Made by Us: Giselle and Liam's Story (The Made Series Book 3) (12 page)

“Where are we going?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

I nod my head and he grabs my hand to lead me through the swarmed sidewalk. Instead of going into the parking deck, he takes me inside the Loew’s hotel and up to the 16
th
floor. My  patience is thin. Ethan allows me to exit the elevator first. He grabs my right hand and opens the door to the outside terrace. The floor is empty and all the tables are unoccupied, except the one in the far back left corner that’s set for two. Two candles are lit and a white linen cloth covers the round surface. A bottle of champagne sits in a metal container between the candles. Ethan pulls out my chair and motions for me to sit. He kisses the top of my head before moving to his seat across from me. The view from this floor is incredible, I can see the top of palm trees, and the city lights from the multiple high rise buildings in the distance.

“What’s this?”

“A private party for two. Would you like a glass of champagne?”

“Sure. I’m having an amazing time.”

“You’re an amazing woman.”

I can’t stop smiling. This day has been impeccable in every way. We both raise our glasses before taking the first sip. A waiter brings silver covered dishes and sets them in front of us.

“Dinner is served,” he says, and bows before walking away.

“So what’s on the menu tonight?” I ask.

“I know you love salmon, I took the liberty of putting together an entrée for us. Under the cover you will find grilled salmon, baked potato, and steamed broccoli. Enjoy.”

The aromas are mouthwatering. Everything tastes wonderful. Ethan smiles at me from across the table as we eat. I’m not able to clear my plate the way  Ethan does his. Once I can’t eat anymore, I use the napkin to wipe my mouth before throwing it over the plate.

“Are you ready for desert?”

“Desert? Right now?”

“Desert is the best dish. I’ll get it to go.”

“That would probably be best, I can’t eat anything else right now. Dinner was absolutely fabulous. Thanks again.”

I finish my champagne while Ethan gives the waiter instructions for desert and asks for the check. Today was perfect and Ethan’s romantic dinner was the best part. I can’t wait until we get back to his house and enjoy the rest of the evening under the sheets. 

Chapter Twenty

I can’t believe I overslept again, it’s 10 AM. Ethan’s not here, but he left a note on his pillow.                                                

Baby,                                                                                                                                                            I have a shoot at 6, didn’t want to wake you. Delia’s coming over--play nice. I’ll be home around noon.                                                 

Ethan

I need to get up and workout. The treadmill is calling my name. I throw on a white t-shirt, black cotton shorts and gray sneakers. I walk into the huge room loaded with state of the art equipment located on the bottom floor. The room’s cool temp has given me goose bumps. I pass an elliptical machine and weight bench as I head to the back where a large area is covered with mats. I put my earbuds in, turn on Pandora and begin to stretch.  My warm up only takes five minutes, then I walk over to the treadmill. The metal bars are cool as I step on. My reflection is seen from every angle due to the surrounding wall mirrors. I turn up the volume before taking off on the belt. The whole time pretending I’m back at home running down a familiar path.  

An hour later, I’m completely covered in sweat. My cell rings.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Damn you go to LA and forget all about us?”

“Marcia that’s not true. I was going to call you and Carmen today.”

“Hey, girl. Are you having fun?” That’s Carmen.

“I am, but this three-hour time difference is kicking my butt.”

As we chat I tell them about my bizarre dream.

“What the fuck, Giselle? You’ve become a nympho in just a few days.”

“Shut up, Marcia,” orders Carmen. “How did the dream make you feel?”

“I’m not sure. Confused, mortified and turned on. I don’t like girls and have never wanted to be with one. But there’s something about Delia. I just can’t explain it.”

“We’re human and are made to appreciate beautiful people,” Marcia states.

“She’s right, it’s nothing to worry about,” reassures Carmen.

The girls make me feel a little better, but I’m still not comfortable with my dream. Maybe a shower will put this craziness behind me.

When I enter the living room, Ethan and Delia are leaning into each other and whispering while staring at a laptop. Ethan’s frowning. Delia has her hand covering her mouth. They don’t notice me.

“What are you looking at?”

Ethan closes his eyes. A sigh escapes from Delia as she closes the laptop. They slowly look at me.

“Thought you were in the shower,” Ethan says with a tight jaw.

What’s his problem?
I place my hands on my hips. “It’s obvious I’m finished.”

“Darling, Ethan’s upset and needs some time alone.”

She begins to walk towards me. I put my hand up making it clear not to come any closer.

“If Ethan’s upset, I’ll be the one to comfort him,” I inform her.

“You silly girl. I was trying to spare your feelings,” Delia smirks. “Go ahead, comfort him. This should be interesting.”

She sits in the leather arm chair in the far right corner of the room.

I look at Ethan and ask, “What’s she talking about?”

“Come see for yourself,” he says while opening the laptop. Our picture is on a gossip site and what’s written is cruel.

Super Sexy Ethan Thomas was caught slumming with a mystery girl yesterday at The Griddle Café. We assume they’re a couple due to the public affection--lots of kissing and holding hands. Mystery girl sported unkept hair and was wear baggy overalls, a striking contrast to Thomas’ polo shirt and plaid shorts.

