Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“…Billionaire Braden Harris is notorious for dating the hot and single in Hollywood. That’s why his latest arm candy is such a surprise. Entertainment Broadcasting has discovered exclusively that Braden Harris’s new gal-pal isn’t a Hollywood starlet at all, and she’s not the next model on the runway in Milan. She’s not used to runways at all, but rather jail cells…”
A picture of Macy and a not-so-great mug shot imposes over our kiss. It’s not a regular mug shot. I have to squint to see, but she’s clearly a juvenile in the picture. I may not have a law degree, but even I know there’s no way these vultures obtained that picture legally. Those files are supposedly sealed. Before I can bark orders at my lawyer and think to contain the situation, Macy cries out, tearing from the bed and racing to the bathroom.
Fuck.
“Trevor, I’ll call you back, but you get that shit taken off the air. Find out how they got the file on Macy when she was clearly underage and tell them by the time I’m done with them, I’ll own their fucking channel!” I slam the phone down, not waiting for him to reply, and take off after my woman.
Macy
I’m crying like a fool, acting like one too. Why did I ever think this would work with Braden? Why did I think my past wouldn’t come back and slap me in the face? Of course, I didn’t think it’d be plastered all over the damn television on prime time, but hey, that’s my luck, especially given the fact things have been going so well with Braden.
And here I am in the bathroom, the door shut, crying like I don’t have tougher skin.
I stare at myself in the mirror and angrily wipe my tears away. I hate myself right now, hate myself because I’ve fallen in love with a man that I shouldn’t want.
My eyes are red rimmed, my cheeks wet. I get pissed all over again, but I’m also humiliated. Although Braden knows about me, about the type of girl I am, how I lived, seeing my face plastered on the screen embarrasses me like no other. I don’t want him to see me like that. I want him to see me as the woman I’ve become with him, the person he sees me as now.
And what type of woman is that?
Shut the hell up.
I’m having this insane argument with myself in my head. Perfect.
“What a fine fucking mess,” I whisper to my reflection and hear the TV shut off. I straighten, my hands curled around the edge of the marble sink. I look over my shoulder, my heart racing.
The door is closed, and I don’t know if Braden will come in, if he’ll try to talk to me. This probably has ruined everything between us, as if the past few days meant nothing.
How can he see me as something more than a criminal? That’s why he “hired” me, isn’t it? That’s how we initially met.
Right now, he’s probably regretting everything and thinking how I’m nothing more than a nightmare to him.
Why was I ever stupid enough to think a man of his social standing would want anything more from a girl like me? Why would I think this could ever be more than what it is?
It’s an arrangement. Nothing more, right?
I feel like crying all over again, but I force myself to suck it up. I’m stronger than this. I don’t need a man in my life, but then again, I’ve never been in love. I’ve given Braden myself, my virginity.
And despite all the things that have just happened, I know I would do it all over again.
And then there is a knock on the bathroom door, and I know I can’t hide in here forever. But confronting Braden after he saw me on TV like that is terrifying.
I swallow, my throat feeling thick, rough.
“Macy?” He calls out my name and although his voice is muffled, I can hear the emotion in this tone, his gentleness.
I squeeze my eyes shut and tell myself not to cry again. The last thing I want is for Braden to see me a sobbing mess.
I turn and look at my reflection once more, wiping away the remnants of my tears, giving myself an internal pep talk to man the hell up. So what if he doesn’t want me anymore? So what if I’m back to being that girl with the sticky fingers in the city alleys? That’s who I am, who I’ve always been. Surely I don’t need a man to make me feel whole?
But this isn’t just any man. This is Braden. I love him.
I feel my heart break a little over the thought of never seeing him again. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want to live with these feelings if he’s not in my life.