Chapter 8
Marina
“Get in, movie star!”
The tires had barely stopped screeching when an unfamiliar car came to a stop in front of me.
Normally, I’d run in the opposite direction for safety, but fortunately, I knew the voice.
Poppy Stanfield. Prom queen to my homecoming crown.
Blond to my brunette. Voted most likely . . . that’s all, just “Most Likely.”
And she hasn’t changed a bit. I love that about her.
Bending down, I peer into the car and am greeted with my best friend’s smile.
“I thought you were trying to kidnap me, Pop.”
“I am. Get in, and let’s go.” She waggles her sunglasses on her head. “Though I’m only taking you to the apartment.” Looking every bit the troublemaker with a wicked smile, she asks, “Unless you want to go on a spontaneous road trip? I’m all for that.”
“Love to, but I have filming tomorrow. It’s the only reason I’m back.”
She pops the trunk. “You standing around here all day, or are we getting you out of here?”
“Sounds like you’re breaking me free from the penitentiary.” I drag my suitcase to the back and load it into the trunk. When I slam the trunk closed, I hear my name being called in the distance. I jump into the car and say, “We’ve been spotted.”
“It’s so kind how you include me in the chaos of the paparazzi when we both know they don’t care about me one bit.” She’s pulling away from the curb faster than is legal in an airport zone. I look back and laugh. “I’ll always come to the rescue like Thelma and Louise.”
“Can we skip that ending, though? That was brutal.”
“Yeah, no cliff diving for us. So . . .” She glances over at me. “Apparently, we have lots to discuss.”
In an act of desperation, or maybe it was despair at that moment, I sent her a simple text:
Corbin’s been cheating. I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m stuck in a bathroom in Miami. I’ll be back in Vancouver tomorrow. Chat then.
Okay, maybe not that simple since it contained the facts of everything going on in my life, but if it got her here in my hour of need, I’m not complaining. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I contacted Lauren, and she gave me your flight details.”
“How are you here? You have a job in Seattle.”
“I did, but that guy was an asshole, and I was tired of putting up with his freaky requests.”
“What was the line?”
“He told me to get fresh lionfish with a dollop of Indian red chili made with buttermilk and served over grits.” She’s shaking her head as if she’s offended all over again.
“That’s not a thing and shouldn’t be. The flavors alone would be bonkers.
I’m all for fusion, but it can’t just be adventurous.
It needs to make sense on the palate.” She flails a hand between us.
“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cross that line into Bonkersville.
So I’m currently looking for a new job.”
“I’m sorry, Poppy. He was awful to you from the beginning.” Realizing she used the opportunity to come see me makes me lean over and hug her shoulder. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
“I want to be here, so don’t worry about it.
Lesson learned. There was a reason he couldn’t keep a chef.
That was a year of hell I don’t intend to repeat.
” She laughs, clearly doing fine after leaving her private chef gig.
Glancing my way again, she has one hand on the steering wheel and the other anchoring her sunglasses on her head.
“But let’s talk about you, Ms. Westcott. ”
“I’d rather not.”
“Yeah, you’re not getting off that easy.”
I laugh lightly, leaning my head back as I watch the world go by. “I haven’t been getting off at all. Guess that’s why Corbin was cheating.”
“Corbin was cheating because Corbin is a cheater. It has nothing to do with you. Doesn’t matter if you were having sex with him or not. Just be glad you weren’t now that you know the truth.”
I roll my head to the side, bringing my feet up on the seat and wrapping my arms around my knees. “You’re right. Guess that’s why I’m not upset. Upset enough, I suppose.”
Reaching over, she rubs my forearm. “It’s only a blow, Mar, because you were blindsided by the news.”
“You never did like him.”
“I liked him fine. I just didn’t love him for you.”
Somehow, this doesn’t make me feel better. Go figure. “Why is that again?”
She shrugs. “He puts off . . . he just puts off.”
“It’s called arrogance.”
Tapping the tip of her nose, she says, “Ding. Ding. Ding.” Sitting forward, she squints at the signs ahead before relaxing back again. “Twenty minutes to the apartment.”
