The Terrible Personal Shopper (Surprised by Love Book 1)

by Laura Burton

  But I’m acutely aware of the silent room, full of people, all staring at me. They’re watching with bated breath.

  Everything in my body is raging with fury over Harper’s actions, and what she did is magnified tenfold because I was having such a good day. Until now, that is.

  When I got out of the shower, Blaze had already left, but there was a long stem rose on the bed and a note with an address and time on it.

  I picked up the rose, twirled on the spot, and sighed. There was just something about knowing Blaze was a gentleman during the night that made me finally decide I could trust him.

  I made up my mind to stop playing games and embrace this relationship one thousand percent.

  I was in such a good mood; I could see it rubbing off on everyone I bumped into. There were cheery beams for me all around when I caught up with the rest of the group. Even Joy and Hope cracked a smile at me when I waved.

  Olly, who was still in a particularly foul mood, almost apologized for his behavior in Paris after I helped him carry his bags to the car waiting outside. “It’s my daughter’s birthday the weekend we get back, and I promised to get her something from Tokyo. She’s obsessed with Japan,” he said. While my mind drew a blank on what kind of gift to take back, I did get a better idea.

  “How about you throw her a Japanese style birthday party?”

  Olly’s frown lifted as he drummed his fingers on his chin. “Go on…”

  I then spent the next hour going over my ideas of all the things he could do to make his daughter’s Japanese birthday party special.

  They could go to the Japanese gardens in New York, eat her favorite noodles with chopsticks. Maybe send paper lanterns into the sky, each one glowing a different color.

  I told him I’d help set up a photo booth with props so she can take fun photos with her friends.

  By the time Harper’s make up was done and she went into the room for interviews, Olly’s mood had lightened and he nearly smiled at me. “Well, I can’t say you have horrible ideas,” he said smoothly, averting his gaze. “I’ll run it by Shelby later.”

  Word has apparently spread, I don’t know how, that Blaze and I are now official. Everyone is now treating me with respect. Some of the assistants even made eye contact. One of the tech guys asked me if I wanted a coffee when he was headed out to grab one for the rest of the group.

  My plan was to go on a romantic date with Blaze, profess my deep feelings for him and finish the night with proverbial fireworks.

  It was going to be the best day of my life.

  Then Blaze’s interview happened.

  I was sat with the stylists, watching the thing on a television in another room. It was all going well. The interviewer asked questions about Demolition Beast, Blaze gave his answers and cracked a few jokes. There were laughs. He had a twinkle in his eye and looked ridiculously handsome.

  Then the interviewer pulled out his tablet and it all went downhill from there.

  Chessy warned me about Harper, but I wasn’t exactly worried because I knew Blaze would never be up for it. He’s made it pretty clear that he dislikes the woman.

  Then I see the photo of him holding her on the sidewalk, looking at her with concern.

  Blaze fumbles with his fingers, and mutters something inaudible like he’s lost the ability to speak. Then our video pops up on the screen. The CCTV footage of Blaze and me having romantic mouth to mouth.

  But when the interviewer asks if the woman in the dark video footage is Harper, Blaze doesn’t deny it!

  What the heck?

  As if things couldn’t get any worse, Harper waltzed in and started sucking his face off right in front of the cameras, after some bogus confession that they’re together!

  Several emotions charge through my body at such a rapid speed, I’m left spinning on the spot, dazed and confused.

  Blaze storms out and our eyes meet. He stares at me, panicked, and his hands reach out in reflex as if he’s expecting me to bolt for the door.

  I probably would have if I wasn’t so shocked.

  When he starts to walk towards me, I take a deep breath and try to force my brain to slow down. Think one thought at a time.

  Do I care about Blaze? Yes.

  Did Blaze profess his love for Harper? No.

  Is that Harper’s red lipstick on Blaze’s mouth? Unfortunately, yes.

  I go on autopilot and clean it off. Meanwhile, Blaze eyes me like I’m a bomb about to detonate at any moment.

