Glitter on the Web (16 page)

No one was around to impress with any of this, which would be the only reason the Eli Blake I knew would do anything kind or magnanimous. In those quiet moments, I wondered if I was truly seeing the real Eli.

The hardest part was not being able to let Clem in on everything. That felt wrong and unnatural. Clem was my best friend, and yet I was being paid very well to lie to her, right when I needed her insight and brilliance the most.

Thankfully, I was about 90-bajillion-percent sure she knew I was full of it and why.

But she didn’t bust me on it, and I never offered. Things grew practically complacent. Oddly enough, Eli and I didn’t even fight anymore, even when he told me he wanted to accompany me to the Valentine’s Day party at FFF. I managed to shrug it off, though I knew that it came with way more complications than I personally wanted to handle.

Clem worked her magic on my boot, bedazzling it with dozens of crystals so it fit with the outfit she had created for me with a red wraparound dress befitting the romantic holiday. We sent out a press release, to let everyone know that Eli would be there at the final night at FFF’s original location before it’s moved to a much bigger space.

The press release had done its job well, lining up a bunch of hopefuls around the block just waiting to get in.

“Wow,” I murmured as the limo circled the block. “This is shaping up to be the biggest night in FFF history.”

Eli linked his hand with mine. “Thus far,” he added with a smile.

I knew he was right. I also knew he was the reason why we’d attracted this kind of crowd. I adopted a smile anyway as we exited the limo, with Eli playing the perfect gentleman for the cameras who waited to see us make our official debut.

I was blinded immediately by all the flashes that popped as we stood before the small crowd of legitimate media press. “How’s the ankle?” someone yelled.

“See for yourself,” Eli said as he lifted my skirt and showed off my sparkly boot, which I modeled appropriately.

“When are you going to play football again?” someone else asked.

I laughed. “Never! He doesn’t play fair.”

Eli responded by pulling me closer, with that look in his eyes normally reserved for the stage. “Never,” he replied happily before he reached for a chaste kiss.

I didn’t deny him. The photographers went crazy.

Eli disengaged us from the crowd and headed inside the metal doors to the second L.A. home I was about to lose. The gang had gone all out with lighting and decorations. Music thundered around us and the dance floor was filled to capacity. Lola spotted us coming in, so she segued into one of Eli’s songs, which whipped the crowd into even more of a frenzy.

I knew Eli could barely process it. “Wow,” he said so softly, I barely heard him. I pulled him to the bar, where Antoine and Clem were hustling to make drinks. That night’s special? Cupid’s Arrow, a drink made with pomegranate juice, sparkling rosé and orange liqueur.

“Make mine a virgin!” I called over the din.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Clem responded.

“The pills,” I shrugged. With how much my foot was aching, I knew I’d have to take a hydrocodone when I got back home, and I didn’t want to add alcohol on top of that. It was tricky enough just taking the narcotics by themselves.

“Fine,” she said, just handing me a glass of pom juice and clear soda. She turned to Eli. “How about you, handsome?”

He leaned across the bar with that devastating smile. “There’s nothing virgin about me, sweetheart,” he winked. “Just ask Carly.”

Clem laughed as she prepared his libation. “Still, better be careful. This is one Cupid’s arrow that packs a punch.”

He downed it in one swallow. “Can’t be any worse than the one that already pierced me,” he said before he pulled me into his arms. “Let’s dance.”

Though my ankle ached like a sonofabitch, I didn’t put up a fight. I followed him onto the dance floor, where Lola slowed it down to a sensual, familiar tune. My eyes met his. “That’s yours?”

He nodded with a smile as he held me closer. “Still working on the lyrics. You were right. They’ll make or break the song.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I said.

“God, I hope so,” he replied. “I’m not used to writer’s block.”

“Used to things always coming easy for you?” I challenged.

His unapologetic eyes met mine. “Of course.”

I chuckled. “Great doesn’t come easy. If it did, it wouldn’t be great.”

He grinned. “Such sage wisdom. Should I call you Confucius? Or Yoda?”

“That’s OGWO to you,” I corrected.

His brow lifted. “OGWO?”

“Oh Great Wise One. That’s my nickname around the office, because I was able to…,” I trailed off.

“Able to what?”

