Scandal: A BAD BOY Romance Novel (23 page)

"I'm going to say something." She reached for the door but I stopped her. "What?"

"I appreciate it, but I got this." I felt my anger roar in me out of nowhere.

I got out of the car. With each step, every memory I had of every time I was with him replayed in my head. Every single lie he ever told me was on a constant loop in my head. All of his touches, licks, whatever, were now driving me crazy because even that was a part of his lie. I was in the lobby when one of the workers stopped me.

"Miss, you can't--" The female worker stood in front of me, blocking my way to the elevator.

"I've been here before."

"I'm aware of that. It's just that..." She didn't continue but the sad look in her face told me everything.

"How long?"

"A few weeks but they have suddenly gotten serious," she whispered with shifty eyes like it was the running gossip around the staff that she just let me in on. "Just please. Can you leave?"

I was about to but then I heard the elevator door
ding
its arrival. Out stepped Blonde Vixen. Blake was nowhere in sight. She had a runway model look all over her. She was about to walk past us but then looked at us. I guess I stuck out.

"Is there a problem, Melinda?" she asked the worker.

"No, Ms--"

"It's my fault, really. You know you take a wrong turn in New York City and you can get lost," I lied, my face burning with a mixture of embarrassment, anger, and jealousy.

"Oh, don't I know it." She let out a girly laugh. I just had to know.

"Hi, I'm Christina."

"Hi, I'm Jennifer," she responded, smiling warmly as she shook my hand. I looked in her eyes. I wanted to see if I could spot a spark. Maybe in the weeks they'd been together, he would have mentioned me to her. Her eyes were dead. I was just another woman. She then glanced down at her watch. "Crap, I'm late for my next client. It was a pleasure meeting you, Christina!"

When she left, I was left standing there with Melinda. I turned to her.

"In about three minutes, I'm going to take the elevators to Mr. Slate's place."

"I can't let you do that."

"You're not going to let me do anything. You were on a smoke break."

Melinda nodded knowingly.

The elevator brought me to the first of his floors. I walked down the hallway and knocked on the door.

"Christina?" he asked, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Let's cut to the chase." I put my hands on my hips. "Just how serious is this thing with you and Jennifer?"

"I told you--"

"I told
you
not to lie to me. I'm giving you a clean break right now. Just tell me the truth."

"I'm sure it looks serious to everyone. Perhaps even to Jennifer."

"That is a very vague description."

"What do you want from me? I told you how I felt about you. You just need to trust me on this one."

"What you didn't tell me was that I was the little secret you were keeping."

"What are you talking about, Christina?"

"That beautiful cabin in Colorado, away from the paparazzi so Ms. Madison would never have a clue."

"You're paranoid."

"Am I? You never took me out to dinner."

"What about that dinner on the rooftop?"

"Our little secret spot." My eyes narrowed more and more, I was realizing the extent of what I was saying as I was saying it. "Where no one could see us."

"Or hear us." He gave me a wicked grin while his emerald eyes sparkled, but I wasn't having it.

It was silent between us. I was trying to calm down but I've never been so angry before. I knew my face was red with anger because I felt hot all over.

"Blake, we've been talking for ten years. Stop treating me like some random woman off the street and tell me the truth," I pleaded. "I can take it." He put his head down.

"Christina, you are going to see and hear things over the next few weeks, but I need you to trust me on this. I have this under control. But I admit I am sorry for putting you through this."

"Sorry for which part? Having sex with me? You and Jennifer? What part are you apologizing for?"

"I'm sorry for hurting you. I can't tell you what's going on, I just need you to trust me."

"Just tell me who she is," I pleaded, my eyes welling up. As much as I wanted to believe Blake, the evidence was pretty damning. "Please."

Blake looked at me with his beautiful dull green eyes and took a breath. "She's my fiancee."

The words pierced me deeply. I welled up. I was so angry and infuriated. The red hot feelings were rising even higher. I just looked away and shook my head before running back to the automatic doors to leave.

"Christina!" Blake's voice called to me, and I heard him take a few steps towards me. "Give me a chance to explain."

"Fuck off, asshole," I sobbed, my vision blinded with hate and tears. It didn't matter what he had to say. The betrayal ran too deep.
Time for me to wash my hands of Blake Slate once and for all
.

"Christina!" Vanessa came running across the street to hug me. "Thank God!" She was so happy to see me. "I was so close to calling the police. I thought after you went upstairs that maybe he harmed you in some way." She pulled back from our hug and kept me at arm's length with her manicured hands. "Honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I flashed her a brave smile though I know it wavered. My eyes closed as I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down. "Everything is going to be fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. You know, I like watching those crime shows. I heard of this one story where this guy and girl were talking online, she went to his house, he killed her, and then went on the run. You don't even want to know what else went through my mind. I would have called you, but you left your cell in the car."

"Right." I nodded, barely hearing what she was saying.

