Swan

  1

  The door to the spartan dusty bathroom hit the wall with a bang followed by low voices and mean laughter.

  Christy Evans pressed a hand over her mouth to smother the soft sobs so they wouldn’t realize she was hiding in one of the bathroom stalls.

  “Can you believe her?”

  There was a snort. It was mean Tyra with the fabulous corkscrew curls.

  “The Ice Queen?”

  It sounded like the model with the waterfall of silky black hair.

  “She had the nerve to have her phone read the article about Sara out loud. As if any of us want to hear the awful details again.”

  Christy could hear the sneer in Tyra’s voice.

  There was a low, ugly giggle. “I know she’s ‘the face’ right now, but she’s such a snob, thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

  One of the models laughed. It sounded like the redhead. Christy heard the girl saying she’d just turned thirteen.

  “When you told her Sara overdosed, she just looked at you, didn’t shed a single tear. I thought they were best friends.”

  Christy braced a hand on the cool tiled wall, heedless of the mildew staining the grout, and leaned forward to peer through the crack in the door at the other models. There were four of them, all there to shoot an ad for a new collection of shoes and handbags.

  There was a snort.

  “She’s not friends with anyone. Sara was on her way out, too difficult to work with. Christy the Ice Queen probably made them get rid of her and then acted like she didn’t have a clue what happened.” Tyra smiled, a mean smile that didn’t reach her big brown eyes.

  “She might be on top for now, but she’s getting older, not like she can hold on to the top spot forever.”

  Poor Sara. The news broke her heart. They’d bonded over movies and how to deal with the fake and mean people in the industry. Christy knew her friend had been drinking more, but she’d had no idea about the pills. Why hadn’t Sara confided in her?

  The pressure in this industry was intense. Not only to be young and thin but to have a huge social media following, and to make sure everyone saw you in the best light.

  In the past year there’d been more diversity and even a few plus sized models, but overall? Christy and Sara had clauses in their contracts regarding weight gain. The industry still had a long way to go.

  It was a business designed to chew you up and spit you out. Another tear fell, and she wiped it away. Her heartbreak was private, not for her enemies to sneak photos of her in tears and post them on social media. No way would she give them the satisfaction.

  After the door banged shut, her fellow models laughing and gossiping as they left, Christy waited several minutes, then unlocked the stall door and went to the sink.

  When it was full of icy cold water, she held her signature long thick blond hair back and plunged her face in, holding her breath until she thought she’d pass out.

  When she dried her face, she risked a look in the mirror. A perfect face with big blue sad eyes stared back at her. A few minutes in the make-up chair and no one would know how much Sara’s death affected her.

  Because the one thing Christy knew?

  Never let those hyenas see you cry. They’d tear you apart in a second. No weakness, no matter what.

  With a smile plastered across her face, she opened the door and strode down the hallway, long legs eating up the bright corridor. Tyra and the others could call her whatever they wanted, Christy refused to play their ugly games.

  Later that night after the shoot wrapped, Christy stretched out on the sofa in her apartment, the sounds of the city in the background, talking to her manager and close friend, Jo.

  “You have the sunglasses ad for Chanel and then, I can’t believe it but there’s nothing on your schedule for the next three months. It’s too bad that small car company went bankrupt, they had you booked for the time. You would have made a fortune.”

  The sound of pages turning sounded in the background. Jo loved pretty planners. She also kept Christy’s schedule on her phone and tablet, but said she liked the feel of paper, turning the pages and adding pretty stickers. Christy shuddered at the thought.

  “We need to fill those months. Are you sure you don’t want the perfume gig? Or how about the vodka gig?”

  The sound of ice crunching filled her ear. Jo loved ice so much she’d had an ice machine installed in her apartment so she could have the same ice that Sonic made. She’d buy thirty pounds at a time, bringing it back in coolers. The woman crunched ice all day, said it was a replacement for giving up smoking two years ago. Lots of models and others in the business still smoked, but not Christy.

  Christy’s mom, Amy, still smoked and drank. Christy vowed a long time ago she’d never touch cigarettes or drink to excess. She’d seen firsthand what it did to her mom.

  “Christy? I need to book your time. Which jobs do you want?”

  “None. I’m doing the Chanel job and then I’m taking a break.”

  Her voice broke. For the past thirteen years Jo had been her manager and substitute mother, by her side since the day Christy turned ten. Now she was twenty-three and felt like a hundred and three.

  “I need a break, I’ve been working since I was two years old. I’ve done everything my mom ever asked of me. I did whatever everyone else wanted. I don’t know if I like bread or pizza or junk food. Mom never allowed me to eat any of it. That woman had eyes in the back of her head. She could smell a piece of bacon or a bagel from a mile away.”