“Thanks for picking me up.”
A wide smile spreads across her face. She’s always been beyond gorgeous, but when she smiles, the whole world takes notice. “I’m glad I could be here. You still have that spare room, right?”
“I do.” She’s visited me a few times, but it will be nice not to be alone in the aftermath of the fallout from Corbin.
“Why’d you go to Miami again?”
Shifting my purse back to my lap, I dig through it, looking for lip gloss. I want to be ready just in case cameras are aimed at me when we arrive at the apartment complex. “Just a quick weekend in Miami to watch the qualifying race.”
“I’m sorry. Let me be clearer. Who were you doing this weekend?”
I balk, but then it trickles off, and my cheeks heat, remembering how good Cash looked last night. His hard abs. That strong jawline. He listened when he didn’t owe me a thing, much less any of his time. How he held my hand and me so close in protection from the paparazzi.
Slinking in my seat, I rest back, staring out the window. “You know I’m not doing anyone.”
Gripping the steering wheel, she seems to have something on her mind. Poppy has never been good about keeping her feelings hidden. I suspect she won’t now either. I just have to help open that door for her. I ask, “What is it?”
“You know I’m a vault when it comes to you. I would never share or sell any secrets.”
“I know.” I nod, truly knowing I can trust her like my own family. After being best friends since we were little, she’s family. “I’d tell you if something was going on.” I scrape the gloss wand across my lips and look at her again. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more going on here?”
“Your flight was early, right?”
Running my fingers along the hem of the shirt, I reply, “I barely arrived in time to board at six thirty. I got there right before the doors closed.”
I look down at the tee I stole from Cash, grinning like I got away scot-free from a bank robbery.
Wonder if he woke up smiling like I did.
Hope so since it’s race day. “Though it’s nothing big, I did .
. .” I stop speaking when I lay my eyes on her.
Her knuckles whitening, her eyes fixed forward, and a weird vibe fills the car. “What’s going on, Poppy?”
“You’ve missed the news this morning.” She glances at me and then back at the road again.
I push up to right myself and take a deep breath. My stomach twists in knots from the thought of my private life becoming gossip. “Did the story about Corbin come out?”
“Um. No.” She cringes and hands me her phone. “I know you don’t have social media for all the right reasons, but you need to get online.”
Taking the phone, I’m nervous about seeing what I’ll find. “I had all my notifications like Google Alerts off as well. What is it? Just tell me.”
“Open my phone.”
“I don’t think I want to,” I joke, but my laugh is riddled with nerves. I do it because, good or bad, we face our demons.
Even though it’s only been seconds ago, entering her code is the last moment of peace that I’ll have.
“‘Beauty and the Bad Boy?’” My eyes flick to the next article on the screen. “‘Bad Boy Image Gets Makeover by New Love Affair.’ I don’t understand. What is this?” I ask, scrambling as I scroll to the next article. My gut knows. This is a nightmare in the making.
And then I see the photo . . .
I cover my mouth to keep my jaw from dropping. Everything captured in that bright light moment in time makes Cash and me look like a couple. “Oh no,” I say, unsure what else I can.
“How are we feeling? Happy? Devastated? Caught in a news cycle?”
I can’t stop staring at the two of us together, looking like I never did with Corbin. “It’s nothing. I swear.” I glance up at her. “I would have told you.”
“You didn’t have a chance since it happened last night, or did I read two o’clock?”
I want to laugh, to tell her all the good things about last night, but I know what these stories mean. Our lives are about to be turned upside down.
“We didn’t have sex,” I blurt like someone who’s most definitely guilty. “I don’t need to defend myself.”
“No,” she says, “not to me or anyone.”
“Then why do I feel sick to my stomach?” I wrap my arms around my middle, wanting to curl inside myself and disappear.
My eyes begin to water as reality sinks in.
“I’ve made it so much worse for myself.” Dropping my head into my hand, I squeeze my eyes closed.
“And for Cash.” All the good we shared is gone in the daylight.
