Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77005 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“She figured it out from the ponies. It’s hard to hide the ponies you wanted Aidan to pose with because it was a ‘cuteness factor of ten,’” I say, quoting her exact words.
The glare she shoots me should’ve killed me on the spot. I’m not sure why I’m still alive.
“We are where we are now,” she says, seething. “And so are they. A bunch of those vultures are camped out in town, clogging the roads and making a nuisance of themselves. Thankfully, the police department is being helpful and has stationed a black and white outside the property’s main entrance.”
“Is that really necessary?” Aidan finally jumps in, taking the words out of my mouth. He’s been really chill about the circus this has turned into. I’m sure he’s had plenty of practice. I guess that’s something to be happy about.
“If you would’ve kept your grabby hands to yourself,” Jess says, lurking behind Jules while staring at her fresh manicure. She looks up and skewers Aidan with a glare, “this wouldn’t be an issue now, would it?”
“Jessica?” Cruella says, and scoffs.
“Well… it’s true.”
I’m starting to think Jess is no longer intimidated by Jules. Something is definitely going on there.
I glance over at Aidan who’s now watching Jess. His brows are smashed together in deep concentration, but his mouth isn’t sure whether it wants to turn up or down. “Nothing happened. Tweetie and I are friends––”
“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Jess mumbles, biting her lips to stop from laughing.
“You did not just call her a pet name!” Jules hisses.
Aidan looks lost for a minute.
“He’s joking,” I say in his defense. “No, really, who’s going to take him seriously?”
Aidan side-eyes me. “Thanks?”
“I’m trying to save us,” I hiss.
“We need to come up with a plan.” Jules resumes her pacing. “Spin this is in a way that will turn it into a win for us.” She stops and stares at me. “We can make her your new girlfriend. She’s got that Plain Jane thing down pat. It’ll go perfectly with your new clean image as a laid back, salt of the earth type.”
Salt of the earth? The same man who refuses to drink any brand other than Fiji water?
Jess’ eyes get as big as saucers while my face turns beet red.
“No,” Mona finally says, possibly saving us all.
“Why not?” Jules queries.
I’m not worried. This is where Mona shines. She will concoct some diabolical reason that Jules will never see coming. This is where all those strange stories Mona told me over the years will finally come in handy.
“Because…” She squints, makes a pensive face. “Because he’s not her type.”
I stare and wait. She’s just getting warmed up. Just getting started. She’s going to pull one out of a hat now…
“Because he’s not her type?” Jules repeats. “Who gives a shit? He’s a famous movie star. She’s a nobody. I can make it work.” She eyeballs me. “Get her cleaned up.”
I turn to Mona and mutter, “That’s the best you can do?”
“She makes me nervous.”
We’re doomed.
“Aid,” I say, glancing at Aidan, “you know I love you, but I can’t do this.” I turn back to Jules. “This isn’t going to work. Tell them the truth or I will. Aidan and I are friends. I am sleeping with his brother.”
“I knew it!” Mona yelps.
“Goddammit!” Jules shouts. “Now I have to deal with a love triangle?”
“No, no love triangle. It’s a straight love line. From me to Shane.”
Jules looks around, her mouth pursing. “Where is Shane?”
“Hello?” I call out upon entering the guesthouse.
“In here,” Shane answers.
Something’s up; I can feel it. And it’s not a good thing. With my heart lodged in my throat, I walk to the bedroom and find him there. He’s in the middle of dumping drawers of clothing on to the bed. He’s moving so quickly that if I didn’t know better, I would think he’s on the run from the feds.
“I have to go,” he says in a low voice. He crosses the bedroom and grabs the unmentionables drawer. T-shirts, underwear, socks. It all gets dumped into a messy heap. Red flags everywhere. They are flying high right now. My pulse races and my stomach flip-flops.
Then he starts grabbing clothing out of the closet and stuffing it in his army green duffel bag. “The publisher wants me in London and Geneva, maybe Rome. London for an interview and the other two for signing.”
Nervously, I shift from foot to foot and cram my hands into the back pockets of my shorts to stop them from fidgeting.
Right. Of course. I knew this day was coming. It was only a matter of time before the bear was on the move again.
I nod over and over for lack of a better response. “Okay, yeah. About that nonsense with the press––you know nothing happened. That I didn’t have anything to do with it.”