  A tear slipped down her face. When she was four, her mom divorced her dad. He was husband number three and husband number six, since her mom married him twice. She was now on husband number eight.

  “Sara was kind to everyone. I knew she’d been down lately, but since I hadn’t seen her in a couple of months, I didn’t know how bad it had gotten. Why didn’t she confide in me? I would have come back from Paris early. I would have done anything to get her the help she needed.”

  Jo let out a long sigh.

  “Sara hid her issues. No one knew. I’ve seen a lot of girls come and go in my twenty years in the business. Some can handle the pressures, others quit, and a few let addiction pull them under. There’s nothing you could have done.”

  Ice crunched in her ear.

  “People have to ask for help.” Jo blew her nose.

  “Listen to me, Christy. You’re one in a million. The top supermodel in the business. I know you’ve heard your mom harp on this, but
it has to be said. You’ve had a long career, but you can’t afford to take three months off. People have short attention spans.”

  Her manager was flipping through the pages of her planner again.

  “Take two weeks off, then get back to work. It isn’t good to brood.” Jo paused. “You’re more than just a face and a body. Your looks don’t define you, no matter what this industry says. Never forget that. You are a whole person. You’re kind and you’ve overcome a great deal to get where you are, don’t throw it away.”

  Christy knew Jo was right, but some days it was hard. The ugly comments on social media, the remarks from designers as they dressed the models. Sara based her worth on her looks and what people thought about her. One snide comment from a photographer or a nasty comment on a photo would ruin her mood for weeks.

  “Don’t book another job. I’ve never asked you for anything, Jo. I need to get away. Sara taking her own life made me realize I have to figure out what’s really important. There has to be more to life than work.”

  Christy leaned against the floor to ceiling windows, looking down at the traffic.

  “Would you find me a place? I want to go to Magnolia Beach and see Aunt Alice. If she’ll talk to me.”

  “What happened between your mom and your aunt has nothing to do with you. She’ll be delighted to see you.” Jo hesitated.

  “I’ll find you a place to stay. It’s the end of January, there will be plenty of places to rent. You’ve never been by yourself for longer than a few days, let alone three whole months. Don’t wallow over Sara. You couldn’t have saved her. Take the time you need to recharge and come back to work. We all need purpose in life.”

  Christy wiped her eyes. “Thanks, Jo.”

  The apartment overlooked the park with floor to ceiling windows. Tastefully decorated in neutrals with bright pops of color, it could have belonged to anyone. There weren’t any personal pictures, no pets, nothing to say an actual person lived there. She’d always wanted a cat or a dog, but with the way she worked, it wasn’t possible.

  “Devlin Walker is going to Mint Hill to see his sister. I texted his assistant while we were talking. You can catch a ride on his jet. He’ll be happy to drop you off on the way. The Myrtle Beach International Airport isn’t too far from Magnolia Beach. I’ll leave you a voice mail with the details when I nail down a place for you to stay. Your aunt would love to spend some time with you, want me to let her know you’re coming?”

  “Thanks. No, don’t tell her I’m coming. I’ll go see her once I’m settled.”

  A big name designer let Christy stay in the apartment rent free. Christy liked their clothes and had contacted the up-and-coming designer years ago, offering to model the collection. The fashion magazines couldn’t get enough, and the designer rocketed to success. As a thank you, she let Christy use the apartment since she’d married some big hedge fund guy and moved into his place. She didn’t want to let go of the apartment, so Christy stayed there. It worked out for both of them.

  When you worked all the time, you spent little money, well, most of the time. Some models, like Tyra, spent money faster than they made it. Her wardrobe was free thanks to several designers. She ate less than most kids, and with no siblings it wasn’t like she had many presents to buy at Christmas. Her mom always wanted money, no matter how much Christy gave her, it was never enough.

  Her mom was somewhere in Italy. They talked once a week but other than seeing each other on video calls, hadn’t seen each other in person in years. Her mom preferred living in Europe, marrying up with each rich husband.

  Amy said she was tired of dealing with Christy, handed her over to Jo, and absolved herself of all work and parental responsibilities. Though she sure was happy to accept the money Christy sent each month.

  Since then, Christy got together with her mom whenever they were in the same country at the same time. Jo had been more of a mom to her than her own mom had ever been.

  The clock struck twelve when she slid into the cool cotton sheets. As she lay there, staring out at the city lights, Christy wandered down all those forks in the road that she’d never taken.

