Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) (13 page)

Brandon crosses back to where I am, still sitting, on the floor. He squats down in front of
me and his eyes search my face, gently touching
a scrat
ch on my cheek
.

He speaks softly,
“I’m so sorry, Charity, I have no ide
a how she even knew I was her
e
. Listen, there’s a little bit of a crowd outside. I’m going to deal with all this,” he
says, turning back to her with a look of disgust. “I need you to get
dressed and once I get her out of here
, give it five, ten minutes and then leave and go straight home. I’ll meet you back there as soon as I have this handled.”

I nod, dumb
ly, trying to take everything in
.

He runs his thumb over my cheek
again
before standing up agai
n. He grabs Vanessa by the arm
and starts to lead her out of the room.

“Bye, bye Bitch,” she calls back to me.

“Vanessa, I am warning you,” Brandon hisses. “One more word outta you and I am calling the cops and having your ass arrested for assault.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she challenges.

“Try me.”

They stare at each other intensely for a moment
and Vanessa seems to back down. She still looks like she could fly into another rage at any moment but she allows him to steer her from the room without further incident.

It takes me a few minutes to gather myself, still slightly in shock, and get dressed. I take one final look around the room to make sure I got everything. I peek outside the
window and don’t see anyone lurking about. I assume the coast is clear so I hoist my purse up on my shoulder and leave the room.

I try to keep my head up and act like I did not just get beat up by a girl that weighs less than one-hundred pounds.

There are a few people in the parking lot but no one seems to be paying any particular attention to me.
I hurry to my car,
pull out of the parking lot
,
and start heading home. I check the rearview
mirror
every five seconds,
like I’m
some
sort of
paranoid
C
IA agent
.
I roll my eyes and force myself to drive like a normal p
erson the rest of the way home.

**
*

Once home
,
I shower and change out of yesterday’s clothes. I try to busy myself with cleaning until Brandon arrives, a couple of hours later. He knocks on the door and I let him in after checking the peephole (not making that mistake again).

He
immediately
pulls me into his arms and I try to relax but I can’t force it. I push away fr
om him and cross my arms over
my chest. “What the hell was all that about?” I demand, trying (and
failing) to keep the anger
out of my voice.
“You told me you weren’t with her? Were you lyin
g to me? Is all of this a lie?”

He groans and rubs his face with both hands. “Charity, please don’t do this.”

“Do what?!” My voice is bordering on hysterical.

“Don’t freak out, please, I know that whole thing was jacked up and I really am sorry that
it
happened but don’t take your anger out on me. I’m on your side, remember?”

“Don’t freak out! How could you even say that to me right now?” I yell. “I just got beat up by your crazy girlfriend, or ex-girlfriend, whatever! And you want me to not freak out?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right. Can we sit down and talk about this? I don’t want to fight with you,” he asks, his voice deliberately low and soft.

I take a deep breath and nod. He steps forward and takes my hand and I let him lead me to the couch. We si
t down and he turns to face me.

“I didn’t lie when I told you that Vanessa and I are not together. We met a couple of years ago on the set
of my first movie
and
,
yes,
we
used
to date but that’
s been over for a long time. We’ve tried to stay f
riends after the breakup but it’
s been dysfunctional to say the least.”

“How did she know where you wer
e? If you didn’t invite her…
”

“My manager told her. I had called him yesterday to see about getting a longer break to stay here and be with my mom and so when Vanessa called him to find out where I was he told her everything. He told her about my mom
and the cancer
and gave her my info for the hotel.”

“Why would he do that?
If you’re not together?”

He sighs. “I don’t kno
w. She can be very…convincing.”

I wrinkle my nose.

“Anyways, I’ve handled it. I put her on a plane back to
LAX and told her that she is
never to come near you or me again.”

“What makes you think she will listen?”
I question, skeptically.

“Let’s just say, I brought it to her attention that I have some very compromising photos of her and that it would be a shame if those were to fall into the wrong hands,” he states, matter of fact.

I gasp, “You wouldn’t do that!”

I have nothing but ill-will towards this woman but even I wouldn’t stoop that low and the Brandon I know, or knew, wouldn’t either.

“No, I w
ouldn’t. But she doesn’t know me
well enough to know that,” he answers with a small smile.
“She won’t bother us again, I promise.”

He takes my hands. “Again, I am so sorry. I truly had no idea.”

I nod. I do believe him.
“Ok.”

“Are you ok?” He asks. He takes my chin in one hand and gently turns my head to see the scratch on my face.