  He’s not wrong.

  After all we’ve been through, Harper chooses to throw in a relationship grenade when I’m ready to jump in with both feet and commit.

  The door opens and Harper walks in like an elegant swan. She flicks her hair back and eyes the room with the smuggest smile I’ve ever seen.

  The image sparks a fury inside of me. My body moves of its own accord and marches me to stand in front of Harper. The room is eerily quiet and still and Harper pauses, looking at me with a mixture of delight and slight unease.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I say acidly. To my satisfaction, the words come out so cold and firm, Harper’s eyes flash with what I can only interpret as fear.

  “I warned you,” she said, lifting her shoulders defensively and crossing her arms. “If you didn’t do what I wanted, I would destroy you.”

  “I don’t remember that warning,” I say. “But if you think a little kiss is going to destroy me, you can think again.”

  Harper laughs. “Oh, come on, Leila. Don’t be so I.” She takes a step to pass me but I block her with my body and glare at her until she freezes. Her smile fades. Her upper lip curls back. “Listen here, you entitled brat. You might think you can fool all these people that you’re a decent person, but I see what you really are.”

  I hold her gaze, gritting my teeth. “And what’s that?”

  Harper leans in to whisper in my ear. “A fraud. A nobody. A good for nothing people pleaser who will never be successful. And sooner or later, Blaze will get tired of you and kick you to the curb. I’m actually doing you a favor by quickening the process. You’re welcome.”

  Something snaps inside of me, and for the next minute, all I see is red. I lunge forward, ready to attack the monster woman, but somebody grabs me from behind, so I scramble like a bug with my limbs flailing in the air. The next thought that crosses my mind is, I’m going to jail. Because as soon as I get free, I’m going to pick up a chair and beat Harper to death with it.

  But I can’t break free, Blaze’s familiar scent washes over my senses and I realize he’s the one restraining me. “Let me go, Blaze. Let me at her,” I bark at him.

  “She’s not worth it, Leila. Come on.” He lowers me to the ground but keeps a hold on my arms while Harper looks at me with horror, her eyes watery. She mutters to the other people in the room as they file out. “Did you see her turn on me?”

  The door shuts and the only people left with us are Harry, Blaze’s producer, and his manager, Martin.

  They share a concerned look. The kind that says, “What are we going to do with this problem?”

  I must look wild. But I don’t care what I look like. My blood is boiling and I’m thirsty for revenge.

  Finally, Blaze lets go. I stomp away a few steps and turn to scowl at him. “Why did you do that? I could have had her.”

  Blaze chuckles and a tiny part of me relaxes. Maybe there’s a funny side to this, but I’m struggling to find it. Hopefully, this’ll be one of those hilarious stories we’ll tell the grandkids someday––that time Granny almost beat an actress into a pulp for kissing Grandpa on live TV.

  I drop my shoulders and shut my eyes with an exhale. Thinking about the future is soothing. Will any of this matter in thirty years? No.

  “Okay. Fine. I’m calm. I’ve let it go.” I open my eyes and lift my palms. Blaze chuckles again and takes my hands. “I’m proud of you.” He gives me the softest kiss and my temper fizzles away until I’m nothing but goo inside. “See, this is why
I love you.”

  I open my eyes and blink at him, taking in the words. “You love me?”

  Blaze’s eyes twinkle and his face turns a deep shade of red. But before he can reply, Harry starts to clap, as if he’s been watching a fantastic show and it just ended. “You know; I’ve got to hand it to you, Blaze. I didn’t think you’d pull this off, but you did it.”

  I glance at Harry, confused, then I turn back to Blaze. “Did what? What is he talking about?”

  Blaze gives Harry a hard look like he just let out a big secret and I drop his hands, backing away. “Why do I get the impression you’re about to tell me I’ve been pranked?”

  Harry clears his throat, his eyes flitting between Blaze and me, while Martin taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness in the room.

