SIX
IF THERE WAS one person in the world who wouldn’t expect her to come a-knockin,’ it had to be the guy who lived on the other side of the apartment door.
Security loitered over her shoulder, doing their thing, being vigilant. Good job.
Now back in LA, Astrid had offered to do the task for her, but no, she was no coward. If Roxie had to knock, knock, knock all day…
Unless he’d gone out. People did that. She was out, if randoms came knocking on her door—okay, so that wasn’t exactly possible these days—
When the door popped from the frame, her posture and expression changed, starlight on.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Crosby… Hmm…” This was no dazzling professional.
Weren’t reporters supposed to be switched on and ready at all times?
Always prepared for the story? She could be a story, right there on his doorstep, and he definitely wasn’t ready.
“Do you know it’s afternoon?” His hair stuck out fifty different ways, his eyes were heavy, skin dull. “Are you ill?”
“I was out late, I—” And then he really took things in. “Why are you—what are you doing here, Miss Kyst?”
Oh, formal, why was he going with that? “You’re not going to invite me in?”
In his defense, she rarely invited him in when he came a-knockin’ for her.
“I don’t have a skyscraper penthouse.”
She leaned in. “Neither did I. Do we need a history lesson out here in the hallway? I’m from Regular Land too.”
Home was home, even if it wasn’t pristine. Jane was the reason their Chicago pad was spotless. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken initiative herself. Sure, she did chores, that Jane assigned. On her own initiative, she’d only get it wrong anyway.
“Okay. Please, come in.”
Keeping hold of the door, he stepped back, sweeping an arm her way. Security ducked around her first, something he hadn’t expected judging by his expression.
“It’s their thing. You’re not vetted. Sorry.”
Was she sorry? No one wanted their home to be invaded, but Zairn had his reasons and she’d always trust them.
If it made him happy, it made her happy too.
Funny that he always felt she was safer when they were together.
Yes, that meant more bodies protecting them, but if someone wanted to hurt her, chances were they wanted to hurt Zairn too.
His chivalrous self would get between her and danger, of course, what she relied on was Ballard getting between her guy and the baddie first.
Security gave her the nod of admission before clearing the doorway and letting her inside. The apartment wasn’t offensive, there was just little to it. She’d seen tidier but didn’t fear catching anything.
“You want anything to drink? I have soda and vodka.”
“Staples,” she said, going to look out the window at the street below before answering him over her shoulder. “No, thank you, I’m good.”
“Here to threaten me some more?”
Dipping a hand into her bag, she spun on the spot and produced the tablet. “Missing something?”
“Shit,” he said. “I wanted to believe I dropped it somewhere.”
“You did. On my couch,” she said, leaving the window to put it on the coffee table. “You don’t have to worry. Any secrets you have on there are safe.”
The tilt of his head and narrowing of his eyes was dubious. “You telling me The Great Zairn Lomond doesn’t know someone who’d get through a passcode?”
“He does. The Great Zairn Lomond, which I take as a compliment, not in the snide way you just said it, is in New York.”
“He has buddies out here.”
“He has buddies everywhere,” she said, exaggerating the last word. “Rather than be hostile, you should know he was the one advocating two wrongs don’t make a right.”
“Roxie—”
“You have your tablet back. Safe. Unviolated.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Whatever you’re going to write about us, you’ll write it either way. It is funny though…”
“What’s funny? That you stole my property?”
“Your affront is funny given you invade people’s lives for a living. And no one stole anything, you left your property in my residence. My guy often leaves his love seed inside me, would you accuse me of stealing that too?”
It was so much better to just be her and not concern herself with giving him sound bites. If she did, so what? Not like she would say anything incriminating… would she?
“That’s given voluntarily.”
A quip died on her wide mouthed inhale. Yeah, this wouldn’t be the best time to joke about consent. Reporter, Roxie, this guy was a reporter. And men could be violated too. Not her guy, when it came to her, but other guys.
“Your property has been returned to you,” she said. See, very mature. “Write about this if you want, but please include the reason you came to me in the first place.”
