Chapter 24
MELODY
Ididn’t leave my townhouse all day. I didn’t dare.
My townhouse was in the name of an LLC but that didn’t mean some savvy sleuth couldn’t figure out it was me.
I didn’t want my address out there. People were crazy.
Influencers walked a fine line. We had to appeal to an audience that believed we were approachable.
Normal. But for our own safety, we also had to make sure there was an invisible wall to keep them from getting too close.
I had a few close calls. Once when I had been grocery shopping a man had come on just a little too strong. He followed me around the store and said things that were entirely inappropriate.
Another time I had been at a club and a couple of women had become very aggressive. They claimed I was making it okay for people to be sick and unhealthy.
And now with all the Austin drama, I knew I would have loyal fans that would want to support me in their own way. But there would also be the creepers that wanted to take advantage of the situation.
I couldn’t believe the downhill dive my day had taken.
What had started as a triumphant morning with the Femme Curve apology and the tide of public opinion finally turning in my favor had devolved into a fresh humiliation by noon.
The photos of Austin at that club were everywhere.
Not just the one Cleo had shown me, but multiple angles, different moments throughout the night.
Austin dancing with the blonde. Austin at the bar with his friend.
Austin looking drunk and messy and exactly like the playboy everyone said he was.
There was apparently a cat fight between two of the women that were trying to snag the elusive Austin Bancroft.
But it was the comments that really ruined my day.
I made the mistake of looking. I knew better, but I did it anyway. I read what strangers thought about me, us, and the whole situation.
Once a Bancroft, always a Bancroft. She should’ve known.
What did she expect? That he’d actually stay with her?
Poor girl. She really thought she had a chance with him.
She was too much woman for him if you know what I mean.
That last one made me want to throw my phone across the room.
The hashtag #OnceABancroftAlwaysABancroft was trending. People were using it to share their own stories of being disappointed by guys who said pretty things but meant nothing. I had become a cautionary tale.
At least the paparazzi photo account made me smile a little.
Someone had anonymously created an Instagram called @AustinBancroftWorstMoments, and it was exactly what it sounded like.
I didn’t want to admit to taking great pleasure in scrolling through the many pictures posted on the account.
Austin’s most unflattering paparazzi shots had me laughing. Even his bad pictures were good.
Austin mid-sneeze. Austin with his eyes half-closed. Austin with food on his face. Austin looking confused by a parking meter.
It was petty and a little mean, but it also felt like someone was in my corner. Like someone else saw Austin Bancroft as human instead of some untouchable god.
But it didn’t fix anything. It didn’t make the hurt go away. It didn’t change the fact that I’d been stupid enough to catch feelings for a man who was exactly what everyone warned me he’d be.
My phone buzzed. Another notification. Another comment. Another person with an opinion about my life.
I silenced it and buried myself deeper into my couch cushions, wrapped in a blanket despite the warm afternoon.
I had tried to work. Really tried. Opened my laptop, pulled up my content calendar, and attempted to plan the week ahead.
But every time I tried to focus, I pictured that photo. Austin and that blonde.
Had he kissed her? Taken her home? Woken up with her this morning while I’d been reading Femme Curve’s apology and thinking about how he’d helped me?
My stomach twisted at the thought.
There was a knock at my door around three in the afternoon. Cleo had left a couple hours ago after it became abundantly clear we weren’t going to get much work done. I considered not answering. Considered staying buried in my blanket cocoon and pretending I didn’t exist.
But the knock came again, more insistent.
“Melody!” Cleo’s voice. “I know you’re in there. Open up or I’m using my key.”
I dragged myself off the couch and opened the door.
“What are you doing back?” I asked.
“I brought supplies,” she said and held up the bag she had in one hand and the pizza box in the other.
“Supplies?”
She pushed past me into the townhouse. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful.”
“I’m being honest. You know I don’t sugarcoat.
” She started unpacking the bags on my kitchen counter.
“But that’s okay. We’re going to make it better.
We are going to binge Friends and stuff our faces.
We are not going to look at our phones or open your laptop. We are in our own perfect black hole.”
She pulled my favorite cookies, from the bakery three blocks over, from the bag.
Chocolate chip, the kind that were slightly underbaked and gooey in the middle.
Then my favorite candy—sour gummy worms that I only let myself have when things were really bad.
A pint of expensive ice cream. And a bottle of wine that was definitely not the grocery store variety.
“Cleo, you didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Yes, I did. Because you’re having a shit day, and you’re my best friend, and this is what best friends do.” She grabbed two wine glasses from my cabinet. “Now sit your ass down and let me take care of you.”
I sat. Let her pour wine. Let her plate cookies and open the candy. She carried in the box of pizza and put it on the coffee table. Went back to the kitchen and returned with more goodies.
