Chapter 25
Keira
I’m still not sure what we’re celebrating, but judging by my surroundings, I’m guessing it’s something monumental.
Then again, I could be wrong. Aegean Grill in Santa Monica is a sophisticated, upscale seafood restaurant with an extensive raw-bar option.
Raw fish? No Thanks. We both agree on that front.
When I saw wild jumbo Mexican shrimp on the menu, I was sold.
We’ll start with that and share the wild Virginia black sea bass.
We just placed our order, and I’m already salivating.
Rhys lifts his champagne flute. “Here’s to tonight.”
“Finally, I get to find out what the big deal is about,” I say, lifting my glass.
“Oh, no, dimples, not yet.” He bursts my bubble. “It’s still too early in the evening for that. We’ll have that discussion over dessert.”
“Are you seriously going to make me wait that long?”
“Yup. I don’t want you to get too excited and ruin your appetite. I’m being a considerate boyfriend. Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”
“You’re killing me, you know that?”
“I do.” His grin widens. “Here’s to tonight.”
I clink my glass with his before taking a long sip of the effervescent liquid.
He does the same. “Not bad?” He lifts his glass at eye level.
“You mean, holy shit, this is amazing?”
He chuckles.
Bless the French.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are tonight?”
I blush. “Not in the last fifteen minutes.”
He leans into the table. “Well, my girlfriend is hot, and I can’t wait to find out which French Appliqué number she’s hiding underneath that sexy dress.”
I have to squeeze my thighs together to curtail my throbbing pussy.
Damn him.
When I accepted his challenge, I didn’t go at it with half measures.
I only had forty-five minutes to get ready.
In my spike heels, it was impossible not to hear me coming down the stairs.
Rhys’s attention was trained on me like a laser beam.
When I reached the last step, the intense heat radiating from his blue eyes took the wind out of my lungs.
He was speechless for a few long beats before rendering his verdict, “Mission accomplished. You took my breath away. Let’s get out of here before I change my mind about dinner”.
His sweet and naughty words made me want to beg him to stay home.
“I offered you a peek earlier, but you––”
“Yoo-hoo, oh, Rhys.” A female voice interrupts me.
I turn around.
A glamorous blonde glides towards our table.
Her wrists are pinned to her narrow hips, exaggerating each step the way a model would sashaying down the runway.
In her vertiginous heels, she looks like an Amazonian.
The contrast between her long hair and her low cut, formfitting emerald-green dress is arresting.
The blonde’s large breasts spill out of the top part of the deep décolletage.
It isn’t a stretch to assume she’s a lingerie model.
Or an actress. Or socialite. Or a rich and powerful woman.
In other words, she’s nothing like me. If I had to put a face––and a body––to my earlier insecurities, this woman is it.
The petals of my blooming confidence in regard to being enough for Rhys wilt a little. Okay, a lot.
“Rhys, darling.” The blonde stops at our table. She ignores me. “I gave you my number, but you never called,” she says before pouting like a child.
Satisfaction courses through me.
Thank you, God. She’s not one of his uncomplicated flings.
“Good evening, Addison,” Rhys says. His voice is distant. “And for the record, I never made any promises.”
“But we had a great night together,” the blonde says.
“We talked. Nothing more,” he says.
“But I wanted to offer so much more. I wanted to offer you all of this.” She sweeps a manicured finger along her tall frame.
Seriously?
“I’m good,” Rhys says.
“Oh, darling—”
“I’m not your darling, Addison.”
I flinch.
“But you could be…” The TV game show model hand gesture ensues.
Cue an eye roll.
“Addison, you’re interrupting our dinner,” Rhys says.
She does this sound of disgust as her face contorts. For the first time since the beginning of this circus act, Addison’s attention shifts to me. She narrows her blue eyes. “You’ve downgraded.”
Oh God.
Rhys’s eyebrows hit his forehead. “Excuse me?”
“Please,” she says. “You go from this…”—She does that ridiculous hand gesture again—“…to that?” She points at me. “It’s like downgrading from a top-of-the-line sports car to a mule.”