  I look at Harry again, demanding answers with my eyes. He coughs again. “You’re not being pranked,” he says. “I was just talking about a deal we had.”

  My heart sinks. “A deal?” I’ve seen this movie. Where the girl finds out the whole relationship is a lie born from a stupid bet. I turn to Blaze, looking at him with devastation. “Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

  Harry and Blaze start waving their hands and shaking their heads. “No, no. Harry wanted me to meet with a matchmaker, I said I could find my own woman,” Blaze explains.

  Harry nods along. “Right. And I told him if he wasn’t in a serious relationship by the time we get home, he’s going to book an appointment with the matchmaker.”

  The two men look at me with identical expressions of reassurance. I’m not assured at all.

  “Wait. Let me get this straight,” I say, lifting a finger. “Blaze didn’t want to see a matchmaker, but agreed to, if he didn’t get into a serious relationship by the end of this press tour?”

  Their smiles drop. They probably realize how bad this sounds.

  “I... well…” Blaze scratches the back of his neck.

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I turn to Blaze. “Is this the real reason you hired me?” I whisper, silently begging him to give me some plausible explanation. Anything that does not mean I’ve been lied to all this time and manipulated just so Blaze can avoid losing a bet. But Blaze has no words. He just looks at me, his eyes sad and droopy. The betrayal is too much to bear. “Wow,” I say, and start to back away. The truth just hit me so hard, my insides are trembling. Blaze takes a step forward but he stops when I shake my head.

  “Don’t come near me. Go run to Harper. You two deserve each other.”

  I push past him and fly out the door into the hall, but Blaze is hot on my tail. He grips my shoulders and pushes me against the wall.

  “Leila, don’t be like this. I love you.” He looks at me hard, his eyes pleading.

  But the words sink like rocks to the bottom of my stomach. “Blaze. This isn’t going to work.”

  He doesn’t move, and he still has me pinned to the wall, but his eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

  I shrug out of his hold. “Relationships are built on three things,” I begin, counting them out on my fingers. “Honesty… and we’ve both lied to each other.”

  He doesn’t argue, which gives me the courage to keep talking. “Trust––”

  “We can trust each other,” Blaze says quickly.

  “Can we?” I press. But I don’t wait for a reply. “And commitment… Let’s face it, I was delusional. You are the Blaze Hopkins. You can’t commit to a woman longer than…”

  “You can keep a job?” Blaze finishes for me.

  I close my mouth and give him a steely look. So, this is it? This is the moment our relationship falls down like a house of cards. My body shivers like I just jumped into a pool of freezing cold water.

  I march a few steps away and turn back to give him a final look.

  “Goodbye, Blaze.”

  Then I keep walking, ignoring the sound of him calling my name.

  Chapter 24

  Blaze

  The next week passed by like a weird dream. All I remember are flashes.

  Camera flashes, that is.

  The constant babble of voices from crowd after crowd.

  Jumping from venue to venue and waving like a puppet.

  Smiling for the endless stream of cameras.

  But somewhere in all that craziness, I ate enough food to keep me alive, bench-pressed more pounds than I have in a long time, and slept enough to keep me from hallucinating.

  On the inside, I’ve been numb.

  All I’ve been doing is going through the motions, not mentally present.

  Leila’s final words are etched on my heart, and it throbs constantly.

  “Goodbye, Blaze.”

  This can’t be goodbye. Not forever, at least.

  The end to our fleeting relationship was so sudden, so unexpected, that I don’t think my body has caught up to the fact yet.

  In my sleep, I keep reaching out for her, half-expecting to feel her sleeping next to me.

  Food lacks taste, and I haven’t touched a drink all week.

  Which is good, because with the kind of mental state I’m in, a drop might just land me in rehab.

  It’s the end of the press tour and I don’t know if there’s a single part of me that doesn’t ache. I long for my orthopedic mattress and my twelve hundred thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.

  But there’s one last thing I need to do before I fly back home to New York.

