Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (24 page)

“This is my career…
your
career. This should have stayed in the past,” she looks towards me once more.

“God dammit, what are you talking about?” Alex grabs her arms to force her gaze. “
Why didn’t you deny being with Ben
?” Staring into her eyes, his jaw clenches in the silence.

“I saw an opportunity and I took it,” she finally mumbles, almost incoherently. “It was a chance to fill a gap in the story…”

“Just fucking tell me why you lied!” he spits, a slight shake of her in his hold.

“Because I didn’t cheat on you!”

What?

Alex recoils, his body renouncing her proximity with a sudden release of her arms, a step backwards akin to the jolt of a magnetic rejection.

Julia’s hand darts to her mouth as though the admission burned her lips.

What the hell is she saying?
My gaze ricochets between them, torn between Alex’s confused torture and Julia’s twisted battle for composure. You can visibly see the wheels turning so palpably through her desperate mind. I don’t understand it. The woman that warned me that
I
would be the one to learn a painful lesson if this all came out, is now burning in an agonizing fire of her own.

“I didn’t mean…I…” she’s grasping, frantically searching for her mask of control.

I barely recognize the woman standing before me. It’s not the Julia I’ve come to know. She’s suddenly fragile, her soft, almost caring tone foreign to my ears. And the way she’s looking at Alex, there’s suddenly something there that I’ve never seen before. And it scares me.

“You didn’t cheat on me?”

I look towards Alex at his question; spoken with such bewildered calm it sends shivers down my spine.

“Why? Why, Julia? What are you saying?” his anger builds with every word released. “You told me yourself…you told me you cheated on me!”

“Alex, they knew…they knew you’d purchased an engagement ring,” she looks down momentarily, before returning to his gaze. “They…”

“Who?” The word is thrown from his lips on a gutted breath.

“The agency. They said it wasn’t good for your career…not the right time. I was ordered to put my job, your career, ahead of…us. They gave me no choice, Alex! I
had
to end it! I knew you wouldn’t let me go…not unless I gave you reason. Not unless I-I broke your heart.”

Alex stumbles a little, his eyes bulging beneath the enormous strain of his twisted brows. I can’t pull my gaze from him, fighting to hold strength in my own legs against the dizzying pull of the air around me.

“You knew I was going to propose to you?” he asks her, the question slashing through me to reveal the pain she foretold.

“Once they told me, yes. They showed me the photographs of you at the jewelry boutique…”

“Photographs? How did they get…That wasn’t released in the media.”

“They have their own photographers, Alex. You pay them to look out for your career.”

“My career, NOT my personal life!”

“Your image is your career,” her statement is filled with pain. Her own pain.
Oh, God.
She still loves him. She never stopped loving him…

“And you? You ended it, left me…to save
your
career?”

“No! I did it for you! Alex, you have to understand…” she pleads, reaching out to him.

Turning away from her in disgust, he opens the door with enough force to shake it on its hinges, storming out into the hallway.

I bolt to follow him as Julia grabs my arm.

“Are you happy now?” she spews with a lethal cocktail of venom and pain.

Wrenching myself free from her grip, I run to catch up with him.

“Alex,” I call out him as he slams the button for the elevator.

He says nothing as I reach his side, the doors opening in the ghostly silence of the empty vestibule. Stepping inside, he bangs the panel to take us to the ground floor.

Instinctively, I reach for his arm, his flinching shake of me sending a ripple of painful terror down my core. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t,” he barks, staring straight ahead. “My best friend could have fucking died. And you,” he turns his crazed gaze towards me, “…you are no different than her...” he trails off, battling with his emotions. I know he’s lashing out at me in pain.

Closing my eyes, I try to fight my guilt. My fear. I’m trembling inside, knowing the role I’ve played in his hurt right now. Not telling him what Julia said about Ben using drugs, regardless if I thought she was lying, forcing Julia’s hand with the cheating scandal.
My God
. I’ve reopened a wound. A wound so deep, its depth of pain so clearly shared between the two of them that I feel I’m falling into its black hole. She still loves him.
Does he still love her?

The elevator doors are barely open before Alex bursts through, heading straight for the front entrance as I follow, my pace to keep up heavy and painful.

“There they are!”

“Alexander!” The camera flashes explode through the evening dusk in a blinding storm.

“Is it true that Benedict Arnold overdosed?”

“Mr. Tate! Mr. Tate! Was it an attempted suicide?”

Alex grabs my arm, forcefully ushering us through the throng of paparazzi to reach his car.

“Did you know that Mr. Arnold was an addict, Mr. Tate?”

Flinching at the question, Alex glares at me, his eyes screaming his unspoken answer,
No, I didn’t know because you didn’t fucking tell me
. He releases his hold of me with a slight shove; so slight it’s masked to those around us, yet enough to slash through my heart.

“Does it have anything to do with your bar brawl last month?” the man in nearest proximity calls out.

Alex turns, slamming his fist at the camera. The damage is minimal, though stirs a cluster of reactive comments. He doesn’t bother opening my door as he usually does, making his way around to the driver’s side.

“Alex…” I begin in the privacy of the vehicle.

“Don’t say another fucking word right now,” he orders, not looking at me. The rage in his face is unfathomable. I’ve never seen him this angry. NEVER.

He screeches the tires pulling out into the road. I’m amazed we aren’t pulled over by police, as he races through the streets. I’m almost afraid to ask where we’re going before I realize he’s heading in the direction of my flat.

After a whirlwind of Nascar-like maneuvers, amid dread-filled slow passing time, he pulls the car up at the curb. For moments, he sits calmly, and I open my mouth to speak, praying he’ll at least talk to me…

“Get the fuck out, Aby,” he orders with venomous spit, still withholding his gaze.

“What?”

