by Jenna Jacob
“What if this is all too much?”
“It’s not.” Sofia shook her head. “That cow needs to see you’re more than Ross’s girlfriend.”
“She needs to see that you’re his…lady,” Mia whispered.
Tears stung my eyes. “I’m not. I’m just a well-paid fake. But thank you. Thank you both so much for doing all this for me.”
“You don’t have to thank us. Seeing Ross’s reaction is all the thanks I need.” Sofia hugged me and whispered in my ear, “I know it’s probably going to be hard, but try to have fun.”
I nodded, sucked in a deep breath, and bravely walked toward the lobby.
Grinning like a couple of schoolgirls, Sofia and Mia pulled out their phones, then hid behind a thick marble pillar.
Ross was standing near the front door, engrossed in something on his phone.
Heart fluttering, I studied the sharp lines of his profile…his sculpted jaw, the slope of his masculine nose, and even took in the curve of his ears. Drowning in every manly inch of him, I skimmed my eyes over his fitted black blazer, sky-blue button-down oxford, and the denim jeans hugging his muscular thighs.
My heart was racing, my mouth was watering, and tiny tingles erupted between my legs.
The tap of my heels echoing against the marble floor finally captured his attention.
Ross raised his head and swung it my way.
I held my breath.
As astonishment crawled across his face, I forced myself to keep walking, even though the intensity of his dark gaze was stripping me bare and making me feel strangely naked and exposed. Wings of doubt fluttered through me, but I continued making my way toward him.
A shadow of a smile tugged the corners of his mouth. The sight of his undeniable approval sent warmth spreading through me, chasing all my reservations away.
Though still a few feet from him, I physically felt him suck in a ragged breath. Breaking free of his trance, Ross pocketed his phone and ate up the distance between us.
“Jesus,” he whispered.
He dragged a stare over the lose curls, artfully swept up high on my head and spilling down my back. Studying the contours of my face, he paused, taking in my red, glossy lips. As if lost in another trance, he lifted a hand and dragged the tip of his finger from one end of my collarbone to the other, leaving a trail of sparks along my skin.
A barely perceptible growl rumbled in the back of his throat before he blinked and licked his lips. “You look… Jesus.”
“Like a princess?” I prompted. Ross nodded. “I feel like one, too.”
“It’s not right,” he growled, shaking his head.
Dread pummeled me from every direction.
“What? The dress? The shoes? I-I can go back upstairs and—”
“No,” he barked. “You look…like a fucking angel.”
“I don’t understand. What isn’t right?”
“That I have to take such a stunning…beauty to Sylvia’s and subject you to her caustic, cutting cruelty.”
I sent him a comforting smile. “Like I said on the bus, I’m not made of glass.”
“No, you’re more like fine crystal.”
My heart was still melting when he glanced toward the street, seemingly embarrassed for bestowing the compliment.
When a long black limo stopped at the curb, he exhaled a heavy sigh. “Are you sure you really want to be a part of this shit show?”
I smirked. “Isn’t that why everyone comes to New York…to see a show?”
“Don’t know any who’d want to pay money for the one you’re about to see.”
“You can still change your mind.”
Ross shook his head. “I’ve put this off long enough.”
“Is that our ride?” I asked, glancing at the limo.
“Yeah.” He bitterly nodded before extending his elbow. “Shall we?”
“You’re welcome,” Mia and Sofia called out with a giggle.
Ross sent the pair a sidelong glance and shook his head.
I tucked my arm through his and together we stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The moment he locked eyes on Bernard—a mid-fifties, broad-shouldered man wearing a black suit, a glossy-billed hat, and wide, glowing smile—all the tension bled from Ross’s body.
“It is…wonderful to finally…see you again, Mr. Walker.” Bernard’s voice quivered as tears swelled in his green eyes.
“What’s with the Mr. Walker shit, Bernie?” Ross asked in a voice thick with matching emotion. Spreading his arms wide, he enveloped the older man in a sturdy hug and clapped him on the back. “It’s fucking good to see you again. I’ve missed the hell out of you, dear friend.”
The force of undeniable love swirling and circling them brought tears to my eyes. Ross clung to the man for several long, heartwarming minutes. Clearly, Bernie was an integral part of his life, or had been. I didn’t know how long they’d been apart, but the fact that Ross had carved this special man out of his life, for whatever reason, broke my heart.
When they finally parted, Bernie sniffed, wiped his eyes, then smiled at me. “And who is this stunning beauty?”
“Ah, um…”
“I’m Harmony…Ross’s friend.” I smiled and extended my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Instead of shaking it, Bernie drew my fingers to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to my skin. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Harmony.”
Bernie opened the back door of the limo and Ross helped me into the vehicle. Sliding onto the soft leather seat, I listened as they continued to talk.
“I can’t believe you’re still here,” Ross murmured. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s like a million Christmas mornings seeing you again, but why the hell are you putting up with her after all these years?”
“I made a promise to your father.”
“You mean the sperm donor.”
“If it weren’t for that donor, my life would be empty.” Bernie lowered his voice. “It does my heart wonders to see you with that pretty girl.”
