CRUEL DESIRE (Cruel #5)

2. English

2

English

I couldn’t get what had almost happened out of my mind.

Court Kensington was objectively the worst client I’d ever had. Not because he was particularly difficult to work with or because he was a drug addict or a s*x fiend or any number of other impossible things I’d dealt with. It was because he didn’t want me. He didn’t feel like he needed a publicist. That I just got in his way.

And even though, over the last couple weeks, he had started to listen to my advice, he still didn’t want my help. Everyone else came to me. They needed someone to cover up a s*x scandal. They needed me to hide an affair from their wife. They wanted someone who could get their career back on track after the stint in rehab. On and on and on.

Court wanted nothing to do with it.

He was the worst, and he made my job hell.

Still, I’d been an inch away from kissing him.

And I didn’t even like him. Or want to kiss him.

I sighed as I parked my Mercedes in front of my dad’s house in the Valley. I knew why I was obsessed over this. It was easier to think about a stupid almost-kiss with Court than it was to deal with Josh. Or the fact that he was still in London, shooting the final Bourne movie with his costar Celeste. Or that I’d just cleared out my belongings from his house and had them shipped back to New York. Or that I was going to have to file divorce papers.

End the perfect marriage.

I closed my eyes and choked back that thought. I didn’t want to divorce Josh. I’d thought we were forever. But I wasn’t a pushover. I wouldn’t be used. And there was no f*****g way that I would ever forgive what he’d done to me.

I still didn’t want to do it.

Nor did I want to walk inside and face my dad, stepmom, and half-sister, Taylor. But I couldn’t come back to the city and not see them. So…here I was.

Swallowing my frustration, I pushed my shoulders back and stepped out of the car. It looked so out of place out here. I looked out of place.

My dad worked a camera for a local news network. He made okay money, but Ashley didn’t work, except to sell some direct sales products. It changed every time I was here. Last time, it had been something to do with her nails; the time before that, she’d had a collection of super-soft clothes. And I was pretty sure she’d done a bender on essential oils. She meant well, but I didn’t think she’d had any real success with it.

I stepped up to the front door and knocked. I impatiently checked my phone, tapping my high-heeled foot like a bad habit, and brushed a speck of dust off of my white jeans. Why the hell had I worn them here?

When I’d gone to the house I’d shared with Josh the last three years, I’d torn everything else out of my closet, except this outfit. I’d hired a company to pack up and ship everything that remotely belonged to me. Every scrap of me would be gone from Josh’s house by the time he returned from London.

Now that I was here, I should have just gone with shorts and sneakers. I was used to dressing up for my job, and I planned to head to the agency after this. But it still felt wrong.

The door opened. Ashley stood there with her platinum hair in a messy bun on her head and a wide smile on her face. “Anna!”

“Hey, Ash,” I said to my stepmom.

I knew that she liked me to call her mom, but I’d never been comfortable with that.

She stepped back to let me in. “Joe! Anna’s here.”

I followed her inside. My insides squirmed as I looked around the house I had spent high school in. The same couch and picture frames and shaggy beige carpet. No one in Hollywood would guess that I was a girl from the Valley.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Ashley said. “Look at those shoes! I’d break my neck in those.”

I laughed. “You get used to them.”

“If you say so.”

Ashley was really great, except that she was my stepmom.

My dad appeared then in a ratty Dodgers baseball shirt and the same shorts he’d had since I was a kid. He half-smiled at me. As much enthusiasm as I ever got from him.

“Hey, Bug,” he said. “What brings you all the way out here?”

I reminded myself not to grit my teeth. He didn’t mean to sound accusatory every time I came to visit. “I was in town. Thought that I’d come see you all before I headed back to New York.”

“Oh, right. Don’t know how you can survive that city.”

“You’ve never even been,” I said with a small laugh.

He shrugged. “Don’t have to go to know LA is the only place I ever want to live.”

“Can I get you a drink?” Ashley asked, breaking up the conversation.

“Sure. Whatever you have is fine.”

“Margaritas it is!”

My dad sighed. “She’s driving. Just get her a Coke.”

“A Coke is fine,” I confirmed with a defeated Ashley.

She slipped out of the living room, leaving us alone. We stood in silence for a few minutes. Things had never been the same between us. Not since the divorce. Even before that. I never forgot the person he’d been. And then he’d gone and married someone else. It didn’t matter that I liked Ashley. He’d replaced my mom and then gone and replaced me.

“Taylor’s at the beach with some friends,” he said as if reading my thoughts.

“Sounds fun,” I mused.

“She’s not having the kind of fun you did.”

I swallowed back my rising anger that said I didn’t need this s**t after the week I’d had. “Can’t all be that lucky, I guess.”

“We’re moving her out to New York in a few weeks,” he said on a sigh. “Can’t believe she got into that fancy art school up there. Nothing I said could convince her to stay in LA and be smart about it.”

