Secrets from Her Past: Scandalous, Book 2 (11 page)

Because the truth of the matter was, she may be done with modeling. A hard fact to face, but it may just be the case. And probably a lot of people would consider her a pampered diva, but those people had no clue the hell she’d lived as a teen and how she’d molded herself into being something totally opposite of what she’d been.

Corinne turned toward the back door of Dylan’s that she’d just slipped out of. As she crept toward the steps, she jumped when she saw him standing at the top, looking down and wearing only his boxer-briefs. Mercy, that body never failed to amaze her, but right now she had bigger problems.

“Were you in the middle of running away or did you already do it and felt guilty?”

Okay, she deserved that and from the hurt in his eyes, her leaving had bothered him. Apparently he was more invested than she’d thought. This whole…whatever this was between them…was getting more and more complicated.

“I already left,” she admitted. “But I need your help.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. “You sneak out of my bed and then return, not to pick up where we left off, but because you need something?”

“That storm caused some major damage last night,” she went on, trying not to let the hurt and bitterness in his voice get to her. “That big oak in my front yard lost a limb and it collapsed the roof of my porch. I couldn’t tell if any part is in the house or not.”

“God, Cori, why didn’t you say that to begin with?” He turned and headed down the hall, then yelled back, “Give me one second to throw clothes on.”

She paced the living room and wondered exactly what they were facing with this mess. Fate sure had terrible timing. But when was a good time to have a tree land on your house?

Dylan barreled back down the curved steps and she followed him out the front door.

“I’m sorry I left,” she told him as they started down his porch steps. She laid a hand on his arm to stop him. “I didn’t know what to do, honestly, and I guess I made the wrong decision.”

His eyes traveled over her face. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

Without another word, he headed for her house and she didn’t try to defend herself or her cowardly actions. What was done was done. All she could do now was try to make it up to him. Make him feel like she wasn’t just using him.

But wasn’t he the one who’d said last night that he couldn’t give any more than sex? She’d given that and suddenly he was hurt?

And men thought women were confusing.

He turned the corner by the fence and cursed. Corinne knew better than to get in his way. For one thing, he was already pissed because of her leaving, and then he’d woken up to this mess, thanks to her dragging him into it.

While he assessed the outside, Corinne went around the side of the house where there was no damage and headed inside through her back door.

Thankfully there was no other damage to the back of the house, but when she made it to the living room, she could see the tree had indeed done a number on a portion of the entryway and front window.

Assessing the damage only made her heart hurt, and before she knew it, she was trying to retrieve the pictures off the wall behind the debris—but she couldn’t get to them and the glass had been shattered anyway.

An old school picture stared back at her. An innocent girl with a sweet smile. Corinne felt sorry for the teenager in that picture. If only she’d known what a nightmare waited for her up ahead.

“It’s okay, Cori.”

She turned, saw Dylan standing in the doorway with his brows drawn.

“Okay?” she asked. “How is a tree in my parents’ living room okay?”

They both knew he wasn’t just talking about the tree. She had no doubt he’d seen her trying to get the picture off the wall, and as perceptive as he was, she knew he was aware of her thoughts.

“You know I’ve always believed everything happens for a reason,” he told her, moving on into what was once the neatly organized living room. “This will be fixed. Just thank God you weren’t home and sitting on that sofa last night.”

Corinne nodded, knowing he was right. “I’m just so tired of every single thing happening to me, to my family. When will the good come, Dylan? Because I’ve been crapped on since I was sixteen and forced to leave. Yes, I have a great career, but what has that gotten me? And all those years weren’t so hot at times either.”

Like when her nightmare tracked her down when she’d been doing a shoot in New York. That was dodged easily enough by security on set and she’d hightailed it out of that city so fast her associates had thought the devil himself was chasing her.

And they weren’t too far off the mark.

“You’re a fighter,” he told her, shrugging his shoulders. “You’ll bounce back and you’ll be stronger.”

She rested her hands on her hips and glared at him. “So now I’m a fighter? You still believe I knew about the drugs in my home and you’re calling me a fighter?”

He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed before looking back to her. “I don’t believe you did drugs, Cori.”

“That’s not what I said. I said you believe I knew about them.”

His eyes darted to the mess behind her and he shook his head. “Now isn’t the time to discuss what I do or don’t think. I need to call some friends to come and help get this cleaned up so we can assess the damage better.”

“And you thought I was a coward this morning when I snuck out?” she asked, knowing her blood pressure was rising by the second. “I think spending the night was a mistake. One I certainly won’t make again. I can’t believe I even slept with you twice, knowing what you think of me.”

He crossed the room, grabbed hold of both of her arms and forced her to look at him. “You have no idea what I think of you. If you had any clue, you’d quit poking at me to get inside my head. Do you want my help here or not?”

Honestly, no. She didn’t want his help, but this was her parents’ house and he was the only person she knew who could fix it.

“I’m going to grab some clothes from my room and take a shower,” she told him, stepping back so he’d release her arms. “Then I’m going to see my parents. Whatever you have to do, do it. I’ll also call the insurance and see what the deductible is.”

She moved around him, careful not to brush against any part of him. The man was positively infuriating and she was extremely pathetic to have slept with him, not once, but twice—all the while knowing that he believed at least a portion of the lies the media had spread over and over.

Had her self-esteem really sunk that low, or was she just so desperate to cling to that one bright spot from her old life that she was vying for any attention Dylan was willing to give?