“It’s not what you—”
“Hush. Don’t steal an old man’s hope.”
Ross chuffed, then slid in beside me.
As we pulled from the curb, his muscles tensed. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention anything about my reunion with Bernie to Sylvia.”
“Never.”
“Thank you. Fraternizing with the help is strictly frowned upon, and I don’t want her to fire him.”
“Bernie means a lot to you.”
I was stating the obvious, but I hoped it might entice Ross to open up and tell me more about the man behind the wheel.
“He’s always been more of a father to me than my own flesh and blood.”
“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
“I saw him four and a half years ago, but I wasn’t able to talk to him.”
“Because of your mother?”
Ross stared out the window for long seconds before shaking his head. “No, because I was at the intake center before heading to rehab and couldn’t leave the building. I’d been in my room, waiting on paperwork and staring out the window, wondering how I was going to un-clusterfuck my life when I saw Sylvia’s Maybach pull to the curb.
“Bernie got out and opened the door for her. My mother stared at the building in revulsion, then tossed her nose in the air and stomped toward the entrance. As he closed the door, he paused as if sensing me watching him. Then Bernie turned and we locked eyes. He sent me a worried smile, then gave me a thumbs-up and a sharp nod. Maybe it was the meds they’d given me for withdrawal, but I could hear him silently telling me, Be strong and you’ll kick this, son. And I did, because of his faith in me.”
My heart ached and soared for him at once. Though thrilled that Ross had given me far more honesty than I’d anticipated, the tone of despair in his voice wrecked me.
“I need to warn you,” he announced, dragging his gaze back from the window. “It’s probably going to get very ugly. And
Sylvia is going to malign you every way she can.”
“I’ll be fine, Ross. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“No, you don’t understand. Sylvia probably won’t lower herself to even speak to you. She won’t outright insult you to your face, she’ll do it by humiliating me.”
“For Pete’s sake, why are you throwing yourself under the bus for me?”
“Because none of this is about you. It’s about me. I’m done…done letting her run over me,” he snarled. “Done having her show up at my hotel, trying to send me on some cross-continental guilt trip. I pray to everything holy that tonight will be the last time I ever have to lay eyes on that hateful cunt again.”
Chapter Nine
Ross
When I’d finished my rant, Harmony’s face was lined in shock and horror.
Fuck. Sylvia is going to chew her up and spit her out.
Why the hell had I invited Harmony to this ugly bloodletting?
Because you’re a coward…a lazy, selfish coward.
Christ, we were still blocks from my mother’s building, and I was already letting the bitch crawl inside my head.
“If that’s how you feel, then I truly hope this is the last time, if only to restore your peace of mind.” Harmony lifted her chin.
The ball-churning sprite was already in my corner, cheering me on, and I hadn’t even put the gloves on yet. I hadn’t done a fucking thing to deserve her loyalty, yet she was handing it over to me without question. Why? It was time to get some answers.
“Why are you here?”
She blinked at me and scowled. “Because you invited me.”
“No, I mean why did you agree to let Quinn hire you? Why did you willingly sign on for the shit show of reporters, living on a cramped bus, hopping from town to town so fast you wake up wondering if you’re in Cleveland or Albuquerque?”
“Because you needed help.”
“Christ, Harmony…you don’t even know me,” I barked.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re being persecuted by the press.”
“One of us in the band is always being maligned by the press, but I guess you already know that.”
“I didn’t, until today.”
“What do you mean?”
She lowered her lashes. The gesture was so submissive I wanted to wrap my fist in her luscious curls and drag her to her knees.
“Until Quinn contacted me, I’d…I’d never heard of Licks of Leather.”
What?
The massive dent to my ego paled in comparison to the shock clanging through me. How was it possible she’d never heard of us? Our songs aired on thousands of radio stations all over the world. It didn’t make any sense. Harmony lifted her lashes and I could see shame and embarrassment swimming in her blue pools.
Oh, no you don’t, princess. I’m not letting you beat yourself up just because you don’t know who I am.
“Then you’re really going to enjoy the show tomorrow night,” I assured, hoping to erase her insecurities. “But you’re going to be watching from backstage, where you’ll be safe. I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you earlier.”
“It wasn’t your fault that guy was…eager.”
“He was a… How is your elbow and hand?” Harmony showed me her wounds, but they’d been airbrushed or something and were all but obscure. “What happened to your scratches?”
“Mia put some kind of powder on it after we went shopping.”
“You and Mia went shopping?”
“With Sofia, yeah. Since I didn’t have anything appropriate to wear to dinner tonight, they took me to some boutiques.” She grinned. “I’ve never had so much fun in my life. They rented a limo and we drank champagne and laughed and talked.”
Talked? About more than just fans and paparazzi, I feared.
My stomach pitched in a sickening slide. Logically, I knew Burk and Quinn would honor their vows and never share my unforgivable secrets. But that didn’t lessen my worries. Thankfully, Quinn’s attorney, Reed Landes had managed to seal up all incriminating documentation, down to the tiniest scrap of paper, before the press got wind of the devastating disaster.
“Do I want to know what you three wild women discussed?”
