“Are you hungry?” she asks me, and I shake my head. “You have to eat something,” she says, putting her arm around me and bringing me to the huge ass kitchen. “Sit down and I’ll make you something.”
“Baby.” I hear the big man from the side speak now. “No more cooking for you.”
“Don’t call me that.” She points at him. “And it was a little fire.”
“You almost burned down the house.” He laughs, crossing his arms over his head. “No. If your friend wants food, I’ll go get her something.”
“Yes,” Kellie says. “Some Chick-fil-A.”
He then turns to me, and I take in his jeans and black shirt. “Jessica, I’m Brian.” I nod at him. “What would you like to eat?”
“She wants Chick-fil-A,” Kellie says. “And stop and get a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. We are mending broken hearts here.”
“Your heart is fine.” He grabs the car keys and wallet off the counter and then walks over to her and bends down. “Lips.” One word and she leans up, smiles, and kisses him. I watch him walk out of the house, the door slamming behind him.
“I take it he finally fell for your charm.” I smile, happy for her.
“I really hope so, or I did anal for nothing,” she says, and for once, I laugh. “Don’t tell him I said that. He’s kind of private.” She comes to the table with a water bottle and hands it to me.
“I promise I will not bring up that you did anal with your boyfriend.” Taking a long sip of water, I ask, “How bad are the headlines?”
She looks down at the table and then grabs her phone and comes back. “It’s not as bad as it can be,” she says, and we both know it could be so much worse. “Now just remember half these stories aren’t true.”
“Yeah, just like half the stories I report aren’t true, right?” I point out as I open it and scroll through the headlines.
His plan all along to wine, dine, bed, and leave.
Tyler was playing his best role yet in order to keep her from spilling his darkest secrets.
He’s been planning this since she came out with his cheating scandal.
Sleeping with the Enemy.
Then I see one from Autumn, and it hurts she would run a story on it until I see the title.
Tyler Beckett’s phone hacked, revealing private and intimate photos.
I put the phone back down, not even scrolling to read the stories. “I have to type my letter of resignation.”
Kellie laughs. “How about you’re a fucking whore, I quit.” Then she throws up her hand. “I mean, you’re the writer.”
“I can’t believe Stephanie let her run that story, and that Brooke ran it.” I shake my head. “I loaned her my deodorant, for fuck’s sake.” I rub my face with my hands and sigh. “And what about my clothes.”
“In your room,” she says, and I look up at her. “The minute you called me from the cab, I made two phone calls, actually three. One was to the hotel you were staying at. Housekeeping took your bag and packed it up. They sent it to Mario, who is the second call I made. My doorman.” I nod at her. “And the third was the plane.”
“Thank you,” I whisper to her, the tears now flowing again. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I know without a shadow of a doubt that if it were me, you would have done the same thing,” she says, and I nod at her.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to go to bed. How about we eat the ice cream for breakfast?” I tell her as I get up and give her a hug, and then make my way back to the room. Opening the door, I walk over to the side table and turn on the light. Seeing my luggage in the corner of the room, I put the luggage on the floor and unzip it. The black dress falls out, and I pick it up and bring it to my nose. I smell him on it, from when he took me in his arms and hugged me on the elevator on the way back to his room. I put it aside and grab my pajamas. Peeling myself out of my clothes, I toss them on the floor and climb into bed. I know my phone is no doubt a mess, but I don’t bother with it. Instead, I turn off the light, curl up into a ball, and cry myself back to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Tyler
Tyler’s new lady love is in hiding and has now been fired!
When Jessica walked out of the room or, better yet, told me to never touch her again, I thought my legs would give out. I was stuck, my feet not working, and the only thing I could see was the sheer horror on her face. I called her repeatedly, but she never picked up. Everything after is a blur; we canceled the press tour portion, but the red carpet still went on. As they say in Hollywood, the show must go on, and fucking on it went. I got on the plane and didn’t speak to anyone, just going into the back room. I waited for everyone to get off the plane, and then I walked out. The paparazzi were all there at the gate with their flashes going off as I walked off the plane in LA.