While I was flying, oblivious to the gossip splashed all over the internet, he’s been dealing with this directly.
I jerk up and look at Poppy. “He’s going to hate me. More than he does already.”
“He hates you? Why would he hate you?”
“I dragged him into this mess when he should be concentrating on the race today.”
“Is this the club you were at when you texted me?”
“One and the same. I called him to save me.” She’s polite enough not to verbally judge me, but her eyebrows shoot up, and eyes stare ahead like she’s in disbelief. As if it will make it any better, I add, “I had a few drinks and calling him seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Her mouth straggles down at the ends. “Um. All right . . . Well, since we can’t turn back time and make a better decision, how can I fix this? Lauren?”
“Lauren’s going to kill me. I’m shocked I haven’t heard from her yet.”
I pull my busted phone from my bag and turn it back on. Twenty-two texts and fourteen missed calls. “Yikes.”
“Nothing is unfixable.”
I glance over at her, and trepidation fills me as I pull up my contacts list. “I should call him.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” I reply, already calling. “I’m not sure, but I—”
“Hel—” His voice cuts out, replaced by silence, so I pull the phone from my ear to stare at the screen.
“Cash? Can you hear me?” I put it to my ear again, but the line only crackles, and then the screen goes out.
“Cash?” I scramble to push buttons, but nothing brings my phone back to life. “Dammit!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My phone died.”
She grabs her phone from the charger. “You can use my charger.”
“No, it’s the phone. It’s broken.”
“How’d you break your phone?”
Some of the emotions I felt when Cash knocked it from my hand awaken. “Long story.” I rub my temple in an attempt to soothe the rising panic taking over.
“It’s going to be okay, just use mine.” She must sense my anxiety because she reaches over again to pat my shoulder. “Call him back. Do you know his number?”
Shaking my head, I lean back on the headrest. I close my eyes, wanting to wake up to a new narrative. I can’t wish it away, though. This is my reality. And now I’ve dragged Cash into it. “I don’t have his number. I don’t have anyone’s number. That was my phone’s job.”
“Yeah, I get it.”
We ride in silence for a few minutes as a million things run through my mind, everything from what Corbin is going to say to me, how he’s going to spin this to his advantage, and how mad Lauren’s going to be .
. . is already. She knows every story before it breaks publicly.
I’m surprised I didn’t have a barrage of messages from her this morning.
Maybe she’s too busy trying to clean up this mess before dealing with me.
I finally say, “I’ve really made a mess of things, Pop.”
“Nothing that everyone won’t forget when the next story breaks.” I appreciate how calm her voice is, and in the confines of the car, maybe my world won’t come crashing down. “You know how this stuff works.”
“I do, but I’m not usually the one in the middle of the storm.”
“This storm will pass.” A comforting smile engages her face. “But since we’re in the middle of it . . . You and Cash Ryatt, huh?” She fans herself with her hand. “How hot was that?”
I laugh, just a little at first, but the release feels so good that I stop holding so tight to being upset. “He’s so frustrating, borders on rude, can be offensive—”
“Gorgeous—”
“Absurdly attractive.” I peek over at her.
When her grin splits her lips apart and she laughs, I continue.
“Big, making me feel small in stature but not little in presence. He listens.” My gaze drops to my lap.
My fingers fidget with the hem of my shirt again as I remember the myriad of emotions he evoked.
“So how was the sex again?”
I burst out laughing again. We’ve known each other our entire lives, and there’s a reason we’re best friends. Poppy Stanfield never disappoints. “I swear, we did not have sex.”
“Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure, Pop.”
“I feel disappointed.” She looks at me quickly. “How did you not throw yourself at him? You must have the willpower of a saint.”
Memories of last night hit me.
Kissing him.
Groping his shoulders, ready to mount that man.
But when he placed that kiss on my shoulder and then wrapped his arm around me, holding me against him in bed, I’ve never felt safer or more cherished in my life. It doesn’t make sense. He barely knows me. He barely likes me. If he likes me.
Doesn’t matter.
I know he hates me now.