I sighed. It was too late to turn back now. “Because I could always tell what you were going to do.”

His eyebrow arched even higher. “Is that so?” I shrugged. “And what makes you think you know me so well?”

“I pay attention,” I told him. “It’s like playing chess with someone who only has a few tried and true moves. You have one winning strategy and you keep using it. Simple as that.”

“If it ain’t broke,” he shrugged with that smirk I used to hate. He spun me out, twirled me around and brought me back. “So I take it you think you’re impervious to all my tricks.”

“I know I am.”

He ran his hand along my back until it rested on my hip. “What makes you so sure?”

I shrugged. “I see through the bullshit. There’s glitter on your web, Eli, but it’s a trap all the same. I’ve seen it. I’ve always seen it. When you see it for what it is then you can’t get caught up in all it’s not.”

He swung me around. “You sound so confident. Care to make it interesting?”

“Any more interesting than it already is?” I countered.

“I guess you have a point,” he conceded with a chuckle. “But I still think I could make you fall in love with me.”

“Gee,” I said, completely in character. “And I thought I already was.”

It made him laugh. “Touché,” he said before he kissed me on the lips. He deepened the kiss, and I responded. His eyes were cloudy as he straightened. “So tell me, OGWO. What am I thinking now?”

He kept me flush against his body, which I could feel spark to life. “You’re thinking that you haven’t fucked anyone in a few months, and maybe I’ll do.” His eyes met mine. “But I won’t do. Not for one million dollars.”

I smiled and exited the dance, walking slowly towards the bar where Clem now chatted up someone I didn’t recognize.

He stood tall and lithe, like many of the men who frequented FFF. He had model good looks, with styled light brown hair, kissed blond in spots by the sun, which fell over mischievous, incandescent hazel eyes. He wore his beard tight and right, just enough to cradle his strong jaw. Clothes melded to his physique, and I could already tell that Clem was a big fan.

She brightened as she saw me approach. “Carly, I have someone I want you to meet.”

The man in question stood to his full height and turned to me with a familiar smirk. I had seen him somewhere before, though I wrestled with my memory to place him. Finally it clicked a half a second before she said, “This is Caz Bixby, my new boss.”

Caz Bixby—notorious playboy and known gigolo, one who had taken pop culture by storm when he outed one of his more notable clients and dismantled an entire election campaign airing her dirty laundry. He was rewarded with a TV show of his own, and my guess was that was where Clem had been keeping herself lately.

OGWO was once again as right as rain.

“Carly,” he crooned as he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “I’ve heard so much about you. And not just from Clementine. You get any more press and they’ll have to give you a show.”

I laughed. “God forbid.”

He grinned. “Is that an accent I detect?”

“Maybe a little,” I replied in good humor. He was fun, and he was almost painfully good looking. It wasn’t a bad combo. “Guess where and I’ll buy you a shot.”

“Ooo, a challenge,” he said as he leaned back to inspect me. “Talk dirty to me.”

I leaned forward. “Mud. Soot. Manure. Oil.”

He clapped one hand on the bar. “Say no more. You are from the great state of Tejas, am I right?”

“Give that man a silver dollar,” I nodded as I held up my finger to order a shot from Clem.

“Make it two,” he added before turning back to me. “You’ve got to join me in a Valentine’s Day toast.”

I shook my head. “Can’t. Pain meds,” I said with a pout.

“Oh, yeah.” He glanced at my foot. “How’s the bum foot?”

“Healing,” I said. “I’m starting physical therapy next week.”

He smiled wide. “If you ever need a trainer…,” he said, letting his offer trail off.

“And here I thought you were way too busy for something like that.”

He laughed. “For one of Clem’s friends, I could make an exception.” His eyes glittered as they ran over me. “Especially for a pretty one.”

“Actually,” Clem said as she leaned across the bar, delivering the shots, “Carly is taken.”

He glanced out onto the dance floor, where Eli now danced with Lisa and Daisy. “Yeah. I heard.” His eyes met mine. In an instant, I feared he could easily read all those things I would never say. I could say nothing as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a black card with a gold lettering embossed on it. He handed it to me. “Offer still stands, though. Even if you need to talk. I know instant fame can be tough.”

I nodded and took the card, placing it in my clutch.

