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London Soul

Page 9

by Nana Malone


  “Well, that’ll teach you to snatch a woman right from under your brother’s nose.”

  I ground my teeth. “She wasn’t yours, Xan.”

  “I know. I couldn’t have her anyway. And let’s face it. I’m even more of a mess than you are. If it’s any consolation, I would have fucked this up even more spectacularly than you have.”

  My heart squeezed. “I love her, Xander.”

  “Then fucking fix it. If you managed to find a way to be truly happy, don’t let that shit go for anything.”

  Abbie

  I whacked my alarm as it cheerily buzzed. Peeling the duvet back, I checked the time. Six thirty. My brain scrambled for any viable reason why I couldn’t possibly go on the shoot this morning. But when I found none, I forced myself into a sitting position.

  I shouldn’t have gone out last night. My brain automatically went to those hushed moments in that darkened room. The moments before Alexi had started acting like a crazy person. I shivered at the memory of how he’d driven me to the edge of crazy. Even as the memory sank in, my core softened and contracted at the thought of his lips teasing me. But the following imagery of what had happened afterward was like taking an ice water bath.

  He’d deposited me back in VIP, whispered something to Max about taking me out through the back when I was ready to go. Then he’d practically run out of the place with Nick in tow.

  There was a faint knock at my door.

  “Yeah. Come in.”

  “You up? It's your mother.”

  I frowned. “Unfortunately.” I was not in the mood to deal with family hysterics so early in the morning.

  Faith clomped in with her duvet wrapped around her and black bunny slippers on her feet. She plopped on my bed dramatically as she handed me the phone.

  “Mom, is everything okay? Dad, the girls?”

  My mother's voice was crisp and cold. “No, everything is not all right. We sent you to school. Decided to support your foolish attempts, and this is how you repay us?”

  An icy fist slowly wrapped frozen fingers around my gut. “Mom, you'll have to start from the beginning. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  My mother scoffed. “I find that hard to believe. What daughter of mine gets herself in a tabloid magazine and doesn’t think I'll ever notice? I mean, you can’t get into a medical journal like your sister. You have to go and let it be something tawdry like OK magazine.”

  OK, magazine? Now I knew my mother was really out of it. “Mom, have you been having mimosas again? You have to be famous to get into that magazine. And I am distinctly not famous.”

  Faith patted my knee and then grabbed my laptop from the desk. I quickly typed a search for my name and OK magazine.

  “Mom, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Stop lying, Abbie. And how could you do this to Easton? He loves you. Sometimes men just need to figure out what they want, and you go and do something like this to him. Something so public. Not to mention what you’re doing to that poor girl.”

  Faith and I watched in horror as page after page of results appeared on the laptop screen. There, in full color, was a photo of me kissing Lex that first night on the rooftop. Then there was the one of us leaving Brixton Gold, and finally one of us coming out of the sex room last night, looking flustered and well sated. The headline read Britain’s Royal Billionaire Bachelor and His American Dalliance Break Fiancée’s Heart.

  Shitballs.

  Faith stared at me.

  My mother's voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a very long tunnel. “Abena Nartey, are you listening to me?”

  I could barely get the strangled breath out. “Y-yes, Mom.”

  “If you think this is how we behave, then I’m sorely disappointed. You're to come home immediately.”

  Surprise and annoyance edged to the surface. “You want me to what?”

  “You heard me. Come home. This little trip down rebellion lane has lasted long enough. You'll come home, and we'll sort this out as a family.”

  “But there's nothing to sort out. I met a guy. We've sort of been seeing each other.” I slid a look at Faith and noted the tight set of her lips. “It's not that big of a deal.” Except our relationship was all over OK fucking magazine.

  The room spun. Why were we in OK? Then I read the headline again. Royal? Fiancée? I sucked in a deep breath and tried to focus on what my mother was saying.

