Accidental Meeting (Accidental Hook-Up 3)

“My friend?” I exclaim, finding my voice. “You stole my picture and used it against me. You used it against Shane and his family and you don’t even know them. I don’t understand why you did that.”

“Oh you don’t?” She pulls out her cell phone and I expect her to show me something on it but she keeps it clutched tightly to her chest. Her fingers move rapidly like she’s typing something. “Maybe it’s because I finally found my calling and it isn’t acting like I originally thought.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I’m really freaking confused here. “You’re being weird, Rae.”

Was this person ever my friend? I’m struggling to picture that now. She seems like a stranger, like someone I never really knew. I don’t know why I have missed her so much. It seems pointless now.

“Yeah, I work for the paparazzi now and that suits me way better.”

“The paparazzi?” I repeat like a dumb parrot.

“That’s right, and all my colleagues will be here in a moment. I’m sure they will be really interested in you guys getting back together. The moody indie actress who’s making a name for herself and Lady Saffron’s son. Tell me that isn’t a story.”

My blood runs ice cold. I’m no longer the naïve girl desperate for a connection with anyone, and I can see right through Rae. She’s nasty, manipulative, cold.

Not a friend for me.

“Fuck you,” I growl back. “I cannot believe that you would do that. You are disgusting.”

With that, I turn and I storm off. A string of expletives follow me but I ignore them all. I’m stronger than that. For now, I just need to focus on getting the hell out of here before Shane and I are forced to grace every newspaper again.

Chapter Twenty-Six – Shane

Tia’s eyes are filled with terror as she exits the bathroom. She was acting strange before she went in there which is why I have been watching the door to see her come out again. I race through the crowds to get to her as quickly as possible so I can help her with whatever is going on. She clearly needs me right now.

“We need to get out of here.” She clutches on to my arm, her fingers clawing at me. “Now.”

“Why?” I ask, but I follow her towards the exit. I don’t need to argue with her when she’s clearly so panicked.

“Rae,” she pants out. “She’s here and she works for the press these days.”

Rae is the name of the girl who uploaded the picture online, who spoke to the press about me. She used to be Tia’s friend but clearly that has changed in recent times. I don’t get the urgency though, the need to get away from her. Tia is strong and feisty enough to face her if needs be. Why are we running?

As soon as the cool evening air washes over us, I’m overwhelmed by flashes. Bright flashes that blind me. My arm automatically reaches across my eyes to protect myself. Tia leans into me and hides her face against my chest. I get the impression that I can feel tears running through my top, wetting my skin.

How has this happened? My brain needs to know. Why are they photographing us?

Much as Tia is finding fame, she isn’t an “A” list. She isn’t at the level where she can’t move without the press following her, I don’t think that she would even want that, so what is this about?

“Rae,” she mumbles against my skin, answering my silent question for me. “She did this again.”

“How long have you two been together?” a petite brunette asks while shoving a microphone in my face.

“I… I…” It hits me. It’s me as much as Tia that the press is interested in. I forgot for a moment that I was once the center of the story. The media said what they wanted about me then as the bastard son of Lady Saffron Jones and her criminal lover, and if I’m not careful they will do the same again. It’s time for me to at least attempt to take control of the story. “Tia and I are in love and we always have been.”

She tilts her head up and smiles softly at me, her eyes wet with the tears that I suspected were there. I grin at her too and touch her cheek. The flashes start back up again but I barely pay attention to them now. I have the most beautiful woman in the world in my arms so nothing else matters. Let them take pictures and ask questions, let them write whatever they want about this situation. Who the hell cares when we know the truth?

“How did you cope when she was in Iceland?”

“What do your parents think about this?”

“Have you managed to recover from the betrayal?”