“I wish I could.” Alaric could feel the rest of the reporters closing in, their microphones held at the ready. “But until then, just let me set the record straight.”
He swiveled his head to make eye contact with every person holding a microphone. If he could do anything for Georgia, it was this.
“None of you have an idea of what a wonderful, down-to-Earth woman Georgia Weber really is. I’ve known her since high school. She’s the quiet girl who sits with the music nerds at lunch and dreams up lyrics to songs. The girl who doesn’t know how smart or beautiful she really is. She’s not a fickle woman. She’s everything she claims to be: honest, kind, and devoted to her fans. She wouldn’t harm a fly. And she didn’t deserve to be hurt by the likes of Vance.” He gulped, feeling his bravado fade. “Or, by the likes of me. I was upset when I said those things you printed. They weren’t true. I never should’ve assumed the worst of Georgia. And I never should’ve hurt her like that.”
An unnatural silence fell on the crowd of reporters in his face. He glared at them all, willing them to speak up and tread on Georgia’s good name again. He’d go down fighting for that woman. They needed to see that.
“Are you saying that you still have feelings for Gigi Weber?” the woman in black asked, once again holding up her microphone under his nose.
Alaric sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. They’d never understand.
“I will always hold a spot in my heart for Georgia,” he said in a defeated tone, shaking his head at her. “She has changed me in ways I didn’t even know possible. She’s taught me to trust again. And for that, I will forever be grateful. I only hope that someday she can forgive me.”
And with that parting line, he hopped into his town car and slammed the door behind him. The reporters clamored at his window, but he avoided their eye contact and stared out the opposite side. He had hoped that he would feel better after that brief interview, but if anything, he felt worse. It was just beginning to sink in what he had lost.
His fingers missed the warmth of her hand in his and the soft sound of her breath as she slept pressed against him. His ears ached to hear her soothing voice. He wished he could make her smile one last time and relish in the way her soft lips curled higher on her right side and her emerald eyes grew brighter.
How could one night have changed everything? He’d gone from the luckiest man in the world to the lowest of the low. It was as if someone had shown him a glimpse of heaven before tossing him into the fiery pits. He ached to return to only a few hours ago, when everything was as it should be.
The driver took off, pausing at the next street light before turning off onto a busy street. Alaric didn’t dare glimpse back at the fading sight of the hotel or the reporters still clamoring for a sight of Gigi Weber.
He couldn’t handle this goodbye.
Chapter Sixteen
Georgia ran a hand over the smart black suit Sally had picked out for her that morning, trying not to fidget in the stiff fabric or shoulder pads. It was go time. Her publicist stood next to her in a near-identical tan colored suit with a pencil skirt and tan hosiery. The Linex Investments elevator they waited in dinged to show they’d arrived at the floor where Georgia would have to get down on her hands and knees to beg Spark not to drop her.
It had been only twenty-four hours since the tabloids released the devastating story about her and Alaric and already Georgia could feel their effects. She’d been a headline topic on every entertainment news channel. People were dragging her name through the muck on Internet comment boards. Someone had even sent an anonymous bouquet of dead roses to her hotel room that threw her security up in arms. It was all too much.
And then there was Alaric. He’d haunted her dreams last night. His fingers trailing along her cheek, his charming smile as he looked deep into her eyes. It was as if her brain refused to acknowledge that he was as bad for her as Vance had been. She couldn’t trust her own head, nor the sinking feeling of loss in her stomach.
“Are you listening to me?”
The snapping of Sally’s fingers inches from her nose made Georgia flinch. She shook her head and gave her publicist a wide-eyed look.
“You need to get this deal back,” Sally continued, her face wrinkling with disdain. “Grovel, beg. Do whatever you have to. But I’m not leaving Linex Investments without this deal written in stone. Got me?”
Georgia trapped a sigh behind her lips and tried not to squirm under Sally’s glare. She’d spent an entire plane ride across the United States with her publicist in her ear, lecturing her on exactly what she needed to accomplish this morning. She’d probably started tuning her out about ten hours ago.
With a final exasperated sigh, Sally led them down a hallway that looked freshly painted and lined with plush, new carpet. At the end was a large boardroom with miniature basketball hoops attached to the wall on opposite sides. Loud music coming from a few of the closed office doors vibrated the walls with their eclectic beats. They made Georgia ache to feel the neck of her guitar under her fingers, her hands forming the chords. Music was her therapy and if she ever needed some couch time, it was now.
“Ladies!” A gorgeous woman with curly blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes bounded toward them from the opposite end of the hall in a pale blue blouse and white skirt. She stopped just short of Georgia and looked her over from head to foot with a warm smile. “Ah, the famous Gigi Weber. You’re even more beautiful in person. I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally meet you.”
Georgia blushed and laughed softly, biting the inside of her cheek. This certainly wasn’t the greeting she’d been anticipating. “You’re too kind. This is my publicist, Sally Williams.”
“Nice to meet you.” The woman shook both of their hands warmly. “I’m Emily.”
Sally tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “I thought we were meeting with Kevin Smith himself this morning.”
Emily shook her head. “Smithy is out at the moment, but I assure you that you are in good hands.”
Georgia cringed when she heard Sally mutter a dissatisfied reply under her breath, but Emily didn’t seem to hear. She led them down to a corner office with a wide panoramic view of the city through its expansive windows. A glass desk stood in the middle with a high-backed white leather chair and two client chairs made of similar leather. In the corner sat a comfy wing-backed chair and a silver throw rug.
“Have a seat,” Emily said, pointing to the client chairs. “Want anything to drink?”
Georgia was just about to politely turn down the offer when Sally gasped and snatched a framed photo from the top of Emily’s desk.
“Is this Michael Knight in this picture?” Her eyes boggled.