by Laura Burton
I open and close my mouth as Olly springs to mind. Did he tell her he was helping? Did someone tip her off that Blaze helped out as well?
“This is what happens, Leila,” Harper says with a simple shrug. “When you fool around with a celebrity, people start looking you up and digging for skeletons. And your closet is chock full of them.”
She picks up her phone and starts to scroll. “You’ve had twenty-six jobs in the last decade. No college qualifications… You live with a sister who works for a small magazine, Young and Me, and there’s absolutely nothing in my research to suggest you’ve ever been a personal shopper before.”
I gulp, wondering how on Earth she got all of that information.
Apparently, she’s not done.
“But there’s one person in your social circle that is a personal shopper––Josie Black.
She’s highly recommended among celebrities, and married to a football star, Logan Black.” She slams her phone down and glares at me. “Tell me the truth. You’re a fake; you’re just here to pick up a story for your sister and her pathetic magazine.”
I’m so shocked by the wild accusation that a bubble of laughter flies out of my mouth before I can stop it. “That’s not true.”
Harper gives me a steely look, but I must look convincing because she puffs air from her nose like an angry dragon and picks up her mug again. “Then what is it? Because something feels off with you. You’re either a fraud or just a…”
“Terrible personal shopper,” I finish for her with a nod.
Well, the cat’s out of the bag now, no point trying to hide it anymore.
An arched brow rises and stays up on Harper’s perfect face as I explain all about the mix-up after I stepped in to cover for Josie in New York. I tell her that Blaze knew all about it but insisted I come along anyway.
Harper scratches her arm. “Hmm. So he hired you because… You are his shiny new object.”
I frown, but I can’t argue. I guess when you boil it down, that’s the truth. Now I’m reminded of why I resisted him for so long.
Harper rests a hand on her chest and takes a deep breath. “Well, I’m relieved you’re not spying on us for your sister’s magazine.”
I shake my head. “I would never do that.”
Harper seems to be feeling better, but I feel worse. “Right. Well, here’s my list.” Harper hands me a piece of paper. I look at it and my heart sinks at the number of items. My dismay must have shown on my face because Harper’s brows pinch together. “What’s the matter?”
I look up at her with a nervous laugh. “I just thought, since you know I’m a fake now, that you would…”
“What? Just stand by and watch you fool around with Blaze for the rest of the trip?” Harper says, her words slicing through me like daggers. I motion to the list.
“But some of these… Like picking up your dry cleaning, aren’t really part of the job description.”
Harper crosses her arms. “They are now. You see, I’m going to keep you so busy, you won’t have time to seduce Blaze. And you will do whatever I ask.”
I ball my hand into a tight fist and grind my teeth. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because if you don’t do what I say, I’ll make sure Josie doesn’t get another client, ever again. I’ll tell the press that you’re a gold-digger and a fraud, and by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be entirely unemployable.”
I take a step toward her, anger rising to the surface. “Is that a threat?”
Harper’s upper lip rolls back as she sneers at me. “No, darling, it’s a promise. Now, I suggest you get to work. I’ll have another list for you tomorrow.”
“What?!”
Harper saunters out of the suite, her ponytail swooshing from side to side. She gives me a little wave before the door swings shut behind her.
I turn on the spot, looking around at the vacant suite. “What am I doing here?” I ask aloud. My mind is spinning faster than a hamster wheel, but I manage to make it settle on three thoughts:
I’m not waiting around in Blaze’s suite like a sitting duck.
I’m not a shiny ball to be played with, and
Harper Jewel cannot blackmail me and get away with it.
Resolved, I pick up my jacket and charge out the door.
Thank goodness for time zones. Even though it’s late in Paris, it’s early afternoon back home. After darting out of the hotel through the back, I climb into a cab and call for backup.
“Wait, I need a second to process all of this,” Josie says. I’ve just filled her in on everything that happened at top speed, barely taking a moment to breathe. I’m not surprised she’s overwhelmed. I am too.
Chessy jumps on the group call, her voice all breathy and excited. “Leila, that kiss was HOT! It’s all over the news!”
I recoil in my seat as a rush of heat floods my cheeks. “It is?”
I haven’t even had the time to give the media scandal a second thought. I’m not one to read the news or even pick up magazines. But Chessy is, and the thought of my baby sister watching me make out with Blaze makes me nauseous.
What kind of big sister does something so ridiculously reckless?
“What were you thinking?” Lucy butts in. I didn’t even know she’s on the call until now. “You two could have fallen off the Eiffel Tower! You’d have ended up on the sidewalk like a couple of squashed bugs.”
There’s a disgusted silence, then Josie speaks up. “Thanks for that image, Lucy.”
I smirk. What I did was totally risky, but honestly, falling off the Tower––which has pretty high railings by the way––was not on my list of concerns.
“Listen, I don’t care what kind of threats Harper dealt out. You’re not breaking your back bending over for the woman,” Josie says, her tone bossy. “Besides, I’m going to be taking some time off for a while, so don’t even think about playing the martyr, okay?”