“Yeah, I’m fine, a little scratched and bruised. I think you got her off of me before she went for the jugular. Good thing too. Who knew acrylic could do so much damage?” I joke.

Brandon smiles.
“I always hated those things.”

“What did you ever see in
her in the first place?” I ask.

Now that I have “met” this mysterious Vanessa woman I can pretty much state that she is my polar opposite. She is a high fashion, full make-up and hair, and probably sleeps in her stiletto heels kind of girl. I don’t doubt Brandon’s love for me
,
but if he’
s thinking I will ever be
some kind of
Glamazon
woman he’
s going to be very disappointed one day when he realizes that my make-up bag has less than ten things in it and that I really only fuss with my hair when I
’m
going somewhere fancy.

“Truthfully, I think the fact that she was different than anyone I had ever met was what initia
lly attracted me to her. But I
quickly realized that behind all that…stuff…is a very insecure woman that surrounds herself with people who will worship the ground she walks on and once you stop being good at that, she turns on you and either c
uts you out of her life or tries to make
your life hell.”

Listening to him
,
I almo
st begin to feel sorry for her.

Almost.

Brandon pulls me close to him on the couch and wraps his arm around me. I snuggle into his side and
breathe in his smell
.

After a while he tips my face toward hi
m and kisses me slowly.

“Charity, there is something we need to talk about though,” he says when we break apart.

I stiffen and
brace myself, suddenly nervous.

“What happened today is certainly not the norm and I don’t want to scare you but the world I’m from, down in LA, is totally different
than what you’
re used to here. You know that I love you and that I will do everything in my power to pro
tect you and keep you out of that
mess but I can’t guarantee that you won’t get hurt again.
Probably not in a catfight, like today, but sometimes words hurt more.”

He pauses, seeming to think of what to say next. “When I left that room with Vanessa there were people outside with camera phones. I wouldn’t be surprised if the tabloid takes the bits and pieces from today and spins some crazy story and ultimately you could end up in the middle of that. It could drag up our past.”

I feel my eyes go wide as
I absorb his words
.
I hadn’t even considered that.

“I hope that doesn’t happen, but I have to prepare you.
Especially if you decide to move to California with me.
Which, I really hope you do, more than you even know, but I would be doing you a disservice to not tell y
ou the whole truth.
The good and
the bad.”

“I understand,” I whisper. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid. But I
do
trust you to fight alongside me no matter what comes our way.
The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Brandon smiles at me and holds my gaze for a long minute before kissing me again. “So, we’re in this together, then?”

“All the way,” I smile. “Somehow, it feels like we always have been.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

Want more of Charity and Brandon’s story?

Well, you’re in luck
, because it’s not
over yet!

Check ba
ck February 2013 for the sequel,
Aftershock.

Check in with me at:

www.ElizabethStorme.com

A Sneak Peek at the Sequel:
Aftershock

Coming February 2013

Dating a movie star is turning out to be a little more complicated than I had originally imagined. It’s only been a little over a month since Brandon and I reconnected
and while it’s
been amazing,
there have been a few
snags along the way.

“Charity?
Are you even listening to me?” Brandon asks, impatiently.

We just hit one of those snags about ten minutes ago…

We were
walking back
from the grocery store
,
after picking up some
supplies
to make dinner
, and
about halfway to my townhouse
Brandon
had asked (for the third time) what I’m currently t
hinking
in regards to
my decision about whether or not I want to move
to California when he goes back to start work on his next movie shoot.

“Yes, I’m listening!
But I
don’t know what to say. It’s a big decision to make,” I say, totally exasperated with this entire conversation.

Brandon does
n’t say anything and when I glance
over at him
,
his jaw is clenched and he won’t look at me. I reach out my free hand to grab his arm. “Please don’t be mad.
I just need more time to figure it all out.
”

“
All I
want
is for
you to
talk to me,
tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Ok,” I agree. “After dinner, I promise. We’ll talk.
I’ll bust out the pro and con list and everything,
”
I joke, trying to
lighten the mood
.

He knows me well enough to know that I
actually do have
a pro and con list and it makes him smile. I feel myself relax.
He shifts the bags around so
that
he has a free hand and he reaches over and wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer as we finish the walk back to my house.

When we walk through the doors I am
assaulted by reminders
that there is now a guy living here too.
There are at least
three pairs of running shoes by the front door (why a person needs
that
many pairs of shoes out at once is beyond me), a laptop and tablet on the coffee table, and a couple old, faded sweatshirts throw
n across the back of the couch.