Fans are surely puzzled by this unusual behavior. 
        
Where’s Delia? Those are two sexy people we want to see together.

Why would someone say those things about me? I look over at Delia, who has a smug look on her face. This motivates me not to cry. I can’t force myself to look at Ethan.

“It doesn’t matter what they say,” I whisper. He slams his fist on the table and I jump.

“These people can make or break my career. If my fans aren’t happy with my choices...” his voice trails off.

“You can’t be serious! Are you really telling me what they think is more important than me?”

He turns his back to me. “Don’t make me answer that.”

“You already did.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. It used to be us against the world, but this Ethan I don’t know. I leave the room and find myself outside.

I sit on the curb and cry. I don’t stop until I see a blurry Delia standing in front of me. Just great.

“It’s time to end your pity party. You either let what they say destroy you or you prove them wrong. The choice is yours.”

I stare at her. I want to hate her, but secretly I wish I was her.

Chapter Twenty-One

I had one too many drinks last night. My body is sore and I feel sluggish. To make matters worse, I wake up in the bed with Delia.
Oh no, what did I do?
I can’t remember anything. She’s even put together while she sleeps. It’s sickening. I quietly get up and see that I only have on bra and panties, which aren’t mine.

“Great,” I say and place my hands on my head.

“You’re the only person to wake up in my bed and not look pleased,” declares Delia.

I turn around and I’m greeted by perky breast. Does she not believe in covering up? She notices what has my attention.

She chuckles, “You like? They’re 100% real. Want to feel?”

“No,” I answer louder than expected.

She sleepily smiles. “You’re so cute and funny. But last night you were a wild woman. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t remember? Giselle, you were the life of the party. After your breakdown, we came back here and I invited a few friends over. Shots were taken and drinks were poured and you drank like a pro. We hit up some clubs. You wore my black mini dress and you looked hot.”

“Thanks,” I sarcastically say.

“Don’t be an ass. You dress frumpy and you’re afraid of your inner sexiness. Anyway. What’s important is that you enjoyed yourself.”

“Frumpy? I don’t dress frumpy. My style is cool and unique. It’s what makes me happy.”

“Oh, Giselle,” Delia rolls her eyes.

She grabs her phone to show me pictures from last night. I look trashy and there’s red lipstick on my lips, like a common whore. The dress is skin tight, I’m shocked that I could breathe, and it’s so short that if I bent over my panties would show and this sheer material barely covers anything.

In several pictures, it’s obvious I’m drunk. My eyes are glassy and I have the drunken smile that shows all of my teeth. The last photo, embarrasses me. Delia and I are kissing and not in a friendly way. She has her hands on my butt and mine are holding her face. I glance at Delia. She’s smiling.

“That’s my favorite memory from last night.” She uses her thumb to gently rub my lips. “Your lips are perfect so soft and kissable.”

What’s happening?
I’m losing my mind and discretion. I want her to kiss me and she knows.

“Don’t worry, Giselle, I just want to make out with you.”

Kissing her, here and now, is even better than what I dreamt. Her lips are smooth and sweet. At first our kiss is gentle, then it becomes fierce. I’m sucking on her tongue following our French kiss.  She has pulled my legs and now they are wrapped around her waist. My hands are stroking her flawless breasts. Abruptly our make out session comes to an end, by Delia pulling back.
I wonder if I did something wrong.
She placed a light kiss on my lips.

“We better stop. I was only planning on kissing you.”

“We don’t have to stop.”

She shakes her head with a smile on her beautiful face. “Yes, we do. You think you want this, but in reality you’re upset with Ethan. Now, go take a shower.”

While I’m getting up, she lays back down and states, “Ethan called all night.”

“What did you tell him?”

“To fuck off, of course.”

We start laughing. Delia reveals that tonight is a major club opening and Ethan is going to be there. She offers to give me a complete makeover and her glam team can have us ready in a few hours. I agree and she squeals in delight.

I have people working on my hair, nails, waxing and plucking my eyebrows. I feel like a rag doll. Delia’s busy bossing everyone around and gives me a thumbs up.

After what feels like a tortuous eternity, I’m standing in front of a brass full length mirror and I don’t know who this girl is looking back at me. Everything’s different! My hair is now blonde with loose waves and my eyebrows are shaped perfectly. The makeup is way more than what I would normally wear, but I do like my nude lip. My long sleeve white dress, fits like a glove, but the plunging neckline shows too much cleavage. The gold bangles that jingle along my wrist match the ankle straps of my white heels. I tuck my mirror clutch under my arm. Delia walks in and stands beside me. She looks glamorous in her sequined side-drop dress. Only she could pull something like that off. The bottom of the dress reminds me of a bloomed flower. The petal tips were used to make the asymmetrical hem line, which goes shorter in most areas except where the dress drops lower in the back. Her shoes look like something from Marcia’s boutique,
Guilty Pleasure
. The five-inch stiletto heel resemble glass. Beyond the peep toe opening, pink shimmery ribbon tied into poufy knots go up her foot, giving it that extra uniqueness. She sweetly smiles at our reflections.