Cobalt Bay, California
A year later...
At twenty-two, I shouldn't feel old but as I sat there in the cozy VIP room of a dark, smoke-filled club surrounded by drunk and disorderly people, old was all I felt.
Maybe it was finally time to ditch the crazy birthday parties.
Maybe next year, I should turn twenty-three at the top of Mount Kilimanjaro or underwater, swimming with dolphins. Somewhere where I didn't have to sit and smile and put up with people who came just to be seen or try to get into my pants.
Like this guy.
"So. I heard the famous Kady Lynn Jones is celebrating her birthday," he said as he came up the steps to our elevated and corded off area, holding two drinks and tailed by a couple of his buddies. He was cute and practically busting out of his extra-tight shirt. "I'm Brax Lewis. Thought I'd buy you a drink, babe."
Dude. Just no.
"He owns Cali Body, the gym chain," Sidney muttered in my ear without an attempt at subtlety. As a food and lifestyle columnist at the local paper, Sidney Cheng knew everyone in the Cobalt Bay social scene.
I smiled up at Brax whose name I immediately judged to be as ridiculous as the size of his pecs, but made no move to take the drink he offered or budge from the lounger where I was practically draped in nothing more than a short, black, lacy slip of a dress. I knew I looked like a serving of generous curves and long, luscious legs but I dressed however I liked and most of the time that meant little fabric. I was resigned to the fact that there was no point in trying to cover up all the time. I could be wearing a sack and I would still get called out for being indecent.
If I'm going to get crucified anyway, I might as well enjoy sinning.
"Thanks but I have a personal policy against taking open drinks from strangers," I said, tipping him a small smile. That was as generous as I'd get with him tonight.
He took that refusal in stride. "We don't have to be strangers for very long. Give me five minutes and I can fix that."
I raised my brow at the audacity. "That quick, huh? I'm surprised you think it's supposed to tempt women."
"That's not what I meant," he countered, flushing and slightly disgruntled. "I last longer than that."
"Hmm. A get-to-know-you that's longer than five minutes," I mused. "That'll make any woman feel special."
Brax frowned at me for a second. "You're talking circles around me."
I smiled and picked up my own drink for a sip. "Yeah. I was bored and you were presumptuous."
Unfortunately, instead of pissing him off, he smiled and found it amusing. "Phew! I was warned you can be difficult with men."
True or not, I didn't care for it.
"Difficult is what men would call women who don't snap to attention at their mere presence," I said. "But don't let me ruin the lie for you."
"He's not hard on the eyes, Kady," Sidney mumbled with a gentle nudge of his elbow to my side. He usually enjoyed watching a slow-motion train wreck but he's got an agenda tonight.
Brax glanced at him in irritation. Clearly, he hated having an audience to his rejection. Even his pals behind him were trying not to snicker.
"Fine. Maybe we can talk business if that's more your style," he said, straightening himself back to dignity. "I was thinking we can explore the opportunity of you representing my brand."
I wasn't really that piqued as Brax might have hoped.
Why? Because most people who wanted me associated with their company did so for two main reasons—my body and my reputation.
I do a lot of things both as a passion and profession but I mostly model lingerie—the really sexy kind. I wasn't tall or skinny enough for catwalk or editorial but I had all the right curves to make very pricey scraps of fabric look even more seductive. 'Voluptuous', as described by most people I worked with, still had a market.
I didn't mind it. It paid well and mostly tolerated all the body issues I'd struggled with for years—big boobs, big hips, big butt, big thighs. It wasn't because they realized the wrongness of measuring a woman's worth by her dress size. It was because they found a way to make money out of it.
Do I have a problem with that? Sure, I do, in some amount.
But at the same time, I reasoned with myself that since people were going to say shit about my body anyway whether I put it on print or not, I might as well get paid for it.
It was a more-than-decent income and a good slap in the face for anyone who doomed me with what I couldn't change. With time, it became easier to tune those people out and feel good about the very thing that's made me feel inadequate for years. And I haven't really looked back.
Nowadays, whether I was in just a thong, a bikini or a pair of designer jeans, my body appeared in billboards and magazine spreads. Even in the occasional exhibit by some prominent photographers. My figure was always a draw, but my features, thanks to my mutt-like mixed heritage, apparently made for an interesting and exotic combination. I was told I looked like a lot of different people but also like no one else.