Vanessa was happily chatting as she led me back to the car, her arm looped through mine at the elbows. I was trying hard to listen, but my mind was clouded with what had just happened and I had trouble hearing her. I mean, I could hear her voice but I wasn't processing any of the words she was saying. Fragments of me were still upstairs with Blake. I could feel a part of me still lying in his bed, and in his arms. How could things change between us so quickly? I was so sure of our future this morning. Now? Nothing is the same.
Stop thinking about him, Christina. You'll make a mess of yourself in Vanessa's car.

I slid into the passenger's seat and strapped on my seatbelt. Vanessa was still talking about something
,
and I just replied a 'mm-hmm' as a response, then looked out the window and watched the scenery zoom by as she drove.

"Christina!" Vanessa said sharply while we waited at the red light. "Are you even listening?"

I sighed sadly. "Honestly? No."

"You want to tell me what really happened up there now?"

"He told me the truth. They're not just business partners."

"So the magazines were right." She nodded. "Asshole."

"It goes deeper than that."

"What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the kids playing across the street, attempted to give myself a little bit of joy as a reminder that the world doesn't suck for everyone else. Maybe it'll be okay for me, too. "They're engaged."

Vanessa whipped the car into a parking spot. Cars honked at us but she didn't care. She turned off the engine and stared at me, her mouth open in a perfect, red-painted 'O'.

"What? They are
what
?"

"Engaged."

"What an asshole!" She leaned back in her seat, stunned. "Did he explain to you how he could have led you on for so long when he had a fiance on the side?"

My head shook from side to side. "No, I didn't need to hear an explanation. I just ran out of there."

Vanessa nodded, her brown eyes full of concern as she watched my expression change. I couldn't keep it in anymore. The tears streamed down my face and Vanessa hugged me to her, trying to quiet down my sobs as she stroked my hair.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart," she cooed. "We'll find you someone new to get your mind off that prick."

I gave a half-chuckle at the thought of moving on from Blake anytime soon, but it was an empty chuckle. For the first time in my life, I felt completely hollow.

A break up on its own is hard. When you add the fact that your ex's impending nuptials were being printed in all of the newspapers? It was almost unbearable. Everywhere I turned, there was a picture of Blake and her doing something to prepare for the wedding. They were spotted shopping for flowers, tasting cakes, and viewing the most prestigious venues in New York City.

I didn't
want
to read the articles, but I guess I've become some sort of a masochist. When I wasn't in the supermarket catching up on the tabloids, I was online reading the blogs and e-magazines. I would pop their names in a search engine and read all they would provide. I wouldn't go to bed until three in the morning, and when I woke up, I would read one or two more articles.

Jennifer looked absolutely giddy in all of the photos, always hanging onto Blake's arm with her blinding white smile and her sparkling blue eyes. But when I'd study Blake's pictures, he just looked positively stoic. There wasn't a single photo of him smiling--not that I'd seen many pictures of him smiling in general. It struck me as strange though that a couple in their honeymoon stage wasn't dancing for joy. My heart constricted a little bit more, and I thought of picking up the phone and responding to one of the dozens of texts he'd sent me or finally calling him back. I hadn't bothered reading any of them and deleted them before looking. I was okay with torturing myself with thoughts of Blake through tabloids, but actually having to face the reality of him was a whole different game.

Vanessa was trying her best to cheer me up but even she knew that after he said "I do," I was more than likely to delve into a depression that no one has ever seen before. Putting the fact that he played me aside, a part of me always thought that I was going to marry Blake. If I was completely honest with myself, I had to admit that I would think about our wedding every now and then. The thoughts started after we officially met in the bar, they'd creep in when he'd do something sweet for me or look at me in a certain way. For sure, I thought that we were on track to falling in love--which we were, seeing as how he told me he loved me on our last date--and then later on this year or next year we'd finally seal the deal. In my mind, we would have our wedding in a rose garden so we could exchange our vows around the scent of flowers.

That was before you found out he's a lying, selfish prick, Christina.
And now here I was years later, with nothing to show for it.

But for some reason, there was a feeling I just couldn't shake. Every time I'd see Blake's name flash on my phone, the thought of him would make my body go crazy. It would try to reason with me that we needed one more time alone together before he was hitched for good before I could never have him again. Just one more chance to feel him and have him feel us, to get him to change his mind. Then Vanessa's voice would echo in my head, telling me to forget about that no-good asshole and get rid of his number. So I did what I did best: I began to distract myself with work.

My work was my salvation. Although my clients were a pain, they were the best diversion I could ever hope for. I went out of my way to fulfill requests, no matter how ridiculous the request. Because I needed the distraction more than anything.

It seemed perfect for a while: I was distracted, clients were happy, and the company was booming with more business than ever. My bosses were so content that they threw money and a promotion at me.

Now it was my promotion party, and while I was smiling as often as I could remember, I couldn't push away the hollow feeling I had on the inside. As great as it was to finally achieve success, it felt empty without someone to celebrate it with. '
Vanessa can only do so much'
seemed to be the motto, not that it gave me the willpower to return any of Blake's phone calls. As much as I wanted to.