He laughs. “The feeling is entirely mutual.”
Ice daggers pierce my heart.
“This is stupid. The press is going to see right through this little act. We do not look like a couple smitten with each other. Not to mention, you have enough girlfriends around the tri-state area that can likely attest to your infidelities.”
“I think we both know you’re a good liar. I’m sure you can fool the world the same way you fooled me.”
A searing ache shoots through my chest. I harden myself up for his next blows. Each word out of his mouth lately is a shot to the heart, a lash to my flesh. It’s an irreparable wound on my skin. A scar left uncared for.
“As for the women, what is it you want me to admit to, Mackenzie? Fucking other women, is that what you want to hear?”
“If we’re going to pretend, I need to know what I’m up against. Or rather, who I’m up against. If you’ve been out fucking half the world, I think it’s only fair I know. Especially if you put that thing anywhere near me.”
“That thing?” He laughs. It’s a booming sound that wraps around us in the car. “Say it, Mackenzie. Just say it.”
“Fine. Who have you fucked? How many women?”
He grows serious, pausing to watch me, gauging my reaction. I try to keep the pain out of my eyes, but it’s no use. He can see it. I know he can. When he doesn’t answer, I grow impatient.
“Those two women? Mia?”
“All of them,” he says gruffly. “I fucked them all, Mackenzie. I sat back and watched as they rode my cock like their entire life depended on it.”
My heart does something strange at his words. For a second, I really think I’m having a heart attack. There’s tightness, the feeling of not being able to breathe. A crushing weight on my sternum. I can quite literally feel my heart taking a beating in my chest. It is one thing to be angry at the prospect of him fucking other women, but hearing the truth, the vivid details? It hurts.
“Hurt your feelings?”
I roll my eyes, fighting back tears, not wanting him to see my pain. “I’ve already told you, but I’ll tell you again. You mean absolutely nothing to me. Go ahead and fuck every woman on this planet until your dick falls off. I don’t care.”
The conversation probably wasn’t the best choice in terms of setting the mood for the rest of our day, but it happened and there’s no going back. The rest of the car ride passes in a tense silence, and I find myself imagining all the ways I could murder Baz without getting caught.
We make a few stops in downtown Hollywood for meetings. Just as he promised, there is paparazzi at every turn, snapping photos of us. It makes me wonder where all the real celebrities are. I’m not an actress or a famous singer. I’m just the girl who cried wolf. I don’t understand the internet’s fascination with me. In the past two hours of running around with him, we haven’t uttered a single word expect for pleasantries when it’s expected of us.
As much as I don’t want to, I finally cut through the silence and speak up when we drive through the hills on the outskirts of LA. The homes here are beautiful. I cast a curious glance at Baz when we stop in front of a particularly large home.
“What are we doing now?”
“I’m meeting with an agent.”
My brows tug down, my face scrunched in confusion. “What are you looking at this house for? You already have one, and you have an entire resort at your disposal.”
Baz shrugs, helping me out of the car, leading the way up the cobblestone driveway. “If I like it, it’s an investment. I don’t need any other reason.”
I roll my eyes at his thought process. That is such a rich thing to say. Yeah, not everyone has the money to drop on a multimillion-dollar home just to call it an investment. Not even to live in it.
The agent, Vanessa, is an older woman who means business. The second we step into the house, she shakes my hand, then Baz’s and jumps into bullet-point form. She goes into the home’s details, who the previous buyers were, and any new updates or renovations done to the home. It’s a four-bedroom home with four and a half bathrooms and a pool in the backyard. The décor inside is beautiful; the floors are a dark wood that contrast against the white walls and the sleek marble countertops.
I hang back during most of the tour, giving Vanessa and Baz space to talk about the home, without feeling like I’m hovering. While they finish talking, I head into the master bedroom, in awe of the view of the backyard. Up here, you can clearly see the pool and the backdrop of the bright blue sky and the hills beyond. It’s not as beautiful as Baz’s view in his home or back at the resort, but this one has its own allure. It has charm that I can see myself loving if this place was mine.
“What do you think?”
I turn at the sound of Baz’s voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me take in the view. I shrug. There’s no denying the home is beautiful. It has a lot of character.
“Does it really matter what I think of it?”
“It does.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. Sometimes, he can be so bullheaded. “It’s beautiful in a very understated way. I’m sure it’ll be a good investment.”
That seems to appease him. Jerking his chin over his shoulder, he motions toward the hallway. “C’mon. We still have a few other things that need to be done.”
Once Baz is officially finished with his business meetings, Dan drops us off at 71Above in downtown Hollywood for dinner. I’m not all that surprised when Baz gets us a private table on the terrace that overlooks the majority of downtown LA. It’s beautiful, the gleaming lights and the hills as a backdrop, while we eat. Without even asking, a glass of scotch and a bottle of pinot appear on the table.
I take large gulps of my wine, in dire need of alcohol, if I plan on getting through this entire dinner with my sanity intact.
“The UNICEF gala is in two weeks. Do you have any suggestions for the kind of dress you’d want to wear?”
I glance at him over the rim of my wine glass. “You mean I actually have a say in this?”
“Not really.” He shrugs. “Thought I’d give the illusion of an option.”
“I don’t care about that stuff anyway. The last dress that was chosen for me worked out fine,” I snap back. He nods, his eyes still on me.
I wish he’d look away already.
“It did.”
Uncomfortable silence descends between us. I avert my gaze, though I can still feel his eyes on me, burning me from the inside out. I drain the contents of my glass and almost spit it out at what he says next.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”
My chest pangs at the memory. Baz isn’t a man who normally feels the need to apologize, so the fact that he’s doing it now? That must mean he knows just how much he hurt me earlier, and for some reason, that only upsets me more. I don’t want him to know how I’m feeling, and I sure as shit don’t want him, of all people, feeling bad for me.
I suck in a shaky breath and force myself to give him a smarmy smile, lying through my teeth. “Doesn’t bother me one bit.”
“For someone who was so good at lying, you’ve gotten awfully bad at it. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Mackenzie.”