I’d almost forgotten that Taylor had gotten into The New School. That she was actually going was even more shocking. That my dad, who had ridiculed me for going to UCLA and getting what he considered a useless film degree, would let her go. I had no idea how they were going to afford it. The school alone had to be fifty thousand dollars a year. Not to mention paying to live in New York City.

“That’s…wow,” I stammered out.

“Will you look out for her?”

My eyes rounded. “What?”

“You know…you have that job. Where you do…whatever you do,” he said evasively, not meeting my eye.

“I’m a publicist.”

“Yeah, that. You keep people out of trouble. Taylor isn’t used to the big city.”

“She grew up in LA, Dad. She’s going to be fine.”

“LA and New York are different.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. The last thing she’ll want is me interfering in her life.”

Because Taylor didn’t get me. She didn’t want to.

“Just promise to check in on her every once in a while. I’ll feel better about her being out there.”

I shrugged. “Fine.”

“Here you go,” Ashley said, appearing then with a Coke for me and my dad. “I heard you talking about Taylor. It’ll be so good, knowing that you’re close by.”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

“When do you move back?” Ashley asked.

“Um…actually, I’m not sure. That was…part of why I was here,” I said, taking a sip to clear the cotton in my throat. “Josh and I are getting a divorce.”

Ashley’s jaw dropped open. “What? Why?”

My dad just stared at me. As if…he’d guessed all along that it would come to this.

I stared right back at him. “I found out that he was sleeping with someone else. And I don’t suffer cheaters.”

He had the decency to wince slightly at the words.

“How awful!” Ashley said. She pulled me into a hug and dragged me over to the couch. “I am so sorry. Tell me everything. You must be a mess.”

The last thing I wanted to do was powwow with anyone about the demise of my relationship. But Ashley was sincere, and she wouldn’t tell anyone. So, I divested myself of the information. Let her coo over me like the mom I’d always wanted. Then after I drained my Coke, I made my excuses and got the hell out of there.

My breaths came out unevenly when I was behind the wheel. This time had been worse. So much worse. My dad was exactly the same, and no one saw it but me. Worse yet, Taylor would be in New York. I was not looking forward to having my recently graduated baby sister in the city. Or the promise I’d made to look after her.

An hour and a half later, after driving through f*****g horrendous traffic, I parked in front of Poise PR. I’d signed up with Poise the minute I graduated from law school at Columbia. When I’d gotten my film degree, I’d thought that I wanted to be a director. But then quickly realized that held no sway with me and decided I’d get a JD and become a film agent. After interning with a very well-known agency the two summers of law school, I realized that wasn’t what I was interested in either.

Then one of my friends from film school, Lanie, landed a lead role in a small movie. She came to me, sobbing, because they were pushing her around. I went in with all the overconfidence and bluster I could muster and got everything she wanted and more. Lanie was my first client. And I’d brought her with me to Poise when I decided being a publicist was as natural as breathing.

She was probably going to kill me if she found out I was in LA and didn’t see her.

But the City of Angels felt like it was stocked full of demons tonight. And I wanted out as soon as possible.

I beelined for my office. I wanted to grab a few things before I saw my boss, Margery. She had started as a receptionist at another well-known agency, worked her way up to partner, and then left to start her own agency. She had been working in the industry for thirty years and was a bit terrifying.

“Knock, knock,” a voice said, stepping into my office.

“Winnie,” I crooned. “You look as amazing as ever.”

And she did.

Winnie was my closest friend in the agency. She was taller than me with perfect black locks and light-brown skin. She’d grown up in London; she was of Indian descent and had the most incredible accent. She was also a total basket case, cutthroat, and did whatever it took to get ahead.

She reached forward and grasped my hands. “f**k yes. Look at you, English. Please tell me you’re back. Already, that city has sucked the life right out of you.”

“I’m just pale,” I said with a laugh. “Life has not been sucked out of me. I have a meeting with Margery.”

“About coming back?”

“No. I still intend to stay through November.”

“Aren’t you bored with just one client?”

“If you met Court Kensington, you’d know that boy can keep you busy.”

Winnie winked. “Tell me all about it.”

I frowned. “Not like that.”

“Oh right, the rules,” Winnie said with an eye roll. “I think everyone should bone at least one client. Knocks your superiority down a peg.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” I said, playfully nudging her.

This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation. It likely wouldn’t be the last either.

Because I wasn’t interested in Court. We’d just almost kissed. But we hadn’t. And it wasn’t ever going to happen. Never, ever.

“Okay, on to Margery I go.”

“Is this about the pictures?” Winnie asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “What pictures?”

Winnie frowned. “Oh god. Tell me you’ve checked your phone today. That you saw TMZ.”

“I…I haven’t. I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

TMZ was publicist gold. The goal, of course, was to make sure nothing showed up there that you hadn’t sold to them on purpose. But sometimes, things slipped through the cracks.

I pulled up the tabloid, and Winnie leaned forward to look over my shoulder.

A gasp escaped my lips. “No.”

It was Josh and Celeste. Naked. In bed.

“f**k!”