“Someone who called her brother’s best friend for help, and then when he turned up, promptly betrayed him.”
“We all make mistakes when we’re younger,” she says softly.
I hang my head. “Only mine resulted in Cade’s future imploding.”
“You couldn’t know that.”
“Doesn’t change what happened,” I point out.
“And yet, he agreed to help your brother by agreeing to take care of you.”
“Probably because it gave him the perfect opportunity to make my life miserable.”
“Probably.” She twists her lips. “Or… He wants to use this opportunity to get close to you.”
I scoff. “You’re mistaken. He’s made it clear I’m his employee, and nothing more." I break eye contact and look away. I’m not telling her the entire truth, but well, I can hardly tell her that we already fucked. Or that I was a virgin, and he was my first. I can’t even admit it to myself. And I’m afraid I’ll lose it if I try to tell her that he said I broke his heart, and my betrayal killed any affection he may have held for me.
"Oh." Her lips turn down. "I’m so sorry about that."
"What? Why?" I half-laugh. "It’s nothing new. I know I’m not all that spectacular to look at, and he can have his pick of the supermodels and actresses he hangs out with."
"That’s not true. You’re beautiful, and you’re more genuine than all of them. Cade’s a fool if he can’t see that," she says softly.
"Thanks." I swallow down the ball of emotion in my throat. I never managed to make friends at university, preferring to keep my head buried in my books. In retrospect, it was probably because I felt so self-conscious about my weight. The few acquaintances I did have faded away once we graduated.
I’m so thankful to have Solene as a friend, but she’s so far away. If I hadn’t met Zara and started working at her agency, I’d have never met Isla, and then Amelie, and found a support network. Discovering Zara’s Cade’s sister came as a shock at the V & A Ball. Not once, had Cade mentioned her, in all the times he’d hung out with Knight at our home. He never spoke about Zara, and there were a lot of opportunities for him to do so. I mean, Cade spent most of his holidays at my parent’s home.
There were long summer days when I tagged after him and Knight as they went about playing whatever games boys like to play as teenagers. Cade didn’t speak much about his family then, either.
So why did he feel the need to confide in me before he left on tour? It’s a puzzle I haven’t been able to get out of my head. Not while he was away. And not since he returned. After our last conversation, I was unable to sleep and ended up calling Solene, who was just waking up in the U.S. Thank god for the time difference.
If I had to pace my apartment with only my thoughts for company, I’d completely fall apart.
"Abby, are you listening?" Solene’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
"What?" I glance at her image on the screen. My chin wobbles, my heart hurts, and pressure builds up behind my eyes. I’m not going to cry. I’m not.
"You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for," she says softly.
I blink away my tears. "Everyone keeps telling me that. But I don’t feel very strong at the moment."
"That’s because you’re letting your emotions get the better of you… Which is fine. I mean, emotions are good. And they’re your strength."
"Huh?" I blink rapidly. "I thought being emotional was my weakness."
"Unless you make it your strength."
"I… I’m not sure what you mean."
Her gaze softens. "You wear your emotions on your sleeve."
I wince. "Again, something people have often pointed out to me."
"And that means you say what’s on your mind—"
"Much to my detriment."
"Unless you own it."
I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say."
"Why don’t you tell Cade how you really feel about him?"
"I did, and he laughed in my face." I wince at the recollection.
"So, you’re going to give up, and allow him to take you for granted?"
I look away, then focus my gaze on her. "What do you suggest I do?"
"Stand up to him. Make sure he notices you—really notices you—and then tell him how you feel."
"After he’s slept around with half the female population of the countries he’s been to?" I scoff.
"Is that what he said? That he slept with them?"
I drag my fingers through my hair. "I don’t know. He didn’t deny it."
"The media has a way of blowing things out of proportion. You should know; you’re a PR professional."
I lower my hand. "I’ve never been on this side of the coverage. Now, I know how my clients feel when their personal life is splashed all over the tabloids."
"Have you tried to talk to him? Like, really talk to him?"
I glance away, then back at her. "Every time I try to have a conversation, it ends with him behaving like an asshole, and that should piss me off…"
"But it doesn’t?"
I shake my head. "Clearly, I need therapy, if I find his being mean to me a turn-on."
"Don’t mock your kink," she chides.
I redden. “Don’t forget, I didn’t hear from him for eight months. Eight whole months. That’s no joke."
"But he’s back now."
I tilt my head.
"And he wants you to work for him and pretend to be married to him.”
"I asked him to be exclusive," I burst out.
She blinks. "What did he say to that?"
"He didn’t seem happy about it."
"But he didn’t say no?"
"He didn’t say yes either," I point out.
"Hmm." She rises from her bed and places the phone on a chair as she pulls yoga pants and a hoodie over her sleep shirt and shorts. Then, she walks through the hallway and into an adjoining kitchen.
"Where are you, anyway?"
"Vegas. I’m here for a performance."
"Hold on, if you’re in Vegas, you’re eight hours behind me, and it’s late here, so how come you were waking up when I called?"
"Went to sleep late last night after rehearsals."
"You’re performing tonight, aren’t you?"
"At the MGM Grand." She fills up the coffee maker with water and switches it on.
"You nervous?"
"Why should I be? It’s only 20,000 people in the audience, after all."
I stare, then burst out laughing. "Jesus, how do you handle the pressure?"
"By puking before I go on stage."
"Oh, my god, seriously?"
"Unfortunately, yes. But once I puke, I’m fine. And then I’m on stage and I forget everything—all my troubles, my love life, or lack thereof, everything." She glances into the distance. "There’s only me and the audience. It’s heaven."