In two long strides, he came closer. “You invited me. Entrapped me.”
“What is it you have to hide, Mr. Crosby? What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Good, then you’ll have no problem including your own guilt of setting up Anjelica.”
“I didn’t—”
“Maybe you should take this last forty-eight hours as a lesson. You can write what you want about Zairn and I. You don’t need permission and I know you will anyway.
But think before you act, Mr. Crosby. This is your business, and I get that you need to make money, but these are people’s lives.
Real flesh and blood humans, just the same as you.
Z and I can tough anything out. I wonder how much protection you’ve given Anjelica, or did you even think about that? ”
“She’s safe where she is.”
What did that mean? Anjelica was somewhere? Specific? Set up by Crosby or whoever was pulling his strings? Just the notion there was still manipulation going on concerned her. Or was that an overreaction?
“And where is she?”
“You came to set your example,” he said. “You have. Great. Are you through?”
He backed toward the door, arm stretching behind him, probably to grope for the handle, only he never got that far.
“You saw the gentlemen who accompanied me here, right? Throwing me out isn’t a simple process.”
“What is it you want?” he asked. “The interview? I can get you that interview, if you want it. Though you screwed me over last time, is that another lesson? Fool me once—you want to make a fool of me again?”
“How did I make a fool of you?”
“Getting Kesley in there before Julietta.”
“Oh,” she said, her lips staying in a circle as her eyes went to the side. “You were the catalyst for the Julietta Ines interview. That’s right. I forgot.”
“Yes. And you slipped Kesley right in there first. Didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me.”
Okay, uh, that was Zairn. Think Kesley would ever do anything she said? Not a chance… unless it was her playing pretend Zairn to get the woman to dinner. Long story.
Yes, her Casanova could get Kesley Walsh to do anything. That sounded rude, it wasn’t rude. They were close, her guy had good relationships with all kinds of people across the world. As Kesley once put it, “ Z is on good terms with everyone. Even those he isn’t on good terms with. ”
“You give me too much credit,” she said.
“You calling me a liar?”
She shrugged. “If that will make you feel better…” He steamed. “Look, every word I say in public is owned or owed to someone.”
That switched on his astute stare again. “And you want out?”
She laughed. “Is this how you relate to all people, Mr. Crosby? Every conversation is a lead? A prospective scoop?”
“In this town, it’s all about perspective.” Which was how she got herself into trouble so often. “And don’t judge me, we’re not all as lucky to live the high life twenty-four seven. Some of us have bills to pay.”
“Invading other people’s lives isn’t the way to do it. There’s plenty you can write about Zairn and I without setting up some innocent patsy. That’s who she’ll be now, this Anjelica, forever, the ‘other’ woman. Though we both know she’s nothing of the sort.”
“You didn’t say this much the other day.”
“My purpose then was to avoid giving you a quote.”
“You’re not avoiding it now?”
She sighed. “Why can’t we just be human beings?”
“You’re a celebrity, Roxie, famous, you belong to the world. This is the life you chose.”
“I belong to Zairn and he to me,” she said and voila! “There’s your quote.”
Completely by accident. Job done. Man, she was good.
“What? That’s it?” he asked when she headed his way, given the door was behind him. “You slink off out of here?”
“What would you prefer I do? I could press charges.”
“Against me? For what?”
“Right now, false imprisonment. If I open my mouth and scream, there’ll be a story. One that wouldn’t do much for your reputation.”
On an incredulous exhale, he relaxed. “You don’t get it, do you? You think this is a war, that we’re on opposing sides. You don’t see it.”
“Don’t see what?”
“You’re Cinderella.”
“Cinda-fuckin-rella? Me?”
“We’re fascinated, everyone’s fascinated. You didn’t just enthrall Lomond, you captivated the rest of us too.” Hopefully for different reasons. “You’ve got charisma, yeah, and you’re beautiful, you’re fucking hot, but that’s not it. Not all of it… You’re living the fantasy.”