And that wasn't a far cry from the truth because I looked nothing like the family I know, which is a total of one person—my adoptive mother.
All she could tell me was that my biological mother, who had been her costume-designer at one point, was of African-American and Spanish heritage while my father was from the Middle East. I ended up with very curly, brown-black hair which I kept short and loose. My skin was a deep, warm brown, and my face featured big, deep-set, amber-colored eyes, a prominent nose only softened by the slight upturn at the tip of it, sharp cheekbones, and full lips that sported the much-coveted just-bitten look.
So if you add all that to a bombshell body and a notorious reputation for being a wild, untameable party girl with a rebellious history, you've got yourself a vixen.
Yes. I just grouped all those adjectives into one sentence. Maybe it's too much but 'too much' is a common reference to me as well so there you go. That should give you a fairly good idea of what made me such a bestseller for brands who wanted to sell sex and sin.
"I don't work out at your gym and I don't want to lie about that," I said coolly, remembering the advice, Ellen, my agency manager, told me about trying not to piss off potential clients. "Besides, the most I do is swim and beat up a punching bag. I like to leave a little bit of cellulite on. Can't lie about that either."
Brax took his damn time appraising my figure from head to toe, clearly liking the inventory, not that I've met a man who hadn't. And the cellulite isn't exactly on display so he probably doesn't believe me. "Can't believe that's all it takes for all of that. You sure that's all you do to work up some sweat?"
I rolled my eyes, finally straightening up to a sitting position. "Alright. That's enough. I'm no Merriam-Webster but business is not synonymous to banging so go take your baby trunk arms and leave now."
Brax snorted out a laugh. "Oh, come on. You can't seriously be offended by that."
My eyes narrowed into slits. "You're right. That doesn't offend me. Your mere existence does. So leave, gym boy, before I make you."
The smile on his face wilted a little as he studied me warily. "You're really not... you know... thinking that—"
"She won't set your crotch on fire?" Sidney supplied cheerfully. "Cut you with a broken glass? Break your jaw with an ashtray?"
I groaned even though I enjoyed the sight of Brax paling a little as he looked at me.
"I've heard some things but... he's just exaggerating, right?"
I gave him my mysterious smile. "Only one way to find out."
"They're all true so I would run for the hills if I were you," a woman said behind Brax. He stepped aside and we all found ourselves watching Rachel saunter in, wearing huge celebrity sunglasses in this awful lighting and swinging around a Chloe bag that was almost as big as her entire torso.
"Unless you're a guy who likes a challenge," Sidney added in haste. He'd been at me all night, trying to convince me to get laid because he thinks everyone deserved sex on their birthday. I told him, if I won't even blow candles on my birthday, there was no way I was blowing anything else.
"There's a challenge and there's crazy," Rachel butted in as she plopped down on one side of the lounger. "This one here's crazy and no guy's really up for that."
"Thanks for the compliment," I grated at her. "Your good opinion of me is making me tear up a little."
"Right," Brax said as he awkwardly glanced back and forth between me and Rachel. He mustered a nervous smile. "Uh, I guess I'll see you guys around. Enjoy your birthday."
"Bye, fuckboy," Rachel muttered under her breath with a giggle.
I raised a brow because it's been almost a year since I've heard Rachel say something dirty. She'd somehow decided that it didn't go with her new prissy image.
"Are you already drunk, Rach?" Sidney asked with a laugh, realizing the same thing I did. "You haven't been drunk in a bazillion years."
Rachel flashed a sheepish grin. "I've been drunk several times. Just in secret. It's too good to give up."
"I'm no expert but that's probably not something you should keep from your future husband," I said, glancing around. "Speaking of which, where's Stellan? Thought you were both making an appearance."
While the two were attached at the hip at practically every social event since they got together almost exactly a year ago, after meeting at my birthday party, Stellan rarely showed up with Rachel to anything I was at. I never said anything but Rachel apologized to me once early on saying that Stellan wasn't really a fan of my kind of scene. That he would often tell her not to go and they would fight about it because she really wanted to be there for me (or at least for my guests that she was interested in meeting).
I knew he didn't have the highest opinion of me but still, it had stung.
It's for the best.
That's no lie.
Whenever he was around, I could not relax.
More like, I WOULD not relax.
Because around him, unfortunately, I have to be constantly on guard.
He's the only one who doesn't make me comfortable in my own skin and I don't like it.