“First things first,” she said, settling beside me on the couch. “Fuck Austin Bancroft.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed. “Cleo, that’s not nice.”
“No, I’m serious. Fuck him. Fuck anyone with the last name Bancroft.
Fuck their money and their power and their ability to make people feel small.
” She was on a roll now, her hands gesturing wildly.
“And fuck the trolls. The haters. Everyone sitting behind their keyboards thinking they know a single thing about you.”
“They think they know everything about me.”
“They don’t know shit.” She grabbed my hand, squeezing tight. “They don’t know that you have the biggest heart of anyone in this city. They’re jealous because you’ve built something incredible from nothing. They hate you because they ain’t you.”
Tears pricked at my eyes.
“They don’t know that you’re brave enough to put yourself out there even when it’s scary.
They don’t know you’re kind even to people who don’t deserve it.
And only I know you’re the best friend anyone could ask for.
I would literally go to war for you. I will always bury bodies with you. You are my ride or die.”
“Cleo, you’re my best friend. I love you.”
“I mean it. Tell me who to fight. I’ll fight them. I don’t care if it’s Austin Bancroft or his entire family or every troll on the internet. I will burn it all down for you.”
I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey, no.” Cleo pulled me into a hug, letting me cry into her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m not—” I hiccupped. “I’m not sad. I’m just so grateful you’re my friend. Thank you. For being here. For caring. For not being my enemy because I never want to be on your bad side.”
“Of course I care. You’re my friend.” She rubbed my back. “And Austin Bancroft is an idiot for not seeing what he had.”
“He did see it. He just—he just didn’t want it.”
“Then he’s an even bigger idiot.”
I pulled back, wiping at my eyes. “I told him to go out with someone else. After I left last night. I basically gave him permission.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt you.” Cleo handed me a tissue. “And that doesn’t mean you deserved to have photos of it plastered all over social media.”
She was right. Even if I had told him to call someone, seeing proof of how quickly he’d moved on had gutted me. It made me feel insignificant.
“I really thought—” I stopped, not sure I wanted to say it out loud.
“What?”
“I thought maybe it was becoming real. The arrangement. Us.” I laughed, but it sounded broken. “How stupid is that? Thinking Austin Bancroft could actually fall for someone like me.”
“Stop.” Cleo’s voice was sharp. “Stop doing that thing where you tear yourself down. Austin didn’t move on because there’s something wrong with you. He moved on because there’s something wrong with him.”
“Or maybe we just wanted different things.”
“Maybe. But that still doesn’t make you stupid for hoping.” She grabbed a cookie and handed it to me. “Eat. Then we’re going to watch a bunch of twenty-somethings fumble through life in the most hilarious way possible.”
I took a bite of the cookie. It was gooey, sweet, and exactly what I needed.
“How many times do you think we’ve watched this series?” I asked.
She reached for the remote and pulled up the show. We settled in, pizza, wine, and sweets. It helped having her here. It was nice having someone in my corner who didn’t judge or question. She just showed up when I needed her most.
I was starting to feel almost human again. The wine was definitely helping. There was another knock at my door.
“I swear, if that’s a reporter or a photographer or anyone here to bother you, I’m going to lose it,” Cleo said.
“It’s probably just a delivery.” I stood, grateful to have something to do besides sit and wallow.
I opened the door.
And my heart stopped.
Austin stood on my doorstep.
He looked rough. His hair was messy, not in the artfully tousled way but in the way that said he just rolled out of a hospital bed. Or coffin. He had dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were rumpled. He looked like his day had been about as good as mine had.
But he was here.
“Melody,” he said. Even his voice sounded rough. But I supposed when you partied all night, that was to be expected. “Can we talk? Please?”
Behind me, I heard Cleo make a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a hiss.
“You have some nerve,” she said, appearing at my side. “Coming here after what you did.”
“I know. I know how it looks.”
“It looks like you got bored with my best friend and moved on to the next pretty face you saw.” Cleo crossed her arms. “It looks like you’re exactly what everyone said you were. You also look like you need about a six-foot by seven-foot hole. Maybe seven by three.”
Austin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Just kept his eyes on me.
“Melody, please. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You don’t deserve five seconds,” Cleo spat.
But I held up a hand, stopping her. Because despite everything, part of me wanted to hear what he had to say.
Even if that made me the biggest fool in New York.
“It’s okay, Cleo,” I said quietly.
“It’s not okay. He doesn’t get to—”
“Five minutes.” I looked at Austin. “That’s all you get.”
He nodded, relief flashing across his face. “Thank you.”
“Melody, slam the door in his face! Wait, let me pull him forward and then you slam it shut. I want to mess up that pretty face.”
The look on Austin’s face was comical. He wasn’t sure if she was being serious. I knew she was.