Jesus, she could’ve gone for the Worst Car Ever award-winner.
A mule?
Sheesh.
“Addison, keep walking,” Rhys says.
“Seriously, Rhys…” I guess she didn’t hear the warning in his voice. “I’m way better. She gives off the vibe of an inept virgin. And she’s wearing white, for God’s sake. On a weekday. At a seafood restaurant.”
I wasn’t aware I was committing fashion suicide when I selected my outfit.
I opted for a sexy, but tasteful, white dress that hits me above the knee with a seductive V neckline and an elegant slip.
I complemented the look with a pair of Cedrics—aka Cedric de Seignard—skyscraper glitter silver heels.
Arianne swears by the French shoe designer.
I thought I’d nailed it. Doubt twists my tummy.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t know what to do with a guy like you.” Addison isn’t done crucifying me. “I would.”
I’m mortified.
Rhys stands up and throws his napkin on the table. “I’m not in the habit of making a scene, but you asked for it, Addison.”
“I’m just saying––”
“Stop talking.” Rhys’s tone seethes with anger as his gaze narrows.
Yikes.
“You’re interrupting my date. That’s rude––”
“But I thought you didn’t date?”
“I said, stop talking,” Rhys says. “You, Addison, are not the type of woman I’d date. Keira, my girlfriend, is.” He points at me.
A public declaration?
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Oh my freaking God.
Goosebumps explode across my body, running from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
Rhys just made an official announcement in the middle of a chichi restaurant.
I’m floored.
My chest pumps a little, proud like a peacock.
“But––”
“Men talk amongst buddies, Addison.”
“Wh—what do you mean?” There’s a distinct tremble of hesitation in her voice.
This is getting good.
“J7.”
Huh?
“J7?” Addison’s goes up by several octaves.
Who’s J7?
He leans into her. “Yes, the South Korean boy group consisting of seven members… the guys you allowed to gangbang you multiple times for bragging rights,” he says in a low voice.
Lucky for me, I’m sitting close enough to catch that juicy tidbit.
“A buddy of mine warned me, one man isn’t enough for you,” Rhys says.
That’s a lot of cocks in one shot.
Dirty Addison.
Popcorn would be really good right about now.
Addison takes a step back and straightens her back, her jaw lifted in defiance.
“This is bullshit,” she says. “Men do it all the time. When a woman does it, it’s a double standard. How is that even fair?”
I commiserate, my sister, but it just is. You’re going to have a hard time selling that one.
“So what if I like it with multiple men at once? It’s always been my preference. It gets boring with one guy.” She rolls her eyes. “There’s so much discrimination against people who are polyamorous.”
This ain’t no reverse harem romance book, Goldilocks.
“Think of the extensive experience I bring to the table.” Her judgmental gaze slides to mine before returning her focus to Rhys.
I’m okay not having as much experience as you do, Dirty Addison.
“Except for you, I’d keep it one on one.” She flashes Rhys a bright smile.
Her generosity knows no bounds.
When they say you can’t judge a book by its cover, I wonder if they had Addison in mind.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me.” Rhys’s tone is razor sharp. “I’m here on a date with my girlfriend. As for your offer, I wouldn’t touch you even if you promised me twenty billion dollars.”
That’s a lot of coin.
My man’s unimpressed gaze sweeps down the drama queen’s length. “You can take your extensive experience and get the hell out of my face.”
Addison’s back stiffens, which causes her ample bosom to protrude.
The reverse harem addict shoots me one last nasty glare.
I respond with an angelic smile.
She huffs and turns on her heel to an awaiting audience. All eyes are on her as she performs her walk of shame, the confident runway sashay a distant memory.
Buh bye, bitch.
Rhys sits back down. “I’m sorry about that travesty.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He lets out a loud sigh.
His expression is sullen, as if a war is raging inside him. “Listen, Keira…”
My stomach drops.
“I’m not going to sit here and insult your intelligence,” he says. “My past is bound to crash with the present.” He reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers together. “There isn’t anything I can do about it.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“You need to believe me when I say, right here, right now, it’s about you… only you.”
My worries turn to dust.