  “Mom, I'm not coming home. Despite what you see, I’m actually thriving here. I'm getting to explore all kinds of things.” In the bedroom… “My course is going well.” Okay, so small fibs didn’t count. “I'm working hard like you've taught me to do all my life. Is this really about the fact that I'm in a magazine, or is this about the fact that you no longer control me?”

  My mother's voice went up an octave. “Control? You think this is about control? We'll see how you feel about control when we stop paying for school.”

  Fuck. Sweat popped on my brow. “You would do that?”

  My mother sniffed. “We would be happy to pay for you to go to a school closer to home, or for you to go to law school, or medical school, but this… This frivolous thing has thrown you off track.”

  Tears burned my eyes. “So you're saying that you and Dad, that would be it, you would cut me off just for doing what I think is best for me?”

  “It's your choice, Abbie. But we're not going to support you making poor decisions. Leaving Easton. Running off to London. Dating this piece of cheating scum. I don’t care if he is royalty. You’re nothing more than someone to be used and discarded to him. At least Easton loved you.”

  Fury made my voice tight. “Easton hit me, Mother. He hit me. That’s not love. If you actually cared about me and were less concerned with social standing, you’d see that he would have killed me eventually.”

  I swallowed hard, not daring to look at Faith.

  “If you do not come home immediately, you are drawing the line in the sand.”

  Hot tears brimmed in my eyes. “I guess I have, then, because I am certainly not coming home.”

  My mother hung up on me.

  Too shocked to move, I sat starring at my wall of photos from home. So that was it. I was completely on my own.

  Faith put a hand on my knee. “You and I are going to discuss your secrecy later. Much later. Right now, you need a hug and some reinforcements.”

  Frozen with shock, I let her drag me into a hug. Well, I’d wanted my freedom. Now I had it.

  An hour later, I was getting the third degree.

  “Shit, Abbie, when were you going to tell us?” Sophie had wasted no time. She’d barged into the front door five minutes after I had gotten off the phone.

  I tucked my knees under me as I looked up at Sophie and Faith, both pacing the length of our living room. “I don't know. Never maybe.”

  Faith stamped her foot. “If there was ever a reason to not keep something secret him abusing you was it. And I know you were going through stuff with Easton, but you should have told us. We never would have let you stay with him.”

  Sophie nodded in agreement. “I mean, we could have helped you.”

  “I was ashamed and afraid. I believed him when he said no one else would want me. When he said it was my fault that he lost his temper. I was beyond anybody’s help. Even yours.” I shook my head. “But you know what? We’ll deal with my psycho ex later. I can’t deal with the dark and scary right now. Can we talk about how the fuck Alexi is a Royal? He’s just a guy.”

  Sophie looked down. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It never even occurred to me to mention it. His mother is from some deposed line of the monarchy of Nomea. You would never know, though. He keeps things pretty private and sheltered.”

  I stared at her. “That would have been some good information to have.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t know myself until recently. Max dropped that tidbit on me the night of Lex’s party. I didn’t think it was important. How was I supposed to know
you’d end up secretly dating him?” Annoyance slipped into Sophie’s voice.

  “I'm sorry, guys, but honestly, I can’t take it today. You can yell tomorrow. Today I have to figure out what the fuck I'm going to do. And while we’re on the what-the-fuck questions—he’s fucking engaged?”

  Sophie winced. “I had heard that was a possibility. More like a rumor. Lex and Gemma have been together forever. Most people just assumed that if they weren’t already engaged, that it would only be a matter of time.”

  My stomach rolled. “But he told me they were just friends.”

  Sophie and Faith glanced at each other. Sophie’s voice was soft when she finally spoke. “No, honey. They are absolutely together. Max confirmed it. I—I’m so sorry.”

  I was going to be sick. All over Faith’s pretty hardwood floors. No. You are a survivor. You didn’t survive Easton just to have this asshole kill you. Focus.

  I shook my head. “Okay. I’ll deal with it later. Right now, priority number one is what the fuck I’m going to do about school. I'm fine for the rest of the term, but if I'm to stay here, I need to come up with cash quickly.”