I nod and let out a shaky breath. It’s comforting to listen to my best friend and my sisters, even if they’re not much more than disembodied voices right now.
“I’m also not going to let Harper throw your reputation under a bus,” I argue back.
“Hey, Lucy,” Chessy chimes in. “Could you maybe squeeze in a feature about Harper in that magazine you work for?”
“What kind of feature?” Lucy asks. Interestingly, I don’t hear disapproval in her voice.
Chessy hums in thought. “How about, ‘Jewel of Hollywood, or Jewel in the Butt? Harper Jewel Reported to Have Blackmailed Her Aides and Left One of Her Personal Shoppers in Tears!”
They all laugh, but I shake my head. “We’re not doing that, you guys. It’ll just be stooping down to her level.”
Chessy makes a disgruntled sound while Lucy murmurs her agreement.
“I could write something like that and keep it in my drawer. You know, just as a last resort.”
I frown at my knees and pick at the hem of my skirt. “I don’t know. That kind of report could really damage her reputation. You know how the media is.”
“But you can’t answer her every beck and call. Besides, she clearly wants to keep you as far away from Blaze as possible,” Josie points out. “What I’m wondering is why?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Josie’s got a point,” Lucy says. “Blaze has a reputation for being a ladies’ man. He’s probably fooled around with loads of women on his press tours.”
I swallow a groan. The thought of Blaze being with any other woman makes me want to punch something. But Lucy’s right.
“So, why you? Why now? What is it about you that makes Harper so uncomfortable?” Lucy presses.
Chessy gasps. “Oh, my gosh. You guys, she’s into him!”
“What?!” Josie and I say at once. Lucy hums.
“That makes a lot of sense. She’s been flirting with him a lot during their interviews, haven’t you noticed?” Lucy says. I chew my lip.
No, I hadn’t noticed. Mostly because I’ve
been too busy shopping for Harper while she and her co-stars carried out their engagements during the day.
“You think Harper wants to be with Blaze?” I ask.
“Well, one thing is certain. She doesn’t want you around him.”
I look out the dark window, watching the city race past and the streetlamps blur in streaks of amber and yellow.
“I know what I need to do,” I announce. The line falls silent and I can just picture my two sisters and Josie straining to hear.
“What?” Lucy asks, when I don’t speak. I grin to myself.
“I’m going rogue.”
Chapter 18
Blaze
“Blaze, I don’t expect you to behave like a saint, but while you’re on tour, I’m in charge of your security.” Martin’s nostrils haven’t stopped flaring since I entered his room. Harry sits at the breakfast bar, swirling the drink in his hand. He looks far too calm.
I sit still and listen to Martin vent about public relations, media frenzies, unwanted scandals, and yada, yada.
Martin knows by now that I’m a loose cannon. This isn’t the first time I’ve been in the middle of a media storm. Last year, I was photographed walking out of a McDonald’s with three Big Macs in my arms.
My manager told me it wasn’t a good look for my vegan fans, but I did gain favor with a few hunting magazines.
There was that other time the tabloids picked up that I’d been talking to the President’s underage daughter. Nothing happened. There was a party at the White House and I was asking her where the bathroom was.
But we were pictured together, and like they say, a picture says a thousand words. What people don’t say is that those words aren’t always necessarily the truth.
Truth doesn’t come into it when it comes to the press.
Now there’s a video trending of Leila and I kissing.
To my relief, the footage is so dark and grainy, I can barely see anything other than what looks like two figures hugging. But none of this matters to Martin.
The fact is, the video has ramped up public attention, and paparazzi are going to be a nightmare for the rest of our stay in Paris.
“You’re to stay in your suite when we’re not doing interviews,” Martin says, pointing at me like I’m a child he’s telling off.
I glance at Harry. “Seriously?”
Harry clears his throat and shifts in his seat but doesn’t say anything.
I turn my gaze back to Martin; he’s giving me a look, daring me to argue.
“Fine!” I say. “I’ll stay in my suite.”
Good thing Leila is going to be in there with me. The thought of being locked up with her doesn’t sound like a punishment at all.
Pleased with my obedience, Martin nods and picks up his phone. “Now, I’ve got to make a few calls and arrange more security.” He marches out without another word.
Now that we’re alone, Harry sets down his glass and clears his throat. His eyes linger on me and I can’t work out what he’s thinking.
“What?” I ask him, when he doesn’t quit staring. Harry shrugs.
“You just remind me a lot of my big brother, is all.”
I join him at the breakfast bar and pour myself a drink. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Neither.” Harry smiles. “He’s passionate too, and has never had a problem with PDA.”
I take a swig of my drink and smack my lips together. “If memory serves me, you weren’t exactly discreet when you were dating Julie.”
Harry straightens his back and his smile fades. “I paid a price for that. If I’d been more careful, she might not have––”
“Nobody could have prevented that from happening,” I cut in. I know all about the scandal around Julie Jackson. She almost died, but not because they were fooling around in public. Harry just trusted the wrong people.
That’s not my problem anyway. I am the least trusting man I know.
In fact, my problem is probably the fact I don’t let people in. Not fully, at least.
