No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Two

"I am Scarlett Bardot, Giovanni's publicist."

Her face hardens with hatred, her porcelain skin flushing bright red. "I see. You're the woman blackmailing me with a sex tape."

I stare at her, unfazed. "That would be me, yes. Although I wouldn't call it blackmail. Persuasion is the better word."

She stands, dressed in a tight black dress that is cut way too low and heels so high that no normal human should be able to stand in them. I can't believe she doesn't look tacky in it either. She looks like a model. She pulls off the look incredibly well.

She's more beautiful in person than in photographs, even when she's pissed.

She snarls at me. "You are a horrible human being. Giovanni has had some pretty shitty employees, but you by far top the list."

That makes me scoff. "Well, first of all, I'm not his employee. He is my client. And second of all, I don't think you have any reason to be high and mighty, Lola. You're definitely not a saint."

She points to the kitchen. "There are no goddamn cameras in that kitchen! You want to explain that? I'm pretty sure, unless Giovanni set up a damn camera, that there was no way we were recorded!"

I smile slowly, and she grits her teeth, pointing at me. "Tony and I will do whatever the fuck we want. You have nothing on us."

"You do that, and my company will sue you for everything you own," I threaten frigidly. "Both of you."

"Excuse me?"

"You and your fiancé signed a contract."

"And it's void now! There's no video!"

"You have absolutely no proof we don't have a video. Until you have that proof, the contract you both signed stands. One word against Giovanni, and you will have a lawsuit on your hands. And for the sake of your already sinking career and life savings, I'd suggest you try to act like a decent human being and leave Giovanni the hell alone."

She scoffs. "And you suddenly speak for him now? That man was my fiancé. We loved each other."

"That's how you love?" I ask, knowing I shouldn't. I shake my head. "You sleep with his brother in his own home?"

I'm really ticking her off. She looks like she's about to explode. Suddenly, I watch her face tilt with vengeance.

"You know, you look so different in pictures than real life. It's why I couldn't even recognize you, but you know, I've actually done some research on you too, Ms. Bardot. Had to dig real deep. Turns out you've had quite the life. It's actually pretty fucking terrible. If you weren't such a bitch, I could feel bad for you."

My face falls momentarily from my mask of nonchalance.

Holy shit.

No.

"An abusive, alcoholic father who killed your mother in a car accident. He went to jail, and you were left with no one. Not even your family wanted anything to do with you, so you head to the big city at seventeen where you shack up immediately with another abusive, alcoholic man... no doubt the daddy problems spurred that one on."

I feel sick. I stare at her, holding my breath, refusing to give her anything. But she's hitting every goddamn nerve in my body.

"And now the homeless vagabond is literally stalking you. Attempting to slice a vein in front of your employees because you left him." She laughs, and I want to rip her hair out. And that's probably exactly what she wants... to press charges on me, really screw up my life. "You didn't even go to college. That old pervert you work for probably found you somewhat attractive and felt remorse that your life went to shit, so he gave you a job you don't even fucking deserve."