"Rachel. Hey," I prompted when she didn't answer. I watched her take her sweet time beckoning a server over and ordering a cocktail.
Leaving her sunglasses on, she dropped her bag on the floor and sank deeper into the seat, stretching her overly fake-tanned legs and crossing them at the ankles. She looked like she always did these days—dressed expensively in a designer outfit, her dark hair set in perfect Kate Middleton waves, her make-up never straying from neutrals. She was going for the polished billionaire wife look although in my opinion, she often looked more like a headmistress at an overpriced boarding school. But hey, that's what Stellan Cartwright must've ordered for a wife.
"Stellan's at home," she finally answered. "At least that's where I left him. He might go out drinking with his friends. Or, knowing him, he probably won't. He barely drinks even when the occasion calls for it."
Something felt off and I glanced at Sidney who was already looking at me with a frown.
"Did you guys have a fight or something?" Sidney asked slowly although not so innocently.
Rachel didn't answer right away again. Just studied her nails as if she could see shit in this lighting and in those sunglasses.
I snapped my fingers at the people huddled in a nearby corner of our space who were doing a combination of dancing, drinking, talking and making out. Not exactly friends but just some people I knew who'd hang around when we were out and about town. I wasn't feeling chatty tonight so they'd given me some space.
"You. Out. Right now," I said, gesturing to the exit. "Come back in half an hour."
"Ah, Kady," Fitz, one of the guys in the group, mused out loud even as he got up to his feet. "At twenty-two, you're not only older and wiser. You're also ruder."
"Dealing with it builds your character so you're welcome," I retorted. "Now, go."
I waited not so patiently while everyone grudgingly filed out and left the three of us alone. Just then, the server appeared with Rachel's drink so we had to wait for that too.
"Rachel. Everyone's gone. Tell us," I prompted her again.
She took a long sip of her drink and I nearly hurled my shoe at her.
"You're so fucking bossy, you know that?" she whined, finally taking her glasses off.
"I'm only interested in things I don't already know," I told her irritably. "Get to the point before I get wrinkles in my vagina."
Sidney choked on his drink. "Jesus, Kady. I may not be into vaginas but I don't need that kind of visual."
"I'll stop when Rachel spares us the dramatic intro," I said.
"Fine, fine!" Rachel sputtered—dramatically, I might add. She let out a long sigh and leaned forward, a strip of light exposing her face. I could see her bloodshot eyes and the smudged mascara around them.
I tensed, my skin prickling all over. "Did he hurt you?"
"What?" Rachel asked in confusion. Then she snorted and shook her head. "Oh, no. Come on. This is Stellan we're talking about. He won't even hurt a fly."
"But you cried," I pointed out, aware that I sounded stupid.
Crying didn't automatically equate to abuse but in the year since Rachel started dating Stellan, I haven't seen her cry once. Or learn that they'd fought. They always seemed so perfectly in love. At least that was how it sounded coming from Rachel.
"Well, yeah. I felt bad," she answered before giggling. Drunk giggling annoyed the hell out of me. "Or at least I wanted him to think I felt bad. I kinda do, though. I do, a little, because he's a really nice guy. But just too nice, you know? I just can't."
The oxygen in my lungs thinned. "Rachel. What exactly did you do?"
"Dumped him," she answered before tossing back the rest of her drink. "Loved the life. Loved the luxury. Even loved him too, you know? But I couldn't. Now that—I just couldn't."
I tried to keep my jaw locked together so it didn't hit the floor.
Rachel dumped Stellan.
Why???
"What do you mean you couldn't?" Sidney asked. "Like you can't live the kind of life that comes with marrying him?"
"I can," she said, rolling her eyes. "Truth is, that's the only fun part. If I'm just with Stellan, it can get... you know."
"No, we don't know which is why we're asking," I snapped, feeling more high-strung by the second.
"It can get boring! There, I said it!" she spat out angrily. "He's a great guy. A nice guy. He does everything I ask. And he's surprisingly good in bed. But he's not exciting!"
I swear you can hear the imaginary crickets over the loud dance music playing in the background.
Stellan. Not exciting.
I couldn't wrap my brain around it because the handful of times I've been around him, have spoken to him, my blood would run hot. My insides would feel all twisted. The world would spin and stop. My heartbeat would speed up so fast I'd have trouble catching my breath.
"Does this have anything to do with that Castillano guy you were seen cozying up to at Herman Terrendale's yacht party last weekend?" Sidney asked.