I’m the funny guy; the jovial, carefree guy with no worries.
But underneath the sunny exterior is a darkness that even I don’t fully understand.
“So, this girl, Leila…” Harry begins, clearly wanting to get off of the topic of his wife and their dark past. “Is she someone you’re having fun with, or is there more?”
I rub the back of my neck and sigh. “We’re definitely having fun,” I confess, grinning again. “But it’s not the type of fun you’re thinking.”
Harry’s left brow lifts. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yes,” I say. “We’ve been going on little adventures, talking about our families. We’ve gone out to eat, a lot.”
Harry takes a sip of his drink. “Interesting.”
“What?”
I try to study Harry’s expression, but he’s unreadable. He rises to a stand and picks up his jacket with a sigh. “So you enjoy spending time with her,” he says, putting on his jacket. I nod.
“I do. And I think about her a lot. Probably a lot more than I should.”
“Well, then, I trust she’s safe with you. I won’t stand in your way.”
With a jolt, I remember I left Leila in my suite, and I head for the door, my heart racing.
Back at my suite, I push through the doors and begin to apologize. “Sorry about that––” But then I stop short at the sight of an empty room, my heart sinking. With the kind of uncanny timing you only get in horror movies, a text pops up on my phone from her.
Please accept this as my formal notice… I quit, effective immediately.
Harper must have said something to her. I slam my fist on the granite worktop with a frustrated grunt. I knew I shouldn’t have left Leila alone with that toxic woman.
But I’m not going to let her run away that easily. I can’t.
Chapter 19
Leila
“Olly, are you up?”
I bang on the door until it opens to reveal a surprisingly disheveled and grumpy-looking man. His skinny face looks even more gaunt than usual. He has dark rings under his eyes and his hair is strewn all over his head like hay.
“What do you want?” Olly asks, cleaning his glasses with his gray cotton shirt.
Unfazed by his dim mood, I step into his room. “What are you doing today?”
Olly shoots me a hard look, “Sure, come on in…” he mutters sarcastically. Then he sighs. “I have to be at the Pavilion in half an hour to make sure the team does their job.”
I cross my arms, nodding along. “And their job is to get the actors ready for their public appearances, right?”
“Correct.”
“And what do you all do after that?” I ask.
Olly looks at me like I just asked him if I can borrow his underpants. “Why do you want to know?”
I puff out a nervous breath. “Because I want to help you out. You’ve been a lifesaver, and now I want to return the favor.”
“Don’t you have other… pressing engagements?” Olly peers over his glasses at me. “We’ve all seen the news, darling.”
I swallow hard. Now I know why Olly is in such a bad mood this morning.
“No,” I say, pushing my embarrassment away.
“But you’ve got a job to do too,” Olly presses. “And other duties to fulfil, so it seems.”
I frown at him. “No, I don’t. I’m not here to… to…”
“Be Harper’s slave and Blaze’s little plaything?”
“No!” I bark, fury boiling up inside of me. I want to say he’s got it wrong. But the real reason I’m annoyed is that Olly’s right. That’s exactly what Harper wants me to be, and what she said I am to Blaze.
I guess that’s how everyone sees it now, and I’m beginning to wonder if that’s how Blaze sees me too.
“I’m not working for either of them anymore. I quit this morning.”
Olly laughs for the first time, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, you poor, naive soul.”
“What?”
“You don’t just quit. Until we’re back in New York, they own you.”
I give him a cold look. “Nobody owns me.”
As if on cue, my phone vibrates. I glance at the screen to see Blaze’s name. Then I meet Olly’s knowing grin. “Are you sure about that?”
I stuff my phone in my pocket, ignoring the call. “So, do you want my help today or not?” I ask him, crossing my arms again.
Olly inclines his head with a strange smile. “Thank you, but no, thank you. I already have plans with an old friend after I’m done. So I won’t be requiring your assistance today.”
Ouch.
I drop my arms. “But I thought we were friends.”
Olly scoffs. “Look, if you’re serious about quitting, I’ll help you get on the next flight to New York. But let’s be clear, we’re not friends.”
Frowning, I start to back out of his room. Olly follows me until I step out into the hall again, then he clutches the door. “Now, unless the hotel is burning down, or there’s a sale on at Prada, don’t interrupt me in the morning ever again.” He slams the door so hard, the picture frames rattle on the walls. I stand there stunned.
Clearly, Olly is not a morning person. He’ll come around, I tell myself.
We are friends. We have to be. I can’t cope with the idea of being stuck in Paris without any allies. I turn around to go back into my room, looking at the worn carpet between my toes.
Now what?
I have no idea how Harper is going to react when she finds out that I quit, and Blaze won’t leave my mind.
“Ooof!”
I bump into something hard, but when I see a pair of Armani sneakers, the same pair I purchased in London, I realize I didn’t bump into something, but someone.
Slowly, I lift my gaze to meet Blaze’s intense stare. It’s like I’ve just taken a shot of adrenaline––my whole body begins to tingle. I step back and glance at Olly’s door, wondering how good the sound proofing is in this old hotel.