Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
LIVIANNA/LILY
Now
Paris Predicaments & Questionable Connections
There’s an ache in my heart that grows each day I’m here…but I refuse to face it.
“Livianna Hemings.” A tall, good-looking man gawks at me near the entrance to this evening’s luxury business summit. “I’m so mad at you.”
I glance at Jaxon, who’s standing next to me in the check-in line. “Do you know him?”
“Does he know me?” The guy joins us with his eyebrows raised. “Why would you ask that? You know he does.”
Jaxon peers down at me. “Let me handle?—”
“What is with you two?” The guy crosses his arms. “You’ve been out of Paris less than a year, and this is how you treat me?”
“Trent, Livianna was in an accident and has some memory issues.” Jaxon steps behind me in a protective stance.
Trent’s eyes go wide, and he places one of his palms on my shoulder. “Is that why you haven’t been in contact since you left?”
“Probably.” I smile and try to smooth out this misunderstanding. “Trent, is it?”
“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How much are you missing?”
“Depends.” I shrug. “How close were we?”
Was this man my secret lover? He’s definitely attractive.
He plants his hands on his hips. “I was your best friend until you left. How could you forget that?”
“Let’s speak in private.” Jaxon guides us off to the side of the event. “We don’t want anyone with ill intentions getting wind of Livianna’s current state.”
Jaxon’s phone vibrates against his jacket pocket. He pulls it free, reads the screen, and his jaw tightens.
“I have to take this.” He steps closer, giving me a terse nod. “I trust Trent, but stay here.”
“Jaxon, I’ll be fine.” I gesture toward Trent. “I need to catch up with him.”
Jaxon lingers for one beat longer than necessary before turning and crossing toward the main entrance, phone already raised.
Trent admires him as he leaves. “That man is still as hot as ever.”
I turn and study Jaxon. My stomach spins and my insides heat. He is yummy.
What the fuck, Livianna? You’re married!
I internally slap myself. “Trent, while he’s gone, there’s a correction I should make.”
“What?”
“It’s Livianna Mayze now.” I flash him my ring. “Not Hemings.”
He goes completely still. His mouth opens, closes, and then he huffs a scant breath.
“You’re married?”
“I am.”
“To whom?”
“Callum Mayze. The lead singer of Mayhem.”
“Mayhem’s your brother’s band.” Trent lifts my left hand, gazing at my wedding ring. “You never told me about any relationship with the frontman of the band.”
“I didn’t?”
“No. Not once.” He drops my hand. “I’m not sure I can accept this new information.”
His reaction runs deeper than celebrity surprise. My mind starts building its own quiet theory.
He had been close to me. He’s standing here at a luxury business summit in Paris, still clearly invested in who I am and what has happened to me. The math feels obvious from where I’m standing, so maybe Trent can help.
“Trent.” I angle toward him. “Can I ask you something?”
He spreads his hands in invitation. “Anything.”
“You say we were close, like best friends. Would you say I told you everything?”
“I thought you did, but now I’m second-guessing myself. Why?”
I shift from one leg to the other. “Since I’ve been in Paris for Fashion Week, I keep getting the feeling I had a huge life here.”
“You did.” He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “God, I wish I could smoke in here.”
“I’m sure there’s a smoking section somewhere around here.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He slips them back into his pocket. “I’m trying to quit.”
“You’re not exactly setting yourself up to win.”
He stares at me for a second before the laugh breaks through him, full and unguarded and aimed squarely at my expense.
“You haven’t changed at all. Still sexy as fuck and giving me shit.” He slides his arm around my shoulders. “Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Does Cash Mayze share?”
“Um…” My cheeks burn hot. “That would be a hard no.”
Trent shakes his head with a quirky smile and steps away. “Why the constant rejection, Livianna?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. The parts of my past that I’m missing include the years I was here. I don’t remember any of it.”
“What? That’s absurd. How could you forget your best friend?”
“Is that all we were? Because you’re giving me the impression you wanted more.”
“Every damn day and every chance I got.” He points at me without shame. “And every single time, you shut me down. Politely. Which was somehow worse than if you’d just been rude about it.”
I grimace. “Sorry.”
“You’re not sorry.” He wags his finger at me. “I think you’re entertained.”
“I can be sorry and entertained.”
He shakes his head again, but the warmth behind it is genuine. There’s an easy rhythm present, like that of two people who once knew how to be in a room together without effort. Even without the memory, the comfort is there, quiet and low, like a frequency I can almost place.
“All right.” I roll my shoulders back, refocusing. “If you’re my best friend, tell me one secret I shared with you. Prove to me I trust you.”