Both Rachel and I swung our heads in his direction.
"Bobby Castillano? That babyface brat who always reeks of cologne and displays his carefully trimmed chest hair every chance he gets?" I asked, unable to help my gaggy expression.
"He's a sophisticated man but you wouldn't understand that because that's not the kind of guy who goes for you," Rachel gritted out, confirming our suspicions. "He's worldly, extremely wealthy, and highly educated."
I glared at her. "Last I heard from a reliable source, aka you, Stellan has a few PhDs. Founded his own think-tank at twenty-two. In line to inherit a large share of his family's cruise line empire. Built his own tech and communication company from the ground up. Helped invent some kind of revolutionary monitoring system for cancer patients. Net worth's about four billion, give or take. Has a fucking six-pack for a supposed nerd. Compare him to Bobby who hasn't worked a day in his life. Who will probably blow through his trust fund before he's thirty. Bobby who only got in and got through Cornell thanks to his family's regular donations. Who is so vain he refuses to date a woman who is prettier than he is. How's that for your ego, by the way?"
"Bobby is serious about me," Rachel shot back darkly. "And he'll be worth so much more when he takes over the family business. He wants to have fun for now while he still can. He's not spending all his time trying to save the world or make it a better place. He doesn't dress like he's poor. He doesn't want kids right away. He doesn't talk about the most boring shit all the time."
"Clearly, you and Stellan are not on the same page," Sidney said reasonably even though Rachel and I are both starting to seethe for different reasons. "Did you try talking to him about it?"
"She can't make him change into a different man," I told him. "Because that's what Rachel wants. A different man. She should've probably thought of that before she went out with him because he's never posed to be anything else since day one. But I guess the shiny things that come with dating a billionaire were just too hard to resist."
"That's not fair!" Rachel argued, her cheeks getting redder both from the alcohol and the anger. "I thought I could like all those things. I tried and for a while it seemed to work. But then I met Bobby and realized I could have all those too without turning into a dead bore."
I looked at her in disgust. "You are so fucking selfish!"
"And so are you!" she blasted at me. "Don't go all righteous on me, Kady. You're the one who had an affair with a man old enough to be your grandfather and got a house to show for it. Talk about selfish!"
Here we go again.
This supposed affair with Jonah Wallace is going to haunt me forever. I've explained it to a few people, Rachel included, but apparently, she's conveniently forgotten it.
"First of all, I couldn't have had an affair with a man who wasn't married or in a relationship," I started, trying to leash my temper so I wouldn't end up punching the woman out cold. "Second, even if I had been with Jonah, I wouldn't have two-timed him. I definitely wouldn't have left him high and dry two days before our wedding for a guy who's more child than man."
"Why do you even care so much?" she demanded. "You and Stellan don't even get along. You think he's too prim and proper and he thinks you're a bad influence."
"Sure, we don't agree on a lot of things but it doesn't mean I think he deserves to be treated like shit," I replied acidly. "You could've refused a second date if he bored you to tears. You didn't have to lead him this close to the altar only to ditch him for a rich, irresponsible playboy who's only going to do you what you've done to Stellan."
"You just don't understand and you never will!" Rachel slammed her empty glass down on the table and glared at me.
"Agreed because while the world might think of me as the crazy, cold-hearted bitch out of the two of us, I'm not the one cheating on a good man," I countered, holding nothing back at this point. I was just so angry. Maybe too angry to some but I wasn't going to start explaining to anyone why. "But you know what? Maybe this is good. You're doing him a big favor by letting him go. God knows if you could've even made him happy as miserable as you were being with him."
"I don't know how you put up with her treating people like trash," Rachel told Sidney as she leapt to her feet in holy indignation.
"He doesn't because I only treat people like trash if that's what they are," I snapped back. "And right now you're getting the VIP treatment. I wish I can say you're just being an idiot about all of this but we all know you're more greedy than you are stupid so there's that."
"I'm leaving," she huffed, grabbing her bag and sunglasses. "And when I leave you here, it's for good. Don't consider us friends anymore."
I snorted. "Never did. I don't consider users as friends."
Rachel's lips thinned. "You think you're so cool and badass now but one day, someone's going to bring you down to your knees."
"Don't hold your breath."
She turned to go but a flash on her hand caught my eye.
"Hold up. You can't wear that ring anymore," I said. "You should've given it back to him."