  “Mr. Hopkins?” A petite woman with a long, dark ponytail pops her head into the waiting room. I smile at her and she mirrors it. “Mrs. Marks is ready to see you now. Please follow me.”

  I thank the woman and rise to my feet, grinding my teeth.

  There are a million places I’d rather be right now…

  In the restroom at Death Valley, smack dab in the middle of the summer.

  At the dentist’s getting a root canal without anesthesia.

  On another talk show, with Harper Jewel pretending she’s my best friend.

  It’s not that I blame Jewel for the way things ended between Leila and me. After all, it wasn’t the fact that Jewel made a move and outright lied about our relationship on TV that was the deal breaker.

  The problem was when Harry told Leila I’d made a deal with him.

  I understand how it might look to her, but she was never part of a bet.

  Now her trust is broken, and the Jewel drama was just another reason to cut ties and find a guy with less complications to deal with.

  I get it.

  Besides, she said I couldn’t commit. That’s not true.

  I’ve been eating the same brand of oatmeal since I was a kid. If that’s not commitment, then I don’t know what is.

  Anyway, a deal is a deal. I finished the press tour just as single as when it began, so now, I’m sat opposite the most formidable woman I’ve ever heard of.

  Emily Marks.

  She has her dark hair smoothed back into a bun, and she presses her lips together, thick lashes fluttering as she eyes me up and down.

  “So, Blaze…” she begins, lowering her hands to her desk with a frank look.

  “You’re a friend of Harold, I take it?”

  I want to laugh. No one calls Harry Jackson, Harold. Except his mother, maybe.

  But I’m not in the mood for conversation and just want this appointment to be over with as quickly as possible.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Emily picks up a pen and starts scribbling something on a notepad. I wonder what she could possibly have to note from my response.

  “Harold tells me you feel like you’re missing something in your life. Care to elaborate on that?” Emily asks. She’s clearly not interested in small talk either.

  I puff out my cheeks with an exhale and glance out of the floor to ceiling windows at the view of downtown L.A. “Well, he thinks I’m missing a partner to experience life with,” I say, deciding that I may as well be honest with the woman.

  She hums and I
look at her again. Her pen is flying from side to side.

  “Okay, so let’s just imagine you do have a partner. What kind of activities do you share? Where do you go? What is it they do that makes you happy?”

  Her questions startle me and my eyes sting. It’s as though she’s unlocked a safe inside of my head; a flood of memories come into view.

  Leila is laughing heartily and gasping as our dinner table rises in the air over the view of London.

  She’s pointing at Big Ben, the famous clock, and taking silly selfies with me outside Buckingham palace.

  I think about her opening her mouth and looking around in wonderment at Paris at night, the city lights glowing like stars.

  We’re dancing, kissing, and cuddling.

  I sniff. There’s an emotion rising in my chest as memory after memory flashes past.

  Emily hums again, then sets her pen on the notepad. “Tell me about her.”

  “Who?” I ask thickly. There’s suddenly a lump blocking my throat. Emily lifts her brows at me.

  “The woman you’re thinking about. What’s her name?”

  I pull in a deep breath. “Leila Scott.”

  Emily settles back in her chair and laces her fingers together.

  “How did you meet?”

  The question forces me to smile as the memory crosses my mind.

  “She came to my apartment to take my measurements for her boss.” I smirk. “She drank my gin and bruised me with the tape measure. Then she accused me of breaking it.”

  Emily’s brows lift even higher. “I like this woman already. Go on…”

  I spend the next hour telling Emily everything that comes into my head about Leila. Our adventures in London and Paris, the late night chats we had in secret. The time she got soaked head to toe after throwing all of Harper’s shoes into the street.

  And the times we talked about family.

  Finally, my throat clams up and I can’t speak anymore. Emily leans forward and rests her hands on her notepad. “Well, Blaze, I’m sorry but I’m not going to be able to help you find a partner.”

  I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “Why is that?”