Avoiding Intimacy (Avoiding 2.5)

She would gladly go back to Italy and let him end it if it meant that he would change this.

She didn’t even know that he could do this. How could he blacklist her? What did he have on her that would justify murdering her career before it had even officially begun?

And, Cassandra was somehow going along with it. After offering her the position at the Glam Ball, Cassandra was now…retracting her offer. Was a blacklist so disruptive that even someone who had already made her an offer could recant the statement?

“So…he didn’t tell you,” Cassandra said.

That was pretty f**king clear!

“Did you come to this meeting just to find out if he had?” Chyna asked her desperately, surprised she still could form words.

“To be perfectly honest, I assumed that you would try to talk me out of it. I thought it might be worth a shot to hear you try. I didn’t expect to be the one to break the news to you,” she said plainly.

She was a plain woman. So plain.

Why was she fortunate enough to not be on a blacklist? How did one even get on there?

Chyna was pissed. She had given up so much to go, wanting to find her piece of greatness. And, she still managed to lose it. She lost everything that ever mattered to her.

“Did he say…why?” she asked, clenching her teeth to keep herself together. She was ping-ponging between uncontrollable, fierce anger—the rip- your-throat-out kind—to hyperventilating, soul-crushing depression—with big, fat ugly tears.

“You don’t want to do this,” she told her warningly. “If it were me, I’d let it go and find a new profession. No one in this town or the next is going to hire you.”

“So, he said why,” she muttered, wondering how far he had dragged her name through the dirt to make her unhirable. What did it take?

“He did,” Cassandra confirmed. “But, it might be best if you—”

“What were his reasons?” she snapped, cutting Cassandra off. She could never work for the woman. Who cared what manners looked like when she needed nothing from her? What was she going to do…keep her from a job? Oh, wait… “Breaking-and-entering and theft mainly, but also, you apparently quit the modeling contract two weeks early without a word, causing him to have to rework his entire layout and lose money,”

Cassandra told her flatly. “I don’t know what to think about the first two, but losing money in our business, in any business, will be a good enough reason for most designers. You must have done a real number on him.”

“He’s totally f**ked-up!” she told him.

Of course! It all made sense now. Theft— she had a one-of-a-kind million-dollar dress tucked away in her closet as they spoke right now. Not to mention, she had confiscated the sex tape and modeling pictures from his apartment before departing. And, she had ended her contract early. The breaking-and-entering was just icing on the cake, but everything else he had said was true. He was trying to make her out to be the worst kind of scum.

What was worse…was that it was working.

“So, you’re not going to hire me?”

Chyna asked, just wanting to clarify.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Seriously? Because of one man?”

Chyna scrunched her eyebrows together.

“It’s more than that. You don’t understand how the blacklist works.”

“But, I certainly know that you’re following a wolf in sheep’s clothing,”

Chyna spat at her, furious with Marco for what he had done. “And, you’ll regret it.”

“Why would I regret it?” Cassandra asked plainly.

“Because I’m the best.”

“Every model thinks that.”

Chyna scoffed. “Go back and look at that spread. The only reason he put me on that list is because he can’t have me,”

Chyna said, pushing her chair back, “and he doesn’t want anyone else to either.”

“That may be,” Cassandra conceded.

“But, in your position, I would just be glad that he’s not pressing charges,” she said softly. She actually looked a bit sad.

“And, isn’t that strange? I mean, all things considered,”

Chyna snapped, knowing it was a better defense than denying the charges.

“It is,” Cassandra admitted.

“Right,” she said, popping the t at the end of the word, as she rose from her chair. “I would think about what I said.

You’re the one letting him win.”

Cassandra slowly stood, too. She extended her hand toward Chyna who reluctantly shook it. Chyna was surprised she was even receiving this much hospitality. It wasn’t quite the warm welcome she had received at the Glam Ball.

“I’m sorry about Marco,” Cassandra finally said.

“Don’t be,” Chyna said viciously, trying to pull her hand back.

“I think he was madly in love with you,” she whispered, staring intently into Chyna’s green eyes.

Chyna’s mouth popped open in surprise. She was not expecting that.

“Then, you don’t know the first thing about love.”

Cassandra sighed and shook her head, releasing her hand. “I wish you did.”

She wrenched her hand back from Cassandra. How dare she! What a nosy little bitch! She had no right to presume anything about her or Marco. She certainly had no right to dash her dreams and then shove the stupid L-word down her throat.

How would she even know if Marco loved her? He was a player, and she wanted to be played. When she didn’t want to be played any longer, she left.

There was no added complication and no secret devotion between them. They were just two people who wanted to be f**ked as they tried to get ahead.

Chyna grabbed her purse off the ground, took one last fleeting glance at Cassandra Corsa, and then left the restaurant with her last shred of dignity.

She was barely keeping it together.

By the time she made it out of Barneys, Chyna thought she was going to combust.

Her hands were balled into fists and shaking. Her jaw was set, and she thought she might scream any second. Short angry bursts escaped her mouth, and people passing by glanced at her nervously. She let out a string of expletives, cursing everything under the sun for her existence today. More people stared, but she didn’t care. She was seeing red.

She took a seat on an empty bench and pulled out her phone. Alexa would make it better. She would understand…except Chyna hadn’t told her everything that had happened. They had breezed over the details when she had landed at her door.