Wilted (19 page)

Work has been my only salvation to keep what sanity I have left. I’m way ahead of schedule on most all of my projects, which means I’m running out of distractions to my loneliness.

Today, I’m so busy trying to figure out a new computer program that I don’t notice anyone standing over me.

“Hey girl, why don’t you come out to the club with me tonight?” Chelsea asks. Chelsea is one of the events coordinator for Telko. If I want to experience the LA nightlife, she’s the one to do it with. She’s got connections at every major club from LA to Malibu.

“I- I don’t know, I need to finish this project for the Ryker Foundation.” To be perfectly honest, I’m practically done with it, but she doesn’t have to know that.

“Oh come on! I’ve got VIP tickets to that new club, Fever. People will be on waiting lists for months to get in. We’ll have fun. Besides, you can’t stay cooped up in your apartment all the time. Sometimes you need to let loose, get laid.”

Get laid?
We won’t talk about my dry spell, or for the lack of interest, spending time with my battery-operated boyfriend. Every damn time I try to get off, I have to fantasize about Nik. That has to stop. The next time I come will be Nik-free, mind, body, and soul.

The only way to do that is to take the first step.

“Ya know, Chelsea, I think a night out is exactly what I need.”

“Great! Here’s your pass. I’ll meet you there at eight. Just come on up to the VIP section. I’ll be waiting there.”

I smile and thank her, glancing back down at the glossy piece of cardboard in my hand.

“Oh, and wear something hot.” She winks.

“Okay.” My laugh feels odd. I don’t even do it much anymore. I don’t really have a reason to. I’m out here in LA, away from my family. My best friend is half way around the world, trying to heal her own broken heart, and I’m running from a ghost that will never set me free.

The loud bass music can be heard all the way down the block from the club. The taxi driver couldn’t drive down the street, so he had to drop me off a short distance from the club. I’m not too happy about that, since I’m wearing the most uncomfortable heels on the planet. Painful or not, these shoes are hot and speak for themselves. A very long walk later, I bypass the line of people standing outside the club that wraps all the way around the building and then back up another side street. Shit! I’ve seen a crowd want in before, but damn!

I flip my hair over my shoulder, step off the sidewalk, and flash my glossy VIP ticket to the guy at the door. I’m immediately allowed around the roped off area and waved into the club. People shout behind me, but I ignore them. Tonight is all about having fun.

This place is off the charts spectacular! I’ve been in tons of clubs before, but nothing like this. LA certainly knows how to party, that’s for sure. My eyes are drawn up to find three huge levels full of dancing bodies. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people grinding to music in one place before. To the left is a large bar area with a lounge of some sort. As I approach the upper level behind the bar, I become nervous. Draped in purples and reds, the VIP section looks dark and mysterious.

“Kylie!” Chelsea yells while waving to get my attention. Dressed in a killer, short green dress, she’s more than gaining attention by her wardrobe choice.

“Look at you!” Nervously, I look down at the tight silver dress.
Shit!
Maybe I should have chosen the red one instead.
“I hope this is okay.” Once again, I glance back down at my dress and frown.

“Are you kidding? You look fucking hot! Come on. Let me buy you a drink.” Putting her arm around my waist, she waves at the men sitting at the bar. A couple of them are pretty hot, if I do say so myself.

“Tell you what, how about I help get them to buy us both a drink?” I return, excited to see the old Kylie come back to life.

“Deal.”

Busting out in laughter, Chelsea and I stagger out of the club.

“Taxi!” She waves, but ends up losing her balance and falling on her ass. I try to contain my laughter as I offer her my hand, but it doesn’t work out too well. My balance isn’t so hot itself, and I end up falling on top of her. So here we are, two drunk women in the middle of downtown LA on a Friday night.

Two bouncers at the door come to our aid, helping us to our feet. The tall one is very cute. He might be who I need tonight to help me erase Nik from my memory. Trying not to fall on my face, I walk seductively towards him. Chelsea makes whistling noises and catcalls from behind me. The tall bouncer smiles down at me. His slightly uneven front tooth catches my eye and I smile. I like imperfection. Imperfection is just what I need to forget perfection.

You can do this
. Silently, I coach myself as we walk towards my condo.
I’ve got to do this. I’ve got to get back on the horse again. It’s the only way. The only way around the pain is to go through it.

Tall bouncer nibbles on my neck as I dig out my keys. I don’t know his name, and I want to keep it that way.

Once my door, opens, his arms slide down my hips. Swallowing down my uneasiness, I close my eyes and push the conflicting thoughts out of my head. His mouth finds mine and we kiss.

The alcohol makes my head buzz, but not enough to forget who I really want to be here. No matter how much I try, these lips are not the ones I want on mine. These hands are not the ones I want searching my body.

“I can’t.” I push against his chest.

“Come on, babe, you know you want it. You were all over me back at the club.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave.”

“Fucking bitch! You’re nothing but a cock tease.”

“Fuck off back to the club. I’m sure you won’t have any problems finding someone else to stroke it for you.”

He mumbles something and then flips me off as he makes his way back across the parking lot. Wrapping my arms around my body, I look over in just enough time to see Evan staring in my direction.
Has he been watching us?
Seriously, I don’t get that guy!

Easing back into my place, I lock the door behind me and throw my keys down on the floor. I step out of my heels and carry them back to my room. These shoes may be hot as fuck to look at, but they pinch the hell out of my feet. Fashion always wins over pain when you’re a woman. So, in the box they go until the next time I want to torture my feet to look good.

Tonight proved a valuable lesson for me. It taught me that, somewhere deep inside, the old me still exists. Somehow, I have to get her back if I’m ever going to get past this mopey stage. The old Kylie is the only one who can get my life back into shape.

NIKOLAS

This life I’m living is killing me. Per my request, my personal assistant keeps me booked at every possible event around to draw exposure. If Kylie Reynolds thinks I am going to sit around and mope, she’s got another thing coming. So when the cameras flash, I make sure I’ve got a hot girl by my side and enough press to write any story I want to give them. In the end, you may see a smile on my face, but you’ll never know the agony and loneliness I feel inside.

This hasn’t been the best week for me. My father showed up at a charity event for abused children that I attended a few days ago. The fact that he picked this of all events to show his face, made me want to laugh.

“Hello, Son.”

I hate it when he calls me that. Son? Like he ever thought of me as any more than a pain in his side.

“What do you want?” I return hatefully.

His date drops her mouth open at my tone, but I don’t give a fuck. Surely, she knows she is only a good fuck for him.

“I wanted you to meet Victoria. She’s my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” I laugh out loud, choking on my drink. “What does my dear old mother think of this?”

“Your mother and I are divorced.”

“Really? Well, I guess I didn’t get the memo on that one.”

“Excuse me, Victoria.” He grabs my arm and jerks me away from the crowd. I guess I’d made quite the spectacle of things, but no one knows how much this man has ruined my life.

“You listen here, you little shit. I won’t stand for you to make a fool of me, especially in front of Victoria. She’s going to be your stepmother so show some respect.”

“Respect? Look, I don’t give two shits who you marry, but don’t preach to me about respect.”

“You’re the same loser of a son you’ve always been. Your mother should have gone to the clinic sooner to get rid of your ass.”

“Well, I’m not your problem anymore, Dad, so here’s a newsflash: Go fuck yourself, Victoria, and every other whore you’ve screwed.

“You’re dead to me. Do you hear me?”

“You were both dead to me long before now. So, go rot in Hell.”

Heading to the bar, I snatch up a bottle of Jack Daniels Honey and walk outside. Fuck everyone. Who needs them?