He taps his index finger against his lips. “Oh, I have one. You had a threesome with two men at Elite-sinsations. You were blindfolded, so you’ll never know who they were.”
My mouth drops open. “That is not true.”
“Oh, but it is.” Trent pulls me closer. “I was upset you went there when you could’ve let me and one of my friends take care of you.”
I reach for the event in my mind. Usually, I get that horrible headache before a memory breaks through, but I don’t get that.
Instead, my body registers firm hands roaming over me in total darkness, lips brushing mine, and I am wrapped in a sense of empowerment. Trent’s telling me the truth.
I gasp. “Holy shit, Trent! Why would you let me do that? As your best friend, why?”
“Stop being dramatic, Livianna. Everyone knows if they tell you to do something, you’re going to do the opposite, or you really want to do it. There’s no stopping your madness.”
My nerves are getting the best of me now. I burst out laughing to hide it. “Now I’m mad? Are we friends or enemies pretending to be friends?”
He stares at me stone-faced. “Come to think of it, I don’t know. You didn’t even invite me to your wedding.”
“I lost my phone in the accident. How was I supposed to know I had a best friend from Paris named Trent?”
“Our parents are friends. They should’ve told you.”
Unease settles in my chest.
Why wouldn’t my family tell me about my friends I had before I lost my memory? Why don’t they talk about any of my past with me? Do they think I’m too fragile to deal with it?
Jaxon joins us. “What’s wrong, Livianna?”
“Nothing.” The aching hole in my heart starts to grow. “Trent’s talking about our history, and I just realized I have so much I need to remember. I guess being here is showing me how differently I lived when I was here.”
The two men I supposed had a threesome with pop into my head. My insides heat and my nipples steeple.
Jesus, now I’m getting turned on just by a thought. Think fashion, girl. That’s all you have to do tonight.
After this week is over, I can dedicate some time to getting this part of my life back on track. As I ruminate on this revelation, Jaxon shows us to our table. There’s a silent auction underway, so people are wandering around the event.
Trent uses that to excuse himself. Although I keep an eye on him. It looks more like he’s networking than making bids on designer clothes and artwork that cost more than my house.
Jaxon sits to the left of me. “They’ll have a quick opening speech and then they’ll show the promotional video. Other than that, you’re free to mingle.”
“I thought they were having speakers.”
“They are, but that will be after cocktail hour, during or after dinner.” He glances around the room. “I’m not sure how they have it set up this year, but that’s usually how it goes.”
“Should we just sit here and wait?”
“It looks like they’re getting ready to start.” He tips his chin toward the front.
The emcee opens the ceremony and directs everyone to the screen. As the promo plays, my vision blurs. The picture goes out of focus.
I blink hard. When I open my eyes, Mayhem is front and center. It’s New Year’s Eve, and they just got done performing. Words scroll across the bottom of the video. Callum announces the new album. Dead Lilies.
A searing hot spear drives into my heart. I sit back and glance at Jaxon. Reality blurs.
He catches my gaze. “What?”
“You were there.” I wave my hand toward the screen, fighting back tears. “You’ve been by my side, even back then.”
“When?”
“The night Callum killed me off to the world and broke me in half.” I take a stabilizing breath. “I remember sitting next to you. It was New Year’s Eve, and he announced their new album. We watched it together.”
Jaxon’s eyes scroll over my face. “How did he kill you off?”
“They named the album Dead Lilies.” My throat closes around the words.
“I’m not following.”
“Callum’s nickname for me is Lily.”
It takes Jaxon two seconds to realize what I’m talking about.
He sits back, keeping his gaze on me. “That’s why you got up and left that night.”
I nod, unable to speak. My eyes sting, and my insides well up. The pain is almost too much to bear.
I swallow and hold my head high. “If you’ll excuse me…”
I grab my clutch and find the nearest exit while dabbing my eyes dry. I can’t believe how hurtful Callum was. He knew that name would do maximum damage.
“Livianna.” Jaxon’s voice travels behind me.
My step falters, and I turn to him. “I’m sorry, Jax. I can’t stay here.”
He reaches my side. “You have every right to be hurt, but that was years ago.”
“But that album exists for all time. It won’t go away.” I take a pause, biting down on my lower lip.
This is why Callum asked me not to go digging into Mayhem’s past albums. He knew I would find out how cruel he was to me back then.
I lower my head. “He knew that would be with me forever. Why would he want to cause me that much misery?”
Jaxon’s gaze softens, along with his entire stance. “You know what they say. People lash out at the ones they love and trust the most.”