Chapter Twenty-Four
I’ve missed my best friend.
Since Aaron waltzed back into my life for a second time, I’ve barely seen her. Now sitting opposite her, I’m realizing just how much.
It doesn’t matter how intensely you love or how consuming your relationship is. A girl still needs her best friend.
Liv tackle-hugs me, squeezing me until I can’t breathe. “Have you dropped off the face of the f*cking Earth into honeymoon-stage bliss or what?”
“If only,” I laugh, sitting opposite her in the wine bar.
She slides a glass of wine across our table and wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, Aaron told me about all that bullshit. Do I need to claw her eyes out? I just got my nails done, and these babies are lethal.” She holds her hand up for me to see, and yes, she is indeed correct.
They’re long, and the square shape is definitely threatening. At least they would be if they were coming at your face.
“I’m not saying you need to, but I am saying I wouldn’t stop you if the opportunity arises and you feel so inclined.” I smirk.
“Sweet. Now I have permission. Aaron just looked at me funny.”
“Of course he did. He doesn’t understand this friendship. Shit, I don’t understand it, but we’re good.”
She knocks my shin under the table. “I would do it harder, but since it’s your birthday, I’m being nice.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“So how is it being a quarter of a century old? You’re now closer to thirty than twenty. You old bitch.”
I laugh loudly. “This will be you in a few weeks, so watch who you’re calling an old bitch.”
“I’ll always be able to call you an old bitch, and I’ll do it even when we’re old and grey and in Seattle’s finest f*cking nursing home.”
I don’t doubt it, except the part about the nursing home. Liv is far too fiery to let someone wipe her ass, and I tell her as much.
She shrugs. “My new agent is putting me forward for a big campaign over here in a week or so. Maybe if I make it big, I’ll hire someone to do it for me.”
I shake my head with a small smile that’s threatening to become a grin. Jesus. “Really, Liv. You don’t need an ass-wiper. You need a boyfriend.”
“Oh yes. Says the woman who didn’t so much as look at a guy romantically until Mr. Walking Orgasm exploded into her life.”
“Things change. I changed. I kind of like love now.” I’d like it a lot more if it weren’t filled with everything we have to deal with.
“I know. I’m messing with you, babe.” Liv looks at me honestly, her eyes bright. “Love suits you. And Aaron is a good guy. He’ll make you happy.”
“He will. He does.” I blink harshly. “It’s my birthday and I’m not having you make me cry. That’s no fair. So what are we doing today?”
“We’re going shopping of course.” She nods toward my half-full glass and lifts hers. “Down in one go, honey. We have a store or ten to visit, and it’s on your man.”
I smile and lift the glass. Of course it’s on Aaron. There’ll be open tabs and closed stores just for us.
“Come on. Chop chop! We’re on a time schedule, you know.”
I grab my purse and follow her out. Of course we are.
***
I collapse back onto the sofa in Liv’s apartment and swing my feet onto her coffee table. Our bags are dumped in the middle of her kitchen, in full view, and I want to cringe a little. There are hundreds of dollars of clothes and shoes in those bags, nearly all of them mine.
Because my best friend is as much of an enabler as my boyfriend, apparently.
Liv looks between me and the bags and grins. “Right. Where’s that dress you bought early?”
My lips twist. “Which one?” I ask dryly.
“Ha! That blue one. And those black heels. Where are they?”
“In the bags.”
“Hilarious. I’ll find them. Then you’re putting them on.”
I frown, straightening from my lazy, slouched position. “Why?”
“You didn’t think I was taking you shopping and not dragging you out, did you? It’s a Thursday. Come on, babe. We have permission from the big man, so let’s go.”
“Did you just call my boyfriend ‘the big man’?”
“Repeating what he said.” She throws the dress at me and dangles the heels from her fingers.
We’re having words about that. In no place, ever, should Aaron refer to himself as ‘the big man.’ Joking or serious. Just, no.
I stand with a sigh and take the dress into Liv’s room. Honestly, all I want to do is curl up in front of the TV, cry a little over some goofy movie, and gorge myself on popcorn and chips and candy. It doesn’t escape my attention that the last two times I’ve gone for a night out have been forced on me.
Perils of having a party-animal best friend.
