Traveling across my skin — a burning flame seeking to harm.
Denial. I don’t want to hear that word anymore.
I turn to look at Scott. Why? It beats the hell out of me. Maybe I expect him to step in and tell this woman to shut her mouth. The problem? I’ve dug my hole by going to Natalie in the first place; I have to crawl out of it and bury it.
Scott shakes his head. His brows shoot up into his hairline, arms crossing over his chest. His stare is as blank as I feel. Can’t blame him for being pissed. The guy cleans up one mess then has to turn around and take care of another. Only this one would fool me into believing its true if I wasn’t one of the victims.
“This isn’t about my career, and I could give a shit about yours. I don’t trust you anymore, Natalie. Your career will mend itself, if, and I do mean if there’s damage to it at all. My marriage, on the other hand, is headed for divorce court. So, you’ll have to buckle up and deal with your side of the story on your own. Now can we try to figure out a way to do damage control so I can get the hell out of here? This is the last place any of us want to be.” Sarcasm drips from my tongue.
I can feel myself rupturing. As if everything inside of me is fissuring. It won’t take but a second for all of me to crack into pieces.
“Doing damage control is my job. You can trust I’ll get it done. Mason is right about one thing Natalie. This is not about his career, making stabs at him doesn’t win you any points with me. I’m the best guy out there to make this disappear. If you want me on your side, then get your ass in gear and go the fuck home. I’m on Mason’s side with this one. I suggest you remember the NDA clause you signed with Mason. I’m assuming you are taking Eden’s side with terminating Natalie?” I shift my eyes toward Scott again, taking a few deep breaths before speaking. I trust him to clean this up.
Scott might be the best, but he’s cautious when he speaks, he’s aware I’m walking on a tight rope. He’s not an idiot either. The man thinks I’m in denial.
It’s written all over his posture, the way it tenses as his gaze skids across my flesh.
Fucking hell.
I need to get out of here.
“Yes, our relationship ends here.”
“I think that’s wise.”
“So that’s it. You are both leaving me to deal with this on my own?”
Scoff scoffs, hostility dripping off of him. I have a feeling he could take a few jabs at Natalie himself. He won’t. He’ll do his job and be done with her. “I didn’t say that. I’ll take care of it. It’ll be old news in a few days.”
“I know it’s not much, but I appreciate it. I’m sorry about this.” I shift in my chair as Scott’s eyes dart back and forth between Natalie and me. My world is already crumbling at my feet by my stupidity, and even though I don’t care what the outside world thinks of me, Scott’s opinion matters as much as Aubrey's and Chance’s do.
“I know you are, Mason. I have your back. I always will. It’ll ride out on its own like gossip always does as long as the two of you keep your mouths shut. We’ve never responded, and you will not start now, and for fuck’s sake, if anyone comes near you asking questions, don’t take your anger out by punching them, please. Nelson will threaten a lawsuit against every magazine that dares print more. Is there anything else the two of you would like to share with me or lack thereof?”
That question sinks into my blood like sewage. Not sure what hurts more, Scott, in a roundabout way asking if I slept with Natalie or the fact he thinks I’m in denial.
“No.” I grind my teeth together, breathing in and out, willing my fury at myself away. I need to calm down before I get to Eden, but I don’t have to worry about being angry when my wife bursts through the door.
Chapter Twenty
Eden
“Eden, what are you doing here? I was on my way to you. Baby, are you alright?” Mason whispers. Creases of worry denting his forehead. I’m sure he’s as full of worry as I am. For the same reasons.
I puff out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I want to tell him, I’m here because where you go, I follow, but in all honesty, I’m too angry at the woman sitting next to him. I’m also in shock over the events that had me driving here in a cloud of fear and remorse.
“Oh, let me think about that a minute, Mason. I’m here because the paparazzi never come to Hermosa Beach to track me down, but today they did. They pummeled me left and right with questions regarding an outburst I knew nothing about until I saw my pictures all over the web?”
Mason flinches, his face turning a deep shade of angry red.
“Those motherfuckers. Did they hurt you?” His throat rolls as he swallows, his attention never diverting from mine.
He’d kill the few that put their hands on me if it were as easy to find them as they do their target.
Slowly, I shake my head, swallowing over the lump stuck at the base of my throat.
That’s exactly what the trash talkers did a few hours ago. A group of them circled me like vultures when I stepped outside the store to let Sparky use the bathroom. I’d no sooner picked up his poop, and they were all over me, shoving microphones in my face, someone’s camera clunking me in the back of the head — shooting questions I couldn’t make sense of. It took me screaming for help to get them to back away enough so I could run into the store.
Because of it, I know I should resist the tempting devil on my shoulder that’s been harping away at me ever since I calmed down enough and typed my name into my browser. The little hellion has been whispering in my ear to pay Natalie a little visit. She’s going to get what’s been coming to her.
What I saw was ugly and vile and full of lies that the media, of course, twisted into their web of deception by stretching the truth as long as the California coastline. It’s all threatening and tugging to drag me down. Pain so brutally raw, I feel as if I’m shedding a lifetime of it.
I want to crawl under a rock and hide, but I won’t. They can chatter on all they want; I do not care about any of them. I told Naomi when we closed the store, I refuse to allow the toxic part of Mason’s celebrity status to force me into hiding instead of carrying on as I always have. Hiding out is going to make them prey on me further, which is not how I want his fans to see me once this blows over.
But I’m done hiding when it comes to Natalie.
“Okay, then. Eden, you need to unclench your fists and breathe. Please don’t so something you’ll regret. I understand how you want to lash out; you have every right. Calm down, say what you have to say, and then you and I can walk out of here together.” There’s more than a plea enclosed up in his demand. He wants to talk about the divorce.
That’s not happening.
I shoot him a stern look and divert my gaze at Natalie. She has the gall to look contrite. Maybe she is, but it’s a little late.
I almost laugh at how well Mason can read me when out of the corner of my eye, I see him shift in his chair. His jaw is clenching, elbows resting on the table. His fingers are twitching and shaking to touch me. I want him too. I want him to get up and sweep me out of here like the Mason I once knew would. I want him to take us away from all of this. I want my husband back, and yet I’m standing my ground when it comes to him and me.