  “Let’s go.” Christy pushed the Chanel sunglasses up on her head. Jo would post a few pictures of her wearing the sunglasses for social media. The sunnies were oversized and the blackest black, absolutely perfect for hiding behind.

  “The jet lands in ten.” Jo handed her a heavy tote bag. When she looked inside, she smiled. It was full of books.

  “All the latest bestsellers. I’ve already loaded the audiobooks on your phone and tablet.”

  Christy turned to Jo. “What if I need—”

  Jo pulled her in for a quick hug.

  “You’ll be fine. You can do this. Just like when you were in Paris by yourself. If you need me, I’m only a call or text away.”

  Her manager and friend stepped back.

  “I can’t thank you enough for the cruise.”

  “You haven’t seen your sisters in ages. I thought it would be fun for all of you to get away together.”

  Christy pulled the knit hat down over her ears as the wind blew through her.

  “I’m sorry you had to book your own trip. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Jo blew on her hands. “It’s okay. I know.” She hugged her once more. “Rest and come back to work soon.”

  Christy watched the car until it turned out of the private airport, then the jet was landing.

  By the time she’d settled into the luxurious seat and finished a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a bottle of water, Devlin Walker sauntered out of the bedroom.

  He was the hottest action star around, the darling of Hollywood, and a total jerk. But he’d offered her a lift, so she’d be polite.

  “Hey babe. Looking good.”

  He leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth before she could turn her face.

  “Thanks for the lift.”

  When he turned away, she wiped her sleeve across her mouth. Yuck.

  Devlin sprawled on the leather sofa, cognac in hand, phone glued to his ear for most of the flight. In the rare moments he wasn’t on the phone or stalking his social media accounts, he was staring at her.

  He sipped his drink, watching her as she listened to one of the books Jo packed.

  “We should be a couple. The studio thinks it would improve my image.”

  Shocked, she blinked at him several times. Christy paused the audiobook.

  “You don’t even know me.”

  “Who cares. You’re a supermodel. I’m the hottest actor in town and apparently, an entitled ass. What’s there to know?”

  There was no denying he was attractive. Well muscled, easily six foot four, with a face carved from marble, sun-kissed brown hair and bright green eyes, not to mention lashes any woman would kill for. But his teeth were too white, the veneers too perfect. And let’s not forget, he was a womanizer and a jerk. She shuddered.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m difficult.”

  She picked up her tablet.

  But Devlin just grinned.

  “All beautiful women are difficult, it’s part of the appeal. Anyway, I want a perfect woman on my arm, not like it would be anything serious. We do photos and events together, then you do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

  “No one is perfect.” She scowled. “In other words, you want to date ‘the face’ not me.”

  He took another swig of his cognac.

  “You know it, babe. Not like I expect to discuss world issues or anything. You’re on top now, but who knows how long it will last. Models don’t have a long shelf life.”

  Devlin winked at her. “But me? I’ll still be doing action movies when I’m seventy.”

  Christy narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Gosh, it’s such a nice offer, but no thanks. I want time out of the spotlight, not paparazzi following me twenty-four seven.”

  He cocked his head.

  “What? You think you’re Greta Garbo? That
you can be a hermit and the world will clamor to know what you’re doing, wait until you decide to come out of hiding and welcome you with waiting arms? The world is different now, babe. Any model or actress would kill to be my woman. You’re going to fade away if you’re not out there every day.”

  He looked her up and down.

  “You know, without all that fabulous hair and perfect makeup, no one would recognize you.” He squinted at her through bleary eyes.

  “If you cut all your hair off or dyed it some nerdy girl brown, you’d just be some average-looking chick with a hot body.”

  He smiled wide, teeth blinding in the light. “Is that what you want? To be a nobody?”

  Too stunned to answer, the ringing of his phone spared Christy from answering any more ridiculous questions.

  The thick, long blond hair that was down to her waist was her trademark. Excitement flooded her veins. Devlin the Jerk had given her the best idea. If her aunt would keep her identity a secret, it just might work.

  The attendant refilled her water, giving Christy a look that said, see what I have to put up with?

  If Jo knew what Christy was planning, she’d charter a helicopter off the cruise ship to stop her. Glee filled Christy at the thought of being anonymous for three entire months.

  Once she dropped her bags off at the rental house, she’d go to the nearest store and buy what she needed. Scissors and a box of brown hair dye.

  He said she’d be plain. Plain was good. It meant she’d be free to enjoy her time off.

  Not wanting Devlin to overhear her, Christy went into the bathroom and spoke into the phone, telling Alexa what she wanted to order and yes please, she wanted everything delivered tomorrow.

  Jo had already set up the rental house as her address on the site, so it was easy for her to order anything she wanted.