“Has that guy at work noticed you yet?” I ask when she rolls her jeans down her legs.
“Jackson? No.” She pulls her top over her head and strolls to her closet. Yes, she’s also completely comfortable in her own skin and isn’t afraid to show her bare ass in a v-string. “And if I undo another button on my shirt, I’ll be arrested for indecent exposure. Trust me—orange isn’t my color.”
I straighten the blue dress against my thighs and smile as she whips a black dress out. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Eh.” She shrugs, slinking into her own outfit. “Guys are guys. Eventually he’ll notice me, but I’ll be locked up with some hot-as-hell guy who knows how to play my body like a f*cking violin.”
And she has a clear idea of what she wants from life.
Why is she still single?
I allow her to tease my hair into a head of curls but put a stop at the makeup. That I will do myself, thank you.
After an excruciatingly long hour, both of us are ready and raring to go. We grab our purses and head down the elevator to the bottom floor, but when we get there, it’s not a cab waiting.
It’s a f*cking chauffeured car, and the door is being held open.
“What’s going on?” I turn to my best friend, and the traitorous bitch has secrecy written all across that smug-ass grin on her face.
“In.” She takes my hand and pulls me outside, practically shoving me into the car.
The door slams behind her, and I repeat my question. She grins wider.
This whole day has been a setup. I’d bet anything Aaron is behind it. What the hell is he up to now? What in the fricking Hell is even going on?
We drive until we arrive at the Southfall, and my heart skips several beats. I’m almost sure it’ll stop beating, and I allow Liv to lead me into the hotel and to the reception area.
A guy I don’t know is sitting behind the counter, and he takes one look at us and tells us to head to the elevator. I follow her blindly, and what the f*ck is happening? What is this? Why am I in a hotel? This isn’t a night out. This isn’t a girls’ night. I don’t understand. What the hell?
“Don’t hate me,” Liv says insincerely, stopping outside the ballroom. Mischief is rife in her eyes, sparkling dangerously, and I run my tongue along my top lip.
She pushes open the door, and I freeze. Everyone. Standing. In front of me.
Monique. Aunt Leigh. Aaron’s parents. Some of the girls. More. Everyone. People—everywhere. Lining the walls, leaning against the bar, sitting at a few tables.
And Aaron.
In the middle of it all is Aaron. Clad in a tailored suit that hugs him like a second skin, he turns slowly, his eyes finding mine, and smiles. It’s a slow smile, one that screams, “Surprise!” and one that warms every part of me.
“Happy birthday,” Liv says softly. “And surprise.”
I cover my mouth with my hand when she lets go, and she steps to the side. Aaron walks across the ballroom and stops in front of me, his hand taking mine from my face.
“You did this?” I whisper, looking up at him.
He nods. “For you.”
I swallow hard, and with my fingers linked with his, I look around the room, past the people. To the red-white-and-blue-striped flags dangling over the bar. To the table cloths in the same color. To the spread of food along one wall, all French, all my favorite things. To the endless wine bottles next to it, again all French. To the cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower—something that shouldn’t even be f*cking possible.
“What?” I whisper. “How? Why?”
Aaron rests his hand against my cheek and turns my face to his. “Because you are the single most important person in my life, and you deserve nothing less than the absolute best. You didn’t mention anything about your birthday and I wanted to give you a day you won’t forget. And the French theme…” He smiles. “It was a no-brainer, sweetheart.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, not giving a crap about everyone watching us, and his arms circle my waist in the same tender way.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for being the most infuriating, demanding, requiring, relentless man I’ve ever met in my life.”
He smiles against my skin. “I’m reminding you, Day. It’s a double-edged sword. The French theme is to remind you that, no matter what, no matter what is thrown our way, no matter what we have to fight through, our love will always bring us back to each other.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I know this. I know that, despite all the bullshit life can throw at us, all the lies and the manipulation and the pressure, I know we’ll always find a way back to each other.
When you have the kind of love that flows through your veins as easily as your blood does, there’s no escaping it.
I release him and smile. “Always. No reminding needed. I require you to love me always, Mr. Stone. Okay?”
