BAD WICKED TWISTED: A Briarcrest Academy Box Set (96 page)

All his love?

I laughed at that. I didn’t think so. I’d kept up with him in the papers and online. In the past two years, I’d seen the girls he’d dated, confident socialites with pretty dresses and even fancier college pedigrees. So what if that would have been me two years ago if my parents hadn’t died. But, I was different now. Changed. The Violet who’d emerged from the Atlantic Ocean was not the big-eyed girl he’d fallen in love with.

But I didn’t fault him for moving on. As he should have.

I flipped the card between my fingers, cement in my stomach at the thought of facing him again. The last time I’d seen him had been six months after the crash when I’d sat across from him at a fancy Manhattan restaurant and gone through the motions of being normal. That night, his hands had hovered constantly over me, almost as if by touch he could help me. Looking back now, I’d been too self-involved with my grief to see that he needed something I couldn’t give. He’d been too focused on saving me to see that I needed to be as far from my old life as I could get.

He’d picked up my hand, his fingers toying with my promise ring. A one-carat, princess cut diamond with emeralds on the side, it had cost more than most engagement rings. He’d smiled at me. “I know this is fast, but what do you think about a Christmas wedding? We could go to Hawaii for the honeymoon, or St. Tropez? I know how you love the sun.”

The room had spun. Walk down the aisle in front of the media and all our friends?
Get on a plane?
“What?”

“I’m ready for you to start living again, Violet.”

I stared at him. In horror.
Didn’t he get it?
My parents were at the bottom of the Atlantic. My music was gone. I considered killing myself each day.

“You need to move on, Violet.” Now, his voice was stern, and I saw him then. I saw how he was tired of my moping. Tired of my depression. He wanted his happy girl back.

I stood, my hands tapping. I was screwed up, and he had no clue because his life was still wrapped in fairy dust.

“I can’t,” came out of me. “I—I’m sorry.”

I twisted the ring off my finger. “This piece of jewelry is the only thing that survived the crash. I lost my parents, my violin, all my luggage, even the clothes they found me in were later thrown away … everything is gone except this one thing.” I placed it gently on the table and ended the final chapter. “And now it’s gone. Goodbye, Geoff.”

PHIL, MY NEW boss at Masquerade, was a real ass-hat.

I should have known it from the interview when his eyes never lifted above my neck, but the needy musician in me had ignored it. Of course, he had hired me without actually hearing me play or knowing my full name, so I guess my boobs had come in handy for that at least.

He smirked as he stood up from behind his desk and adjusted the waist of his slacks. Judging by his gut, he liked to eat, and even from here I could smell the garlic and cheesy bread on his breath. “You look pale,” he noted, “and lose the jacket and unbutton the top two buttons on your dress. This isn’t a nunnery; it’s a restaurant with a night club downstairs, so get with the program.”

Keeping my face placid, I did as he asked and undid some of the buttons. Silky and fitted with a lace overlay, I’d picked the dress up today after I’d left Dr. Cooke’s office. It was just the little confidence booster I needed to encourage me to get out there on that raised dais in the center of the restaurant and play. I sucked in a breath.
I could do this.

“You busy later?” Phil asked as we left his office and walked out into the restaurant.

“Yes.” If you count watching
Glee
re-runs.

He gave me a smarmy smile and licked his lips, his eyes honed in on my cleavage. “You sure? I just got a new Lamborghini. We could take a drive up to Mulholland and I could show you the sights.”

“That’s okay. I have a Maserati. It knows the way.”

He gave me a sharp look. “Watch yourself, V. I don’t like smart-mouths.”

I blinked. Had I been a smart-ass? Maybe. I grinned and clung to the brave feeling that bubbled up. I tried it on for size. “Are you sexually harassing me? Because if you are, I’ve always wanted to own an Italian restaurant.” Not true.

He puffed up his chest and took two giant steps back from me as he held his hands up in front of him. “I was just making conversation. No one is harassing you here.” He cleared his throat. “Now, get over to the hostess stand and wait for me to call for you.”

He marched off in a huff, and I mentally cheered. It was a tiny victory.

I headed to the coat check to hang up my jacket.

A young, female voice spoke from behind me. “
Pssst
, V.”

I looked behind me and saw the redheaded hostess girl I’d met earlier. She waved and smiled broadly from behind her stand. It was hard to believe we were the same age.

“Yeah?”

She smacked her gum. “Come over here. There’s a guy in the VIP section who’s staring at you like you’re on the dessert menu. His eyes followed you all the way out of Phil’s office. Weird, huh?”

I harrumphed. “He probably just has gas.”

“He was staring so hard I’m surprised you couldn’t
feel
it.” She wiggled all over.

I glanced down at my black ensemble. “He’s probably wondering why my dress is unbuttoned to my navel.” I buttoned it back up. Screw Phil.

Her eyes flared big as saucers as she arched her neck to get a better view of him. “OMG
,
get this: he’s with Blair Storm, which means it’s
him
.” She flapped her arms around.

I walked closer. “Um, you okay?” Maybe I should have applied at the Macaroni Grill down the road.

Then alarm bells rang. “Wait. Blair Storm?”

“Uh-huh,” she said as she covertly held her phone next to a menu and snapped pics. “They are so freaking beautiful. My roommate is going to
die
when I text her this.”

Dread pooled in my stomach. I scanned the tables hurriedly, but didn’t see them. “Where?”

She pointed and I found them at a big curved booth in the back with several other people. My heart jumped as Sebastian’s intense eyes met mine. His muscled arms flexed, calling attention to his hands—which were on top of the table cuddling with Blair Storm’s
.

Oh. I looked away, surprised by how much it hurt to see them together.

Phil walked up to the stand and clapped his hands. “Quit gawking at the celebrities with your mouth open.” He looked at me. “Are you ready to play?”

My chest tightened and my eyes bounced around. I landed on Sebastian. “There’s someone I have to say hello to first.”

“Who?” he and the hostess girl said at the same time.

“Ahhhhhh.” I nodded my head in Sebastian’s direction. “Guy at table eight?”

She grabbed her chest. “You-you
know
him?”

“He came over one night to go swimming. Saved a dog. Quoted Shakespeare to me.”

“OMG, you’re going to be so famous,” she exclaimed. “Please, get his autograph for me when you go over there. And Spider’s too.” She closed her eyes, in the throes of a star-gasm. “‘Superman’ was like the best song ever. In the video, they danced in these fur coats during a snowstorm on a rooftop … only at the end, you see, they take off the coats, and they’re wearing these tiny bikini briefs, you know like the Europeans wear, and you can tell they have big cocks—”

I held my hand up to stop the madness. “I get the picture.” I’d actually seen the famous video today when I’d googled them, but it had been their music that I’d noticed. It was wild and raw with lyrics straight from the heart. Toss in how gorgeous they were, and it was no wonder