"He doesn't want it," she said.
"You should've left it there," I argued, getting angrier than I would've imagined possible at the moment.
She gave me an incredulous look. "It's a half-a-million-dollar ring. Like you said, I'm not stupid."
"That's right. Just greedy. But there are some things you can't get away with," I told her firmly. "So hand it over. We'll give it back to him. And while you're at it, add the keys he gave you to his place and that of the new convertible he bought you a few months ago."
"No way! He doesn't want any of them back. They're gifts."
"No, they're not," I insisted, not caring if Stellan didn't really want them back. I wasn't about let Rachel take more than what she already had from him.
"If you try to leave with them, I'll instruct the bouncers to grab you on your way out," I said in a tone low enough to make my warning very clear and very real. "Even if you do sneak away, I'll track you down to your new boyfriend's villa and I'll torch the place with both of you in it."
"You know I can get a restraining order against you, right?" she said, squaring her shoulders as if that would intimidate me.
"Try your best. You won't be the first or the last to attempt it and fail," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. "Now, hand them over and leave. I'm sure Bobby's waiting around somewhere to live out your happily-ever-after."
Rachel studied me in a clear display of her inner struggle. She didn't want to give anything up but she'd known me long enough to know what I was capable of.
"Fuck you, Kady Lynn Jones," she finally bit out before pulling the ring off her finger and throwing it at me. It pelted my arm hard before I caught it. I made no sound as the pain registered. She dug out a couple of keys from her purse and threw them as well but Sidney caught them before they could hit me in the face. "I will never forgive you for this."
"Won't ever ask you to," I said with a smile, only a little satisfied at my momentary victory over her. "Now, leave. Get your cheating ass out of here and never look back. If I see you around my usual haunts in the city, I'll have you thrown out."
Her mouth dropped open. "You can't ban me from this city!"
"Maybe not entirely but I'll have fun doing as much damage as I can," I promised her with a wink. "You can stay or you can go back to your little backwoods town where the only real estate you own is your parents' double wide."
Even in this light and with all the blood suffused in her cheeks, Rachel paled and I not-so-secretly relished her reaction.
"Yes, I know all about the real Rachel Miller," I reassured her. "I honestly wouldn't have given a fuck if you'd just told us the truth but you didn't and that really only drives home the point of how much of a climber you are. I wouldn't have cared about that much either except that you used me and good people like Stellan and his family to do it. Now I give all kinds of fucks."
"Fine! Fine!" Rachel was practically yelling now, waving about her ludicrous handbag. "I'll stay out of your way. It's not like you do anyone's reputation any good anyway. Most of the time, you're just a batshit crazy cu—"
"Say the word and I'll punch you in the throat," I cut in coldly, flexing my hand. It's been ages since I've hit something and right now, Rachel's face will more than do. "Then I'll rip off your extensions and bash your veneers in. Your call."
Unable to say more without getting wrung out for it, Rachel finally let out some kind of frustrated shriek, spun around and hightailed out of there.
People were looking from the dance floor below but I just narrowed my eyes at anyone whose gaze I caught.
Then I sat back, waiting for some measure of lasting satisfaction.
But no.
I still want to punch someone.
*****
Ninya's Notes:
Hi everyone! Hope you had a fantastic week!
You all got to know Kady a little better in this chapter. I know Stellan isn't in the scene but he's heavily featured as Kady's inner torment.
Let me know what you think!
Also, thank you for all your suggestions as to what you'd like to see next. There is definitely a lot of spin-off requests. LOL. It's hard to write stories for the kiddos because I really have to fast-forward quite far into the future and I'm always not sure if I can write a world that's still very similar to the one their parents were in. Like, would we even have cellphones then? Do we still drive cars? Does anyone still work in the office? Stuff like that. But we'll see...
Thanks again and see you at the next post!
♪♪♪ Chapter Soundtrack: Lying to the Mirror by Grabielle Aplin ♪♪♪
Can we believe all that we read all that we tell you?
What you perceive to be the truth and what is real,
Leaving you scraping at the bottom of the barrel,
Nothing is broken or forgotten that's the deal,
And all your monsters in the night they come to life,
So you embrace them in the hope that you'll survive,
Intoxicated by the fear and the flames,
There's paranoia in your veins.
We're all lying to the mirror,
Lying to ourselves,
Hiding in the glitter,
Lying to the mirror.