The Naughtiest List (Naughtier and Naughtier #4)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

The days have blurred into a bleak mess of torment over the past five weeks, and my former life of filthy clients and smoking hot fantasies feels light years away.

Since my asshole ex Connor used his newfound fame to reveal me as the ‘hooker love of his life who betrayed him’, I’ve been back in the shell I used to crawl into before I worked for The Agency.

Ella Edwards is now a search term used by hundreds of thousands, known only as a spiteful whorish piece of shit. And that’s putting it nicely.

All the online drama chewed me up and spat me out, and I feel nothing like the Ella Edwards I’d blossomed into. I feel nothing like me anymore.

I’m no longer the proud professional hardcorer who built my reputation at The Agency. All I’ve been doing since Connor’s grand announcement is retreat further and further inside, desperate for numbness.

It’s ironic really.

I spent so many years hiding inside myself while I was with him, pursuing his drive for glory and not my own. Retreating into a shell was second nature to me.

I still struggle to believe that the arrogant asshole managed to fuck my life up, all over again.

As a result, my boyfriend Josh and I are now holed up in an Airbnb on the outskirts of London, far from our luxury Belgravia apartment. Far away from home.

I thank my lucky stars every day that I still have Josh beside me. He’s my rock in the storm. My shining light, no matter how dark I feel inside. When the shit hit the fan and the pieces went flying, he was there for me, every step of the way.

Just a shame I’m not taking very many steps at all right now.

I’ve only been outside this little backstreet apartment once, on a mission to get some ice cream from the local store – the only time I built up enough courage to face the outside, dressed in a baggy hoodie with no makeup on. My heart pounded so hard I felt my pulse in my temples.

As soon as Connor blurted out my identity and set the wave of public hate alight, I deleted all of my social media accounts, changed my phone number, and blocked myself off from the world.

I hate this new reality I’m living in.

I hate being here in this Airbnb. I hate missing out on the career I loved and built from nothing. I hate binge watching reality TV while Josh is out on his proposals, working hard.

Goddamnit, how I miss proposals of my own. I miss all of my clients, but there is one massive loss in particular. One that brings tears to my eyes just thinking about him.

Heath.

My favourite client of them all.

The main character in my favourite TV show, Nighttime Whispers, and a man that dreams are made of. Too bad mine are now nightmares. I can’t bring myself to watch even a single episode and see even a hint of his beautiful vampiric smile.

Heath holds a piece of my heart after our week in Cannes together, and I know Josh misses him as badly as I do. Probably worse. He’s just better at keeping a lid on it. Like he is with everything else.

My amazing boyfriend has been determined to keep things as steady as possible to get us through this, going back to work as soon as he knew I was safe to be alone.

My Agency profile is currently listed as temporarily unavailable.

Still on pause like it was while we were away in Cannes.

I’m aching to log back in and see if I have the option of setting it back to live, but I’m scared.

At the top of the Agency’s priorities is keeping confidentiality and anonymity, both for clients and entertainers.

Connor gave that the middle finger, well and fucking truly.

I’m curled up on the sofa yet again tonight when I hear the front door. Josh steps inside fresh from a high-end proposal, and his suit looks divine.

“Hey, you.” He sits down next to me and pulls me in for a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Same old.” I fake smile. “I’ll survive. I’ve got another eighteen episodes to watch of Cake Baker before the season ends.”

Josh normally buys into my humour, but this time he doesn’t smile along.

“It was five weeks this morning, Ells. Five whole weeks since we’ve been here.”

“Yep. I know. It’s practically ingrained into my soul.”

He reaches for the remote and turns the volume down.

“Honestly, we’re going to have to tackle this. We can’t stay trapped in here for ever, and there is only so much Cake Baker you can watch. You’re missing out on so much, baby. So damn much.”

Oh, don’t I know it. That knowledge is rife in the very air.

Josh has the undeniable scent of sex about him, and up close he’s dishevelled from his proposal.

The purple streak at the front of his gorgeous dark hair looks like it’s been tugged.

Hard. The top button of his shirt is still undone, tie not in position.

Fuck, how I miss that kind of dishevelment.

Crazy wild nights with clients, serving their fantasies and raking in the cash for it.

I miss coming home after my sessions and talking through how filthy they were with Josh, revelling in the aftermath. I miss sharing stories, comparing our proposals.

Now it’s all one sided. Him telling me about his.

I put a finger under my chin, as though I’m pondering my options.

“Hmm, I dunno. I’ve been looking online. I could make a pretty penny out of selling dirty panties. Socks, too. Hell, I could sell anything. Even mini vials of piss. How’s that sound?”

Josh sighs. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I! I really could make something out of it, and it would force me to venture out to the post office. That would be progress, right?”

The brush of his thumb against my cheek is too much for me. I feel a thump in the guts.

“Sell your delicious panties all you want, but you also need to get your life back.”

I despise the way my tears well up.

“How can I? Connor’s well and truly fucked me over this time, and you know it.”

“You can’t let him win, Ella. He might have blurted your name and set the paps off on a mission, but the dust is settling. Tiff said they’ve fucked off from Belgravia, remember? Not a single one left in sight.”

The thought of our apartment sends a tear rolling down my cheek. I want to go home so bad it hurts. Living out of a suitcase feels anchorless. Horrible.

I’ve had people trying to reassure me all the while since the shit first hit the fan, telling me everything will be ok. Mum, Dad, Eb and Tiff. Josh’s family, too. But they’re just being optimistic.