Harmony’s cheeks turned bright red. “Definitely not. Those two aren’t the least bit shy about anything.”
“Anything? Like what?”
Her blush grew an even deeper shade of crimson. “Never mind.”
“You three weren’t talking about…sex, were you?”
Harmony darted a gaze around the limo and inhaled a deep breath. Her breasts lifted enticingly beneath the cutout V of the sexy black dress that hugged her every curve. Ever since I saw her strolling across the lobby, my fingers had been burning to peel the fabric off her body, and my palm itched to fire up her fine, lush ass cheeks.
“What do you think we’ll be having for dinner?”
I wanted to laugh at her blatant change of subject but let it go. Even if Harmony was actually brave enough to talk about sex, I didn’t need the frustrating distraction. I had to keep my wits about me so I could effectively duel with the devil.
“I’m sure the cook she’s hired has whipped up something decadently delicious for you. I’ll be eating what Sylvia always loads onto my plate…a big, fat helping of crow.”
“What does she want you to apologize for?”
“Living.” Sadly, that was the truth.
I stared out the window as we made our way to the Upper West Side. Tamping down my mounting angst, I took in the familiar picturesque neighborhoods, the tree-lined streets, and stately brownstones.
When the limo came to a stop in front of the palatial building I once called home, a shiver rolled up my spine. Out of habit, I gripped the door handle, then froze.
During my rebellious teen years, I always bolted from the car before Bernie could open my door. I wasn’t revolting against him but my mother. It didn’t matter how often Sylvia—who was always watching from her ivory tower—scolded, grounded, or berated me for usurping the hired help. I did it to save Bernie the demeaning task of catering to a little rich prick half his age. I never wanted him to view me as an entitled brat, again.
Releasing the handle, I waited until Bernie opened the door. As I stepped out, we exchanged the same clandestine wink we had when I was young and Sylvia was around. Then I held out my hand and helped Harmony from the vehicle.
“Good luck, you two,” Bernie mumbled.
It was a given that the bitch was watching, waiting at the window to see if I would show. But to make Bernie’s life easier, I dipped my head—pretending to say something to Harmony—and kept my eyes locked on the man. “Thanks. We’ll either see you in a couple hours or a couple of minutes.”
Though his mouth remained neutral, Bernie’s eyes twinkled as a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall.”
“She’d only swat you dead,” I murmured.
Tucking my arm around Harmony’s waist, I started toward the same set of steps I’d raced up and down since I’d been able to walk. The wisp of nostalgia blowing through me was mystifying. Perhaps because I knew this was the last time I would set foot on these hallowed stairs, my cold, isolated, dysfunctional childhood was simply breezing through to say goodbye.
After checking in with the doorman, Harmony and I strolled across the Italian marble floor and into the waiting elevator.
As the doors closed, she peered up at me. “I probably should have asked earlier, but…am I still pretending to be your girlfriend?”
“No. Sylvia will be taking center stage tonight, like she always does.”
As the carriage ascended, she chuckled. “Is this where you grew up?”
“Yes. In fact, over there”—I pointed to the corner—“is where I whipped my dick out and pissed all over the fine Moroccan carpet when I was fourteen.”
Harmony burst out laughing. It was like a balm soothing the prickly edges that had been
cutting through me since Sylvia had shown up at the hotel.
“Why on earth did you do that?”
“Because I had to pee, and Sylvia told me to hold it until we arrived at one of her stuck-up socialite benefits. Since I’d never disrespect Bernie and piss in any of the cars, I just unzipped, whipped it out, and let it flow.”
“You were a handful as a kid, weren’t you?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I was just screaming for love and attention.”
Harmony blinked at me in stunned surprise.
I smirked. “You didn’t think a big ape like me was capable of enlightenment, did you?”
“Everyone’s capable. It’s hanging on to it and letting it light your path that’s the hard part.”
I was just about to ask how a young, sheltered girl had gained so much wisdom when the elevator dinged and the door slid open.
We stepped into the foyer, and I swallowed down the ball of dread clogging my throat. As if sensing my disquiet, Harmony slid her hand in mine and gave it a little squeeze.
I knew then why I’d invited her. Though she frazzled my nerves with her dazzling beauty, shook the ground beneath my feet with her kind and gentle spirit, she also centered me in ways I couldn’t explain or comprehend.
When the door to Sylvia’s penthouse swung open, I expected to see Thompson, or whatever butler she now employed. Instead, the viper herself rushed toward me…gauzy beige designer pantsuit flowing like smoke around her.
“Oh, Rosner…you came. I’m so happy you’re here, darling,” she cried, wrapping her arms around me in a cold, brittle hug.
“Sylvia,” I murmured without hugging her back.
When she pulled away, she ignored Harmony and quirked a brow. “What is your little friend’s name?”
“Does it matter?”
Harmony tensed. I squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her that I wasn’t negating her existence but, in fact, trying to protect her. She’d soon learn that I’d walk through the bowels of hell to shield her from Sylvia’s caustic, passive-aggressive demeanor.
“Since you’ll toss her to the curb like all the others once she’s served her purpose, I suppose not.” She shrugged.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Harmony blink and bristle.