A Totally Bound Publication
The Face of Scandal
ISBN #
978-1-78430-586-4
©Copyright Helena Maeve 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2015
Edited by Sue Meadows
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing,
Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a
heat rating
of
Totally Burning
and a
Sexometer
of
3.
Surface Tension
THE FACE OF SCANDAL
Helena Maeve
Book three in the Surface Tension serial
They say first love is forever. They don’t say that sometimes it’s against your will.
Freshly returned from a harrowing visit home, Hazel is ready to put the past behind her. Trouble is, the past may have other ideas.
Hazel’s romantic life has never been more fulfilled than since she’s met Dylan and Ward. With so many secrets and false starts between them, their unconventional threeway relationship shouldn’t work as well as it does. But if recent events have proven anything, it’s that Hazel has a habit of underestimating the boys. She’s ready to start trusting more and doomsaying less if that’s what it takes to cement their relationship into something more permanent. Only ex-boyfriend Malcolm’s surprise return throws her plans into disarray.
Torn between her too-good-to-be-true lovers and the lure of an old flame, Hazel must juggle fresh hurt and new secrets in one final balancing act.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Volvo: AB Volvo
BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke AG
Xanax: Pfizer, Inc.
Tesla: Tesla Motors, Inc.
Cosmo
: Hearst Magazines
Tustin Ranch Golf Club: Tustin Ranch Golf Club
99 Ranch Market: Tawa Supermarket Inc.
Buick: General Motors
Ben & Jerry’s: Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Holdings Inc.
Chanel: Chanel S.A.
The Simpsons
: Fox Broadcasting Company
America’s Funniest Home Videos
: Disney-ABC Domestic Television
Candy Crush: King Digital Entertainment
Jack Daniels: Brown-Forman Corporation
Tinkerbell: J.M. Barrie
The Sopranos
: Chase Films, Brad Grey Television
The Omni: Omni Hotels and Resorts
Twitter: Twitter, Inc.
Disney Princess: The Walt Disney Company
Hallmark: Hallmark Cards
Bazaar: Hearst Magazines
Formica: Formica Corporation
Steinway: Steinway & Sons
Jenga: Parker Brothers
La Vie en Rose
: Edith Piaf, Louiguy, Marguerite Monnot
Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson
Real Housewives:
Bravo Media, LLC
Mazda: Mazda Motor Corporation
NASCAR: National Association for Stock Car Racing, Inc.
Toyota: Toyota Motor Corporation
CK: Calvin Klein Inc.
Goodwill: Goodwill Industries
Orange is the New Black
: Lionsgate Television, Tilted Productions
Muzak: Mood Media
Chapter One
In the early hours of morning, before city lights gave way to white-checked blue skies, the view from the Santa Monica Mountains was as breathtaking as it was terrifying.
“There,” Hazel gasped. She clutched the passenger side door with her left hand and squeezed Dylan’s sleek cell tightly with the right.
On the other end of the line, Sadie had long stopped responding to her pleas. The past twenty minutes had been a harrowing, breathless race through deserted city streets to reach her before something terrible happened.
Tail lights dark and engine off, the Volvo made for a dull gray stain against the glittering backdrop of the valley. Hazel flung open the car door before Ward had time to bring his BMW to a complete halt.
Tires squealed, skidding through the stretch of dirt on the shoulder.
Choking on dust and panic, Hazel staggered onto firm ground. “Sadie!”
The bright glare of the BMW’s headlights streaked the scraggly brambles before fading abruptly over the blustery ledge. It wasn’t a particularly steep drop, but images of pulped bone and crushed skull flashed behind Hazel’s eyes all the same.
“I’m here,” a small voice piped up over the song of crickets in the undergrowth.
Pulse thudding in her ears, Hazel rounded the side of the Volvo. “Sadie? Oh, thank God!”
Her relief was short-lived. Sadie looked up from where she hunched in the dirt, skinny shoulders propped against the bumper, and offered a watery smile. She winced as soon as the purpling bruise on her cheek pulled the skin taut.