He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me sweetly. “I can deal with that requirement, Miss Black. In fact, I believe it’s a given. Now you have guests to attend to, and I’m being incredibly rude by keeping you all to myself.”
“You are.” I smack his chest lightly. “I’ll have a glass of wine while I greet my aunt.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking with the movement. “Demanding, are we?”
“You betcha.”
He winks and kisses me once more before heading toward the bar. I turn to my aunt, who is standing by my side, and another wave of emotion fills me at the raw sight in her eyes.
Before I can move, Aunt Leigh envelopes me in her arms and holds me close to her. She holds me tighter than she ever has before, and I return her embrace.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for following your heart.”
“Thank you for telling me to,” I reply, kissing her cheek.
Our time is cut short when Monique intrudes, snatching me from my aunt and hugging me just as tight. “I’ve missed your snappy, no-bullshit ways. Don’t tell me you’ve gone f*cking soft on me?”
I laugh and shrug her off me. “Don’t be so stupid, Mon. If you ever needed your ass chewed out, you just have to call me.”
She winks. “You got a good one, Dayton. Don’t f*ck this up.”
“When have you ever known me to f*ck anything up?” I raise my eyebrows and take the glass Aaron slides in front of my face. “He’s well and truly stuck with me now.”
“Rather him than me,” she retorts with a laugh, shooting me a second wink.
I smile as Aaron whisks me away, introducing me to some of the people who work for him. My head spins with all the new names, and before I know it, I’m on my third glass of wine and Dottie is giggling alongside me at the bar.
“And then I told him, ‘Haz, you do realize all of those models have more silicone in their body than f*cking Silicone Valley?’ and he told me Silicone Valley isn’t really made of silicone, and I looked like a complete and utter moron in front of everyone he works with.”
I snort into my hand. “And he still wants to marry you?”
Dottie holds up her hand. “Oh yes. For some goddamn reason, the man is crazy in love with me, and when he has abs tighter than a nun’s vagina, who am I to argue with him?”
“Who has nun’s-vagina abs?” Liv slinks in beside me, a full glass in her hand.
“Her fiancée,” I explain. “Put your tongue back in its mouth, thank you. No ab licking tonight.”
She sighs. “Damn. Here I thought I had a chance at getting some.”
“Well,” Dottie drawls, “you could always go for Daniel. He’s hot and single and a rising prospect in the company. And then there’s Paul. He’s one of Aaron’s senior staff despite barely touching thirty. And then there’s Garrett. He’s the head of advertising in Seattle, hot as f*cking hell, and from what I hear, he knows his way around a bedroom and pair of handcuffs.”
I blink at her. “How do you even know that?”
Dottie looks at me blankly. “I’m Aaron’s assistant. It’s my job to know.”
“Even their sex preferences?”
“I’m an eavesdropper. So sue me.”
“Wait. Which one is Garrett?” Liv taps her shoulder, and Dottie points at a guy by my cake with a bright red tie.
Liv coughs, smoothing her dress, and stands up straight. “Excuse me, ladies. I suddenly want some cake.”
My lips quirk to one side as I watch her cross the room, swinging her hips. I shake my head. She’s hot, sexy, and irresistible. Poor Garrett. He stands no chance against her.
Dottie has the same expression on her face when my phone pings in my purse. I dig inside it, grab my phone, and unlock it before opening the message.
You were warned.
A link follows the text, and everything stops. The music and the chatter silence and my heart stops and my lungs freeze and there’s nothing. Nothing but the link staring back at me, bright blue against the white background of my phone.
“Dayton? What’s wrong?”
I ignore Dottie and click on the link. F*ck no. Please no. No. No no no no no.
The link opens to Naomi’s official website, and the first thing I see is my name and Aaron’s and a photo of me.
And then there’s the exact story she sent to The Insider and probably every press Aaron sent a precautionary lawsuit to.
But we never considered this.
We never thought of her own site, with its thousands of followers. We never dreamed she may put it up here.
I feel the color drain from my face, and I can barely imagine my expression as I turn to Dottie. I know I must look horrified. Petrified. Completely and utterly defeated.
She knows that Aaron knows.
That’s the only explanation.
And now my identity is out.
Who I am is public.
My whole life is strewn across her personal website for the world to see.
And I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now.