Josh wipes my tear from my face.

“Have you been scrolling again today?”

I shake my head. “No, I stopped that.”

“Really?”

“I swear. I haven’t looked at all!”

“Ok.”

As sad as it sounds, I’ve been like a damn addict to the drama online.

It’s been so easy to doom scroll through bullshit posts about Connor’s ‘evil cheat hooker ex’, reading all the hate filled comments about what a bitch I am.

If only they knew the truth. I’d have never been the one to cheat on him. Not in a million years.

“I’ve been doing some scrolling myself today actually,” Josh says.

“Apparently, Connor was spotted with Katie Del Francis last night. Rumours say they were snorting coke for hours off a nightclub table. He launched a shitty tirade at a security guard, and they both gave the bartenders the middle finger on their way out.”

I pull away from Josh to check his expression.

“Connor was hanging out with Katie Del Francis?! Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

Jesus Christ, despite the shock, I can imagine it.

Connor had an over inflated ego without the whole world stoking it, so by now he must be an absolute abomination.

And Katie Del Francis, the crazy wild singer of Bitch Bunnies, is notorious for being an asshole.

She’s surrounded by a whirlwind of gossip and bitchy rumours everywhere she goes, and it’s no surprise.

She emanates a mean girl vibe from her very soul, and her interviews usually leave a foul taste in the public mouth.

She’s got an ego to match Connor’s and that’s saying something. No wonder they hooked up.

“Things always move on, Ells,” Josh says. “These Connor and Katie rumours are trending like crazy, which is going to drown out the bullshit about you. You’ll barely be a memory in the public eye before long.”

“Yeah, I know. Scandals die down, people get bored…”

“But do you know? Really?”

I look him in the eye. “Yeah, I do know. This crap won’t last for ever. It can’t.”

“No, it can’t. And right now the world is talking about coke snorting and Katie Del Bitch Face, so here’s your shot.”

“My shot?”

“Yes. Take the opportunity of the distraction and use it. Grab hold of life again. You can do it.”

My heart is suddenly thumping at the prospect.

Katie Del Francis is such a controversy that she could release a fart in public and it would go viral. So take that and pair it with Connor…

“You think I can do it?” I ask Josh. “For real? You think it’s really worth the risk?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

I wish I was as confident as he is. The thought of stepping out into the world again feels alien. Terrifying.

But so fucking good.

“Do it,” Josh says and reaches for my phone. “Open up the Agency app and reinstate your calendar. Take the leap of faith.”

I take the handset from him, reeling at the fear.

“We don’t even know if I can yet. What if The Agency removed the option? What if they say I can’t have my account back? What if they’ve taken me down?”

“Only one way to find out. You know full well Orla hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t.”

“She shouldn’t, you mean. Not as far as official policy is concerned. But she could have.”

I shift uncomfortably. I’ve told Josh to keep out of it at all costs when it comes to The Agency. I don’t want my shit spilling over into his career. It wouldn’t be fair.

I look at my phone screen. My finger hovers over the app.

“I’m not sure I can face it.”

At that, he tips my face up to his, and the love in his eyes is so fierce it takes my breath.

“You can face anything, because you’re you. And we’re us. Side by side. Do it. Don’t let him win. Not again.” He pauses. “Don’t give the prick what he wanted. You’re worth too much for that. Way too fucking much.”

The confidence that radiates from Josh is palpable, and it spurs me on.

The thought of Connor living it up and being an evil asshole alongside Katie Del Francis ignites a burn of rage, and it’s enough to have me nodding in agreement, because Josh is right.

I am ME. The me I found when Connor first fucked off with another woman and kicked me to the kerb, before crawling back like a pitiful loser and fucking her over too.

I dismissed him then, and I will dismiss him now.

Fuck him. And fuck the bullshit he’s brought to my door.

If this is my shot at fading into obscurity, I owe Katie Del Bitch Face a thank you card.

Josh is right. Now is my chance. I have to take it.

“Ok, here we go,” I tell the boyfriend I truly deserve, and finally press the login button.

I hold my breath when I enter my credentials. My heart is pounding like utter crazy as the home screen comes up and inactive shows at the top. But the set to available button is still next to it… I still have the option for my entertainer alias Holly to go live again…

Please, God.

“Do it!” Josh says, and I can tell by his smile that he’s as relieved as I am to see the option still there. “The Agency hasn’t deactivated you, Ells. You’ve still got your account. So do it. Set your calendar to live and get those proposals coming in!”

It takes me three deep breaths before I do it, and I squeal out loud when my calendar shows up, available and unscathed. No messages from Orla, no disciplinaries, nothing. Just my ‘Holly’ profile, with all my naughty list boxes still ticked and available for bookings.

I can’t believe it. All the terror, and it was there the whole time. I can be Holly again, just so long as people still want to use me.

If they want to use me.

If feels like it’s gonna be a big if.

I might never get any proposals again if clients have recognised me, and I’d understand. I truly would.

Luckily, I don’t have long to worry. The first proposal lands in my inbox within seconds, and my jaw drops open in shock.

Holy hell, I’m back in action, and Connor can go fuck himself. No matter how scared I am, I’m going to get back out there and take my chances!

My fingers are quaking as I call up the proposal, and I click accept before even reading it through.

Yeah. I got this.

It’s time to be myself again, whatever the goddamn consequences.