My heart swells so much, I swear, it’s about to explode.
After a sincere apology from the restaurant manager and a complimentary bottle of premium rosé champagne, we were able to return to the blissfulness of our date.
A few people stared at me a little longer than conformable after the blonde model made her exit.
I offered them a smile. I don’t blame them for pulling out their phones to capture the drama.
Since Addison was the main focus, I’m not too worried.
Not to mention, my short blonde hair allows me to hide in plain sight.
Dinner was outstanding.
The shrimp was so succulent, I thought I was having a communion with God. The wild sea bass melted in my mouth. The chef is gifted. Everything else was on par with an unforgettable dining experience––from the attentive wait staff, to the irreproachable wine list, to the relaxing atmosphere.
Even though I was stuffed beyond words, I couldn’t resist dessert. Neither could Rhys. As we polish off the last bite of the chocolate espresso ganache cake with two scoops of the cherry sorbet we shared, the mental countdown starts in my head.
I drop my fork on my empty plate. “So…”
Rhys mimics me. “So…”
“Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough? I even had to endure Addison.”
“She wasn’t part of the program.”
“She monopolizes people’s attention, that’s for sure.”
He grimaces. “Addison Moody is an Instagram model with a massive male following.”
I was right about the model part.
“She’s an attention whore, and so desperate for relevance she’s willing to flash her semi-naked breasts and butt to make sure everyone knows her name. That’s how she managed to land a lucrative sponsorship deal with an adult toy company. Other than that, there isn’t much to her.”
“I see.”
“Let’s focus on why we’re here tonight.” He veers the conversation.
I sit straight in my chair.
“I told you about SCORE Yours?”
“It’s your shiny new project.”
“Beckett and I feel strongly that this is a game changer for us—”
“I’ve said it before, but I’m so proud of you and I’m super excited for you.”
“As of this morning, you’re part of SCORE Yours.”
My face twists in confusion. “What does that mean?”
“You made quite an impression on Arianne,” he says.
“It’s mutual, but that still doesn’t explain what you just said.”
“There’s so much you underestimate about yourself, Keira,” he says.
“Okay… I thought this was a celebration. Why does it feel like my head is on the chopping board?”
“You have it all wrong,” he says. “Your head is about to become a commodity.”
“Can you translate that in English, please?”
Rhys tells me all about his meeting with Beckett and Arianne.
When he finishes, I stare at him, my eyelashes batting a mile a minute, my heart lurching in my throat.
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“Me?” That’s all I manage. My hand goes to my hair, playing with the short strands as I worry my lower lip. “Really?”
“Yes. You. Really.”
If I weren’t in so much shock, I’d laugh at his teasing. “Are you sure?”
“All three of us are on the same page, Keira.”
“Wow.”
“Given what we have planned, your beautiful face is going to be everywhere—here and abroad.”
“There was no one else up for the job?” I let out a nervous laugh.
He shoots me a stern look. “There were several other candidates we could’ve selected, but we want you.”
“Allow me to repeat my question—”
“Why is it so unbelievable we’d select you?”
“Come on, you guys can do better than me.”
Rhys shakes his head. “I disagree.”
“I left LA with big dreams in my pocket and an even bigger attitude, but I return home broken and broke. I have nothing to show for it. How in the world can I represent your product and your company?”
He studies me for a long beat.
My cheeks flush under his inspection.
“You’re perfect for this,” he says. “You’ve wanted to make your mark in this world since you were twelve.
You stumbled the first dozen times you took a stab at fame, but that’s not uncommon.
This time, it’s about who you are. Not a fake persona someone who doesn’t care dictates.
This is about Keira Weatherly––the artist who stood up to her recording company because she wouldn’t bend to their creative violation, the faithful friend who despite it all, remained loyal, and proved it by etching it permanently on her skin, the woman who was willing to travel to the other side of the planet to discover who she was, the fearless rebel willing to shave her head to free herself from her past, and last, but not least, my kickass girlfriend. ”
A tear rolls down my face.
I don’t even bother to wipe it away.
So many emotions swirl inside me… and that’s okay.