  “Obviously, you need a job,” Faith squeaked, still miffed about not being included in the Lex secret.

  “No shit, Faith. What do you think I've been trying to secure for the past month?”

  Faith winced. “Okay, sorry. I'm sort of in uber-bitch drive at the moment. Lex, that asshole Easton. I’m going to kill him when I see him, by the way.” I shook my head. “I wish you had told us.”

  I sighed. “I'm sorry for all of it. I thought I was doing the best thing. I’m a thousand times sorry for not telling you. But I honestly just needed time.”

  Sophie sashayed over and plopped down on the settee next to me. “Okay. Now that we've established that you're sorry, that you won’t keep secrets from your besties anymore, and that we’ll obviously get the juicy details from you later, let's work on the main issue.”

  I sighed. “You know anyone who wants to give me a job?”

  Sophie shrugged. “I know lots of artists, darling. One of them has to be looking for a muse.”

  My heart sank. “I meant like a real paying job, Soph.”

  She nodded. “You'd be surprised. I was the muse for a fabulous painter last year, and I earned two thousand quid in three weeks.”

  As intriguing as that sounded, I had a feeling that being a muse might require something that made me all kinds of uncomfortable. Like naked uncomfortable. Besides, I needed to depend on myself. Counting on others, no matter how well intentioned, was likely a bad call. It had already gotten me in trouble with school and with my family. “It's okay. I’ll figure it out.”

  Faith ran a hand through her hair. “Well I might be able to get you a job at the PR firm. You'll likely just need a letter of recommendation.”

  I wanted to hug Faith for thinking of me, but I needed to be available to do my class assignments during most daylight hours, so a day job wasn’t going to work out well.

  “Hello, sorry to harp, but can we get back to the larger problem of Lex and how you ended up in OK magazine?” Sophie interjected. “What are you going to do about him?”

  My stomach rolled. Oh yeah him. The liar. Why the hell was I surprised that he'd hidden some key details about himself? Just like Easton.

  “He lied about who he was. About who he was going to marry. About everything. I have no idea who he is. All I know is that the sex is good.” Okay, not entirely true. I also knew that when I was with him, I felt truly alive. But that didn’t matter now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Abbie

  My phone rang, and I popped my head out of the covers to glare at it. Sophie brought it over for me.

  “Doesn’t say a name, only a number.”

  “What's the number?” I grumbled.

  Sophie rattled off the digits, and I shook my head. “Nope, that's Alexi.”

  Sophie pressed ignore, then turned it off. “There that's better. Safer if you don't have to hear it ring.”

  Faith brought some tea over and set it down on the coffee table. “I don’t know, guys. I mean, he's a first-class wanker, but perhaps she should hear him out.”

  Sophie scowled. “Even if she does eventually decide to take him back, she can’t just talk to him right away. That looks desperate. She's going to have to make him beg for it. It's the only way he'll learn.”

  “Faith, I don’t get it. You had such a hard line with Easton.”

  “That's because I know how much you gave up with Easton. Don’t get me wrong. I liked the guy enough when you were together, and you seemed happy with him at first, but as time wore on, you were more like a shell of yourself. And now that I know what you were going through, I shudder to think of what you were really going through that I didn’t see.” She sighed. “But with Lex, you've been bubbly these last few weeks. Happy, despite all the crazy and the stress. Granted, I thought it was your hot professor, but all I'm saying is you've been happy. When you're happy, I can be lenient.”

  “Yeah, well, I'm not happy anymore, am I?” I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose, then dropped the tissue in the wastebasket the girls had left by the couch for me. “I mean, I thought I was falling for this guy.” I sat up, dragging the duvet around me so no part of my skin was exposed to the chilly air. “I’ve never felt as... combustive as I have with Alexi.”

  “Ah, passion. There’s no real substitute for it, is there?” muttered Sophie. Her expression was contemplative. “I have to ask though, what do you really know about him besides how great he is in bed–which I want to hear all about by the way. He’s been friends with Max for years, but he’s really private. Beyond surface stuff, I haven’t ever gotten much.”