“Is she okay?” Dylan asked. He hung back as though unsure if it was safe to approach.
Hazel didn’t know what to tell him. She steadied herself with a hand on the hood of the car and crouched down next to Sadie. “I thought… Oh, honey. What happened?” Sadie’s late night calls usually involved invitations to outrageous new bars she’d just discovered, or detailed accounts of her latest escapade. In all the years they’d known each other, she had never called Hazel with anything short of gleeful good news.
The woman who flinched away from Hazel now was only a pale shadow of her best friend.
“Did Frank do this?” Hazel gritted out, her voice quaking.
Behind her, Dylan had finally rounded the Volvo, his shoes making soft, scuffing sounds in the dirt. “Jesus,” he gasped when he saw the goose egg blooming on Sadie’s cheek.
“Do you need an ambulance?” Ward called, lingering by the BMW. He hadn’t killed the engine. Its rumbling made for a strangely comforting bass line.
“No,” Sadie said quickly. “I’m fine, I…” She burst into tears before she could finish.
It made no difference. Hazel had seen enough to know that nothing about this was fine.
As gently as she could, she sunk down to her knees and settled against the bumper with Sadie. License plate digging into the notches of her spine, she maneuvered an arm around Sadie’s shoulders.
Her friend’s bone-racking sobs did not abate, but she tilted slightly into Hazel’s side.
Dylan crouched a few feet away, a hand over his mouth. Hazel met his eyes. The last time she had seen Sadie, she’d been excitedly planning her wedding. The first time Dylan had seen her, he’d decided he wanted her in his bed.
Neither path had led them where they expected to wind up.
Hazel stroked her thumb into Sadie’s trembling shoulder. “It’s okay, hon. It’s going to be okay.”
A cool breeze rolled up the Santa Monica Mountains, whistling contemptuously through the boughs.
* * * *
With a Xanax in her system, Sadie conked out within minutes of lying down. Her features relaxed in sleep, dyed-blonde hair forming a crown on the pillow around her head. If not for the shiner on her left cheek, she might have made a credible fairytale princess sleeping until her hero deigned to visit.
The hero wasn’t welcome at her bedside.
“There’s coffee,” Dylan said from the bedroom doorway.
They had put Sadie in his room because it was closest to the front door and Sadie didn’t look like she could make it up the metal stairs to Ward’s.
Hazel didn’t turn. “Thanks.” With her stomach tied in knots, she doubted she could swallow a thing.
She listened for the sound of Dylan’s footsteps, expecting to hear them fading down the hall. Quiet as he was, she knew he was still there when she glanced over her shoulder. “You don’t have to stay.” He had a job to get to in a matter of hours. So did Hazel.
An impromptu trip to Missouri to see her family had cost them both vacation time and, no doubt, their employers’ patience. Ward alone could get away with loitering around the loft as long as he pleased, having inherited and being in charge of his own company.
“I don’t mind,” Dylan replied. “Here…” He held out his coffee mug to Hazel. “It’s black.” The way she preferred it.
Despite the tightness in her throat, Hazel found herself reaching for the cup. Her fingers warmed instantly on contact with the porcelain. The rest of her followed with the first blissfully bitter sip.
“So…the fiancé did this.” Dylan didn’t phrase it like a question.
He must have suspected, even before Hazel had confirmed it with a clipped, “yes,” as they were loading Sadie into the backseat of the Volvo. Dylan had taken the wheel while Hazel sat and tried to soothe Sadie’s weeping.
She had succeeded, in the end, but the silence in the car was somehow worse. The feeling persisted as Hazel watched Sadie doze in white sheets.
“Do you know why?”
“Because he’s a fucking scumbag,” Hazel retorted, the surface of her cup rippling with her harsh-bitten retort.
Dylan leaned against the squat dresser, the line of his lush, full lips perfectly horizontal.
He didn’t deserve her biting his head off. He had put up with so many lies and half-truths, he’d tolerated her foibles like a saint. Hazel hung her head. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”