Zairn was the fantasy. Crosby was right about perspective. Others may see the money or the lifestyle, the Prince Charming, and it was a helluva view. She got that. Except, for her, it was the man. The one the world didn’t know. Her man. Her Casanova. Her Zairn Lomond.
It wasn’t often she thought about how her life was blessed. No, truthfully, she thought about that a lot. Things had turned around in a massive way. She hadn’t been unhappy in her life pre-Zairn, yet, compared to now…? She’d never been so complete.
Hmm, that might be a good one for the vows.
Jane and Toria reminded her on a regular, regular basis that her guy’s yumminess on the yummy scale was high.
So did her Delights, and the Crimsettes, and, of course, the Queens.
There was an appetite for her life. As she’d been told, numerous times.
In her wildest dreams, pre-Z, she wouldn’t have expected the media would be interested in her, under any circumstances.
Then there was Casanova.
“I’ve heard about it…” he said. “The clamor… for the show.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She did. A little. Ish. Okay, she did. “Sounds like you’re a smidge obsessed.”
“I’m not the only one.” When he pounced closer, she recoiled, not backing off, just leaning away. “You are hot.”
“Okay, it’s creepy when you say that so many times.”
“No, I’m talking about your popularity not your looks. You’re hot property. Hot off the press.”
“Still creepy.”
“Not many people get Karryn Keller.”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “Do you get a cut for high ratings or something?”
“Is Zairn involved in your show? Word is, he’s the holdout.”
Illuminating. “Is that what’s got you amped? You want the interview before everything else kicks off? It’s not about the wedding?”
“It’s a lot about the wedding. Your wedding is the cherry on the cake; it’s one hell of a launch platform.”
“Sorry you didn’t think of it first?”
“Oh, I thought about it. Fantasized about it. But I’d never get close, would I? You’ve got your clique and—”
“Get out of my way.”
“Think about it. The boost. You’d get more money. More exposure.”
She shook her head. “I’m not buying.”
“You lead a charmed life. It’s aspirational. Millions would kill to be on your path. Young women all over the world want to do what you did.”
“What I did? Fall in love with an incredible man?” Her phone chirped. “If those women fall in love with whoever they fall in love with, they’ll be on a path of their own.”
She fished around in her purse for the vibrating device.
“Not many of those women will have the chance to fall for a billionaire playboy.” He exhaled. “Tell me, what’s the biggest thing Zairn’s ever given you?”
“A lady shouldn’t kiss and tell.” Snatching out her phone, she answered and put it to her ear. “Yes, it’s charged. Astounding. Miracles do happen. Hold on, I’m with the LA Lurker.”
The guy on the other end of the line hadn’t even said a word before she let her phone hand fall to her side. LA Lurker wasn’t exactly fair. Reeve Crosby didn’t lurk like the guy in Chicago, he was more of a bam, in your face kind of lurker.
“Is that him? Zairn?” Crosby asked. “On the phone?”
“I haven’t let them speak yet, so I have no idea.” Just because it was Zairn’s number didn’t mean it was him on the line. “What is it you want, Mr. Crosby?”
“Would he ever say no to you? Has he ever said no? What does he do to keep you happy? Why stick by him when all the womanizing stuff comes out? You know it’s going to get worse, that as long as you’re with him there will always be other women.
Do you like it? Do you get to make demands and he delivers to keep you quiet?
Shit, the things you must know about him. ”
Way more than this guy could imagine. None of it related to womanizing.
“Are you going for a record? Most questions in a row. Have you noticed I haven’t answered any of them?”
“Give me something, Roxie… I can help.”
“You have your quote.”
“I want to support you, to champion you, but you don’t make it easy.”
“We each have our roles to play. Please get out of my way.”
“What is it you want?” he asked. “You don’t have to be so hostile.”
“I’m not the one standing between you and the exit, Mr. Crosby. And you won’t begin to know the meaning of hostile until—”
Security invaded Reeve’s apartment. Before she’d blinked, one guy had Crosby pinned to the wall and the other plucked her off her feet to rush them out of there.