I’m shocked at the anger in his eyes as he turns his head to face me. No longer baby blue, they’re a stormy sapphire, burning with a rage I couldn’t imagine he could emit. “I said, get the fuck out of my car.”

“No!” I spurt mechanically, shaking my head, trying to understand what he’s saying, scrambling to find more words of my own.

With an annoyed sigh, he abruptly removes his seatbelt to get out of the car before making his way to my door. Flinging it open, he reaches in swiftly to release my belt, aggressively pulling me out by the arm.

“Alex, you’re hurting me,” I attempt to twist from his grip to no avail as he pulls me aside to slam the door shut.

Grabbing my other arm, he pins me against the vehicle. “Hurting you?” he questions incredulously, his face nose-to-nose with mine, “I thought you liked a little alter-ego play?” Maneuvering quickly, he takes both of my wrists in his one large hand, his other free to grope my behind before sliding his way up to my neck.

How the hell can I be trembling in fear and lust in the same moment?
I’m petrified. Yet so filled with love and sexual yearning, my head is spinning.

Grabbing my chin, he firmly turns my face to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “Your fucking lying is what hurt you. Not me,” he whispers huskily. “And I’m not going to stick around to let you hurt
me
one more time.”

I gasp as he releases me and pulls away, gravity suddenly pulling my entire being as I strain to remain upright.

Adrenaline kicks into gear as he makes his way back around to the driver’s side, and I race after him. “Alex, wait! Don’t do this. We need to talk!” I scream, reaching him.

“I don’t have anything else to say. And I think you’ve had enough time to say anything and everything you should have,” he opens the car door.

I frantically continue pleading, “Alex, please, let me explain…”

Slamming it once more with the palm of his hand, he turns towards me, “What is there to explain? You promised you would never lie to me again. Remember? Right after you promised you wouldn’t leave me, but did anyway.”

“Please, it’s not that simple…I…You…We need to talk about what just happened. Please, just come inside.”

“Aby? You’re back.” We look to find Andrew walking towards us. “Is everything okay?” he asks, clearly feeling the tension in the air.

Alex sniffs a laugh, “There you go, perfect timing. Now you can go inside and explain your
hurt
away to your good little friend.” Opening the door once more, he climbs inside.

“Alex, don’t go!” I scream as he revs the engine, pulling away from the curb before driving off.

“ABY…I DON’T even know what to say.”

“Well, that makes me feel better,” I mumble, sarcastically. “Stacey Stevenson at a loss for words. It can’t get any worse than this.”

“Bitchy humor, good for you!” Stacey quips, obviously grasping at straws. “Oh, wait, me speechless and you being funny…Shit. I think this means the world has turned upside down.”

“No,” I sigh, “…just my world.”

“That’s not exactly true, my little ginger snap. I’m pretty sure Alex’s world is pretty fucked right now. Even Julia Cox-sucker’s…that…ugh…I’d call her a whore, but you and I both know nobody would ever pay for that shit.”

I laugh through a lingering ball-your-eyes-out hiccup. “Thanks for trying to make me laugh, Stace.”

“Oh, buttercup, I’d do anything for you. I’d pee on your jellyfish sting.”

This time my laugh is half-hearted, my drained emotional lament reaching the pit of its spiral to twist its way back up again. I’m exhausted. Having cried off and on all night, I was a blubbering mess when Stacey returned my call this morning. It took several attempts of explaining and re-explaining for her to decipher my crazed detailing. Eventually, my emotional eruption simmered out, leaving me to wallow in the numbness of the lingering ashes. But as with any volcano, you never know when the lava will spill over, and I brace myself, feeling it bubbling once more. “She still loves him.”

“Aby, don’t do this to yourself.”

“What if he still loves her? He was going to propose, Stacey,” newly formed tears stream down my cheeks.

“That’s in the past, Abs. It was years ago. Yes, it’s something he has to deal with - a door reopened, but, sweetie, he will close it again. You’re his present. He loves
you
,” she pauses at the chime of my doorbell. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” My heart lodges in my throat.
Oh, God
. “What if it’s Alex?”

“Okay, listen to me. Stay calm. Go answer the door. Hear him out. Give him shit for the way he treated you - cause that’s
not
cool, babe - and then hug him. Pull out your tits and flash him a smile, I think he needs it.”

“I-I don’t know what to say to him. What do I say, Stace?”

“Be, honest, and listen honestly. And, babe, try to dial down the defensive diarrhea mouth. Call me as soon as you can, okay? I love you!”

“I love you too, Stace.” Ending the call, I swipe at my tear-stained cheeks, walking to the door, taking a deep breath as I open it.

“Hey,” Andrew smiles bearing coffee, his smile full of concern. “You okay?”

Releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I take the cup with a forced smile. “I’ve been better. Thanks,” I mutter, still trying to decide if I’m relieved or disappointed to find Andrew instead of Alex.

“What can I do?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders slightly - a testament that he’s well aware there is nothing he can really do, but he’s offering anyway.

“Can you turn back time?” I ask, motioning for him to come on in, turning to make my way back to the sofa.

“I assure you, if I could, I would definitely include that on my business card.” With a wry smile, he sits down beside me. “My shoulders are free, though, if you need one.”

I grin slightly in return, remembering the last time I cried on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I have any tears left to fall. The well is a little dry at this point.”

“Well, I promise I’m not going to ask you to tell me what happened. You kinda made it pretty clear last night that…”

“It’s none of your business,” I repeat the words I suddenly remember lashing towards him, covering my mouth with my hand at the horrible memory. “I’m so sorry,” I manage.

“Don’t be. You were right. It was none of my business. And it still isn’t, but I needed to make sure you were okay.
Are
you okay?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’m a little numb, actually.”

“I’m sorry,” he flashes a smile of pity.

“Why? It’s not your fault.”