He continued to study me with that thoughtful stare. “Care to dance?” he offered and I shook my head.

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? He’s having a good time,” he added, nodding once again to the dance floor. There Eli was sandwiched in between my two friends, who were having a sexy good time grinding against a famous, sexy crooner. “Come on,” Caz urged. “I really want to dance and my favorite girl is behind the bar.” I still hemmed and hawed, so he added, “Don’t you want to show a poor, lonely guy some of that southern hospitality?”

I looked up into those playful hazel eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.”

He pulled me towards the dance floor, where Lola had just started playing “
More Than a Mouthful
.” Caz plastered me against his hard body. “I love this song,” he grinned, and I knew in an instant he was completely incorrigible. “So tell me what it’s like to fall in love under a microscope,” he said.

“You should know,” I countered. “You’re more famous than I am.”

He laughed. “I don’t do love, sweets. I do sex and lots of it.”

The way his body moved against me left no room for argument about that.

“Then you and Clem are perfect for each other,” I teased.

He laughed again. “Clem is a hoot. And a riot in the sack.”

My eyes widened. “You slept with her?” That didn’t sound like Clem at all. Normally she never mixed business with pleasure.

“I sleep with everyone,” he grinned, unabashed. “Haven’t you heard?”

My eyes narrowed. “Oh. So you’re a liar.”

He leaned forward with that cheeky grin. “Takes one to know one.” I gasped as I realized what was happening. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to bust you. But if you want to sell this relationship, you’re going to have to go for broke, baby doll. I can smell the neglect all over you. You haven’t been properly fucked in,” he paused to lean closer still and peer into my face, “four months at least.”

I gasped at how on the nose he was. Who the fuck was this guy?

“If you ever need help in that department, I’m available for that too. No one sells a lie better than Caz Bixby. Ask anyone.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I tried to turn away, but he pulled me back.

“Don’t get all sore. Come on. Let’s dance,” he added softly as he pulled me closer.

Just then another man’s hand landed on my arm. It was Eli, and he wasn’t happy. “Is this jerk giving you a hard time, babe?”

Always in character
, I thought. Caz, unfortunately, ran with it.

“Not yet, but I’m trying,” he added with that self-satisfied smirk that rivaled Eli’s.

“She’s with me,” Eli practically growled at him.

Undaunted, Caz shot back, “Sorry, man, it was hard to tell, considering you were dancing with other girls and all.”

Eli’s glare narrowed to pinpoints. “Who are you?”

Caz reached out his hand. “Caz Bixby. Clem works for my show.”

I could see Eli quickly process the data. “I see.”

“Clem was working the bar so I asked Carly here for a dance. Figured no harm, no foul, right? I mean it’s Valentine’s Day. All the pretty girls deserve a dance on Valentine’s Day.”

“You’re so right,” Eli said as he pulled me to his side. “Carly’s dance card is full. But I’m sure you’ll find another.”

“I always do,” Caz said. His eyes returned to me. “They all come to Caz eventually,” he grinned as he bowed, then disappeared into the crowd.

“What a prick,” Eli muttered, which made me laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“I would think you guys have a lot in common,” I shrugged.

His gaze fell over me. “We have one thing in common, it would seem.”

“Please,” I dismissed. “It was just a dance.”

“Tell that to the flush in your cheek,” he hissed before he dragged me back to the dance floor.

I opened my mouth to say something, but it was lost the second his mouth covered mine. Though the music wasn’t slow, we barely swayed as he kissed me for the whole entire club to see. He kissed me slow, almost hypnotically, his lips grazing mine as his tongue ghosted behind, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands tangled in my hair as he pulled me closer, as if inhaling me like I was the most expensive, intoxicating drink on the menu.

At first I was too surprised to respond, but finally I allowed my arms to slip around his neck. I knew he wanted a spectacle, and this was part of what he was paying me to do. In the whole scheme of things, it wasn’t very much. We’d kissed plenty by now, so it was old hat by Day 33.

Maybe that was the point. He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of me, and I knew it was my duty to respond, for the camera phones around us if nothing else. I kissed him back because I was supposed to, and I acted like I wanted it just because that was part of the deal. It had to be, otherwise we’d be doing all of this for nothing.