Chapter 45
BIX
Iwake after a restless night’s sleep. The once-crisp sheets are twisted around my torso. Oscar the turtle lies squashed beneath my head.
And Toto’s snuggled so close I can’t extricate myself without waking him. But he can’t be bothered to get up.
He yawns and rolls over as I take a deep breath and open my bedroom door.
The living area is pristine, untouched since last night.
After another breath, I press my ear against Slayer’s bedroom door.
Silence. I twist the knob.
The bed is still fresh. So Slayer spent the night elsewhere. I feel a surge of emotion welling up within me. Not quite rage. Not anger. More like a stomach-dropping pain.
Like something I once believed in has been torn away.
The trust I built with him after our misunderstandings is gone just as quickly as it was forged.
I walk back to my room and think about how the day is scheduled. There’s an interview with an international fashion magazine this morning, and then a limo will come at 2 p.m. to take me to N?mes in time for Slayer’s concert.
There I’ll play the role of the adoring girlfriend one last time. Interviews for the two of us may follow. And after that, I’ll be free.
Well, I remember Milo saying something about a party to celebrate Slayer’s new album. Then I’ll need to pack for our flight tomorrow afternoon.
That can’t come soon enough. I’m done here.
Back in New York, I’ll collect my check, pay off some student loans, and say goodbye to Slayer forever.
I try not to think about the way he looked at me during our Shibari session—like I was the only woman in the world who could see past his Dark Prince persona.
After I take a shower, I’m surprised to find Toto watching me as I towel off.
“Hey, little guy. I’m not used to being watched as I dress. Mind if I have some privacy?” He yips and wags his tail, but remains for the show. “Okay. Have it your way.”
I check my phone and see a message from Milo. I can’t click on it fast enough, hoping it might contain some news about Slayer.
But it’s simply a reminder of the interview, along with a directive to wear the suit Antoine selected for me.
Efficient as ever, Milo has again attached a photo to show which one he means.
Time to get down to business.
I apply my makeup with extra care. Slayer’s girlfriend must be perfect. After dressing in the obligatory suit, I look at the strands of my faux pearls lying on the nightstand.
Though I’m never without them, today I leave them where they are. I don’t want to be accused of wearing unapproved accessories.
And anyway, those pearls represent the core of the real Bix. Not her fake socialite twin.
“Want to join the interview, Toto?”
He yips something I take to be a yes.
“Good. I need some moral support. It’s showtime.”
When I step from the elevator out into the lobby, Milo’s already there. He looks especially dapper in a fitted beige suit and crisp white shirt, with a trendy David Yurman amulet around his neck.
“You’re stunning,” he says, inspecting me from top to bottom. “When I first met you, I didn’t think you could rock this Upper-East-Side vibe so well.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?” I quip, falling into our usual pattern.
“A bit of both.” He smirks. “Did you read the dossier on the journalist, Madame Mecure, I sent you? She writes the ‘Behind the Scenes’ column for Luxury Lifestyle magazine. Did you even open the issue I emailed you?”
“Of course, Milo.”
“Good. Remember to play nice.”
“I always play nice.”
“True enough, Miss Sunshine. But today it’s a solo interview. You won’t have Slayer to play off of. You’ll have to charm Madame Mecure all on your own.”
I nod. “Milo, what happened to Slayer last night? He never came back to the suite after the party.”
“You’re paid to be his girlfriend, not his warden,” he says carefully, not meeting my eyes. Milo’s talent for deflection reminds me how little I really know about Slayer’s world.
“You need to focus on this interview and the information you’re supposed to be conveying. Anyway, why should that matter to you?” he asks after a moment.
I decide I might as well be honest. “Haven’t you seen that I’m falling in love with him?”
He sighs. “Join the crowd, honey. Everyone wants him.”
“We had something good. We spent time together. I feel like he’s—”
He takes my hand. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to fall in love with a rock star? Especially one like Slayer. He has secrets you know nothing about.”
“I know about the nasty divorce, the tabloid rumors. That’s why you hired me, remember?”
“Right. So let’s focus on your job,” Milo says as a woman in an elegant Chanel suit, very similar to mine, walks through the hotel doors. “She’s here. I’ll make introductions.”
Ten minutes later, I sit opposite Madame Mecure in one of the rooms the hotel reserves for business meetings.
She’s a nice-enough woman—the epitome of a polished European sophisticate. Her practiced smile and calculating eyes suggest a journalist who’s interviewed dozens like me, the temporary accessories of famous men.
“Your bio says you grew up on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“I imagine you attended a private high school like the one in the TV show Gossip Girl.”
I manage a laugh. “You got it.”
“Any drama for our readers?” she asks, leaning forward with a smile.
“Let’s focus on my relationship with Slayer,” I say, remembering the talking points Milo gave me.
The irony isn’t lost on me. Here I am, redirecting to a relationship that’s more fictional than the background they invented for me.
“Very well. What’s it like sleeping with the Dark Prince?”
I’m taken aback by the question. I meet Milo’s eyes, and he nods that I should answer. “Slayer is incredibly hot. I’d love to go into detail, but I know your publication wouldn’t print it. And I wouldn’t want my mother to read it.”
We both laugh—an easy escape from a difficult question.
“Well, I think I have enough material to write my article,” she says a little while later, tapping on her computer. “And now I need to rush to meet my deadline.”
She gets up as if to leave, but turns back to me. “One more thing. I heard you sing last night. You’re incredibly talented. Do you worry that you’re playing the supporting act in his spotlight?”
The question gives me pause. It’s the first genuine thing she’s asked.
“Slayer supports me in everything I do,” I say, wishing it were true. Wishing the man who laughed with me and seemed for a time to love me would reappear from beneath the Dark Prince facade.
“Good work,” Milo confirms when the journalist leaves the room.
“Thanks. I just wish—"
Milo raises a hand and cuts me off. “Honey, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and a good voice in your lungs. Think about how that money you’re earning is going to help you achieve your dreams. That’s what I’d do.” With that, he turns and heads for the door. “I’ll see you later in Nimes.”