  Faith frowned. “Sophie has a point. I hate to say it. I mean he's hot, and I'm sure you guys have had your, erm, moments, but in that deep connection way, have you actually talked about anything real? Did he tell you anything about himself?”

  My head throbbed. I racked my brain, thinking back to our earlier conversations. We’d talked about his parents, his brother, about his dreams. But basic stuff, I didn’t know—like that he had a fiancée. Or where he worked exactly. Or what he did. Or what he spent his spare time doing. He'd mentioned parental angst, but again, had never gone into detail. Instead, he'd listened to me, prodding for more information about me. Shit. Sophie was right. I was in love with the way he made me feel. Not with the guy.

  And while I was in no mood for company, Faith and Sophie insisted. Granted, when Sophie had tried to pop out to the corner shop, she’d been met by a hoard of paparazzi on the front steps. They both declared that I needed to stay somewhere calm until the storm blew over.

  In just over an hour they had me safely ensconced in Max's house, far away from the ringing home line and the buzzing of the door. Sophie had gone on a full reconnaissance mission, scouting down the street to make sure Lex wasn’t lurking, waiting to try to talk to me. I had tried to tell them he wouldn't bother, but neither one listened as they shuffled me through the back door and into Sophie's car.

  Now as I sat huddled between Faith and Jasper, I watched the parade of model-boys flit around the house in various stages of undress. Now I understood why Sophie was never in our flat. Hell, I never wanted to leave this magical land of hot men.

  All the guys, Jasper especially, were surprisingly sweet. Oh, he still flirted, but he toned down his more outrageous tendencies. Though his flirting made me feel somewhat normal.

  Max was the consummate host. Told me to think of the house as mine. Whatever I needed, all I had to do was ask. I felt like I'd been enveloped into a large rag-tag family. There were two new models renting rooms as well. Even though they didn’t know me, they went out of their way to make me comfortable.

  When Jasper headed out that night, he told me to take his room as he wouldn’t be back till the morning.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t. The couch is fine.”

  He laughed. “Look, the sheets are clea
n, and it makes me smile thinking of you in my bed.”

  I just rolled my eyes. Shameless. “No really.”

  “I insist. You can sleep on the couch if you want, but honestly, the bed is more comfortable.”

  “Okay, I'll think about it.”

  Sophie took Jasper’s spot, flanking me. “Honestly, Abbie, don’t beat yourself up over this. How were you supposed to know all this?”

  “And he did like you. Does, like you,” Faith amended quickly.

  “I'm not so sure about that. I just want to forget I ever met him. You see what they're saying in the papers. That I broke up him and Gemma. That I'm the other woman. He did that to me. Humiliated me in public.”

  Sophie nodded sympathetically. Faith nodded too, but her expression held a note of reservation.

  “I still need to figure out what I’m going to do about a job. I've been searching the campus job listings, and still nothing. I'm going to need to take it off campus. Problem is, no part-time job will really do the trick.”

  Angel trotted down the stairs. With his deeply tanned skin, sandy brown hair, bright green eyes, and killer angular face, not to mention ripped, shirtless body, I had no problem seeing why he was a model. There would probably be millions of women willing to pay to have him walk around their houses in various stages of undress.

  When he spoke, his voice was heavily accented. He sounded Middle Eastern, maybe Israeli. “You're a photographer, right?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

  “Well, I need some of my headshots redone, as I'm looking for a new agency. Would you think about doing them?”

  I smiled. Taking some pictures might help keep my mind occupied. “Yeah, sure. When do you need them by?”

  “End of next week would be great. I could pay you two hundred pounds. I'd planned to shell out a lot more for them, so now it's a win-win.”

  I perked up. “Wait, you'd be paying me?”

  He grinned, and I was so temporarily blinded by his sheer beauty that I could only stare, slack-jawed.

 

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