She knew one thing for certain. Once she left this town, she could never look back. Because if she looked back and saw Dylan again, she’d have to just keep ripping off that Band-Aid over and over, and her wound would never heal.

Chapter Ten

Corinne pulled into the lot of the only doctor in town and sighed. This was literally the last office she could apply at. She’d tried the local college in the Office of Admissions, she’d spoken with the CEO of the hospital, whom she’d actually gone to school with, and she’d even gone to the adorable little boutique that offered one-of-a-kind merchandise in the hopes of finding a job.

Either no one had anything or they were all still skeptical. Good grief, if she were in LA, Miami or New York she would’ve already been welcomed in somewhere. For one thing, big cities loved to gloat over the fact they had the “it” gossip celebrity in their midst, and another, so much happened in bigger cities her ordeal would’ve already been brushed aside for some other celebrity’s woes.

Not that Corinne wished any of the hell she’d endured on anyone else, but she certainly wished her hometown would at least be a little more open minded. It wasn’t like she was getting ready to whip out her mirror and do a line of coke, for pity’s sake.

What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty? Apparently that rule was overshadowed by people’s nosy tendencies and the media’s love of stretching the truth into their warped version of a good story.

Corinne grabbed a copy of her resume, which she’d done by herself because if she’d asked Dylan for help he probably would’ve laughed in her face.

Was a part-time job too much to ask for? Just because she had made a good amount of money over the years didn’t mean that it lasted forever or that it had made its way through all her legal woes.

But her parents needed her, they needed to know she could provide the care her mother needed to get through this difficult time and she refused to let them down. They didn’t need to know what was going on with her finances, but they did need to know they were protected and secure in the facility they were in. Surely it wouldn’t be too much longer before her mother could come home. But even when she came home, she’d have to have some type of healthcare nurse for her therapy. The expenses wouldn’t end just because she came home.

Corinne hit the remote lock on her car and went into the small brick office building with her shoulders back, her chin up and smile on her face.

“Good morning, how can I—”

The receptionist froze in midsentence once she got a look at Corinne’s face.

Corinne refused to let that shock make her turn and leave. She had an obligation to her parents, no matter the hits her pride took.

“My name is Corinne St. Claire and I was wanting to drop off my resume.” She handed the twenty-something brunette her file. “I’m looking for office work—part time would be fine if you all have any openings.”

The girl, who Corinne believed had been a few years behind her in school, merely looked from the folder to Corinne. “Are you serious? Weren’t you a supermodel?”

Same conversation, different place.

“Yes, I was a model and now I’m back home to care for my parents. I’m looking for something part time.”

The girl put the resume down on the pristine desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “We aren’t hiring right now, but even if we were, we have other qualified applicants we would look at first.”

Even though she had expected no less, the rejection still hurt.

“I understand,” Corinne said, refusing to let her smile falter. “I’ll just leave that with you in case something opens up. Thank you for your time.”

“If you’d like to take this, you can.” The lady held the file back out to Corinne. “We don’t hire anyone with an arrest on their record either.”

Corinne swallowed, thankful the waiting room wasn’t busy yet this morning. She reached for the resume, knowing if she left it she’d just be fighting a losing battle. “I understand. Have a good day.”

As much as she wanted to cry, she was just too angry as she settled back into her car. She drove home cursing the circumstances, cursing herself, cursing fate for landing her here…she even cursed the car that pulled out in front of her at a red light. Sometimes letting it all out, even if there was no one to hear, made a huge difference.

And another thing that helped was baking. Corinne headed for home where she’d take her frustrations out in the kitchen like she used to before life got too crazy. She had a recipe she’d been wanting to try out and there was no time like the present. It wasn’t as if she had a job to get to.

Dylan packed up his tools and loaded them into his truck. Now it was time to go face Attila. No matter how he tried to avoid Mary, he never could quite get off the grounds without being summoned to her office where she inevitably had to brush against him, bend over to show extra cleavage or flat-out tell him he could come do some work on her house.

He was quite positive she meant somewhere in the vicinity of her bedroom and he need not bring any tools, save for the one God had blessed him with.

But Dylan was a big boy. He’d been flirted with and hit on before. And the fact she was probably ten years older didn’t bother him a bit. What bothered him was there was only one woman who’d ever managed to get under his skin and stay there. And since sleeping with Cori twice now, he truly feared when she left he’d either be even more shattered than before, or he’d beg her to stay.

Neither choice was really masculine or portrayed the strong man he’d prided himself on being.

He drove from the small rehab center, where he’d just completed the final ramp replacement, to the main office area. Might as well get this over with. He’d purposely worked late tonight in the hopes she’d go home and leave him be. Unfortunately she’d called his cell just as he was drilling the last hole for the railing on the ramp.

The overwhelming scent of floral perfume hit him in the face as soon as he turned the corner to her office. Mercy’s sake, that woman bathed in the stuff. Subtle, she was not.

He stopped in her doorway and gave a light tap to her open door. She spun from the computer and smiled, those blood-red lips stretching wide, those sinful, dark eyes nearly gobbling him up.

“I hate to keep you any longer,” she told him as she came to her feet and all but slithered toward him. “But I have another project for you.”

Dylan remained in the doorway. Even though he had a good hundred pounds and several inches in height on her, that woman made him nervous, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that every time he was in her presence, she was picturing him naked.