Page 54 of Living Hell

“I fell.”

She rolled her eyes before she sauntered back to my chair. “Don’t they all. Listen, the press is having the time of their lives making my client look like an abusive harpy.”

Since I canceled the newspaper subscription two weeks ago when I realized that some of the front-page stories involved me, I had no idea what the paparazzi was saying about us.

I threw my hands up. “What do you want from me? I am in this fake scheme of yours so I can get my house back. I have been doing everything right. Every morning Iona gives me a sweet kiss on the front porch before I go to work. We are the perfect picture of a loving couple.” One that doesn’t speak to each other.

“The paps aren’t dumb. They know you stage that, but the bruises don’t lie.”

“You know what’s dumb? This fake relationship. Maybe this house isn’t worth all the chaos it’s causing. So what if I’m out the fifty grand I put down on the house. It’s not like I haven’t been poor before, I’ll survive.”

I was tired of living a lie. It was hell knowing the woman I went to bed with every night didn’t want to be with me. She’d rather be surrounded by cameras and Botox-filled heads and people who cared more about fame than love.

And all I wanted was her.

“I get it, but even if I.D.—”

“For fuck’s sake, Babette, her name is Iona. She’s not an image on a screen, she’s an actual human being with a name her mother lovingly gave her.”

This superficiality ended at my door. It would not be allowed in my office.

She was silent for a moment, her eyes scanning the room in search of something. Her usual cool bravado took a hit, and it was about damn time.

“You’re right. Iona is not just my client, she’s a friend. I do care about her. Maybe I’m not that good at showing it, but I do. I had hoped her time here would help her see that there are people who care about her. It was a silly idea my masseuse, Magic Mike, gave me.”

She gave me a weak smile and I relaxed, slipping into the chair across from my desk.

“Magic Mike?”

“Everyone has an indulgence. Mine is being massaged by young hot men.” My face grew warm at her admission. “But this new one reminded me that I.D., uh, I mean, Iona was more than a client. He said the way I spoke about her was like a mother gushing about her daughter. He suggested the comeback story and maybe she should go back to her hometown. He suggested a few other ideas like the fake engagement to an old flame. Iona never actually gave me that idea.”

“How did he know about me?”

“I had mentioned your name because I knew about you already. As her manager, I have to know everything, good and bad, about her past.”

I was guessing I was the bad part.

“I thought he was sucking up to me when he offered me this advice. I do have a lot of sway in Hollywood. Now, I’m thinking it’s something else,” she mumbled the last part.

“What, something else?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m dealing with it.” She gave a stiff smile. “The point is that I realized Iona is like family. I want to see her happy, and maybe I went too far but I do think you’re a good man. She deserves someone good in her life.”

“I do care about her. The problem is, this is fake.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and wondered why I was telling the person who could destroy me with one word, my true feelings for Iona. “At least, that’s how she sees it. I don’t. Iona’s counting down the days until she can hop on a plane and head back to the West Coast again.”

“And you? You said you wanted all this to end. When she leaves, she takes the paparazzi with her. Your life will go back to normal and you will have the home of your dreams.”

I felt like I was being tested from the way Babette stared at me. As if she knew the answer and I would either pass or fail in her eyes, depending on what I said next.

I didn’t care what she thought. She could take my house and leave me with nothing, and it wouldn’t hurt as bad as Iona waving goodbye.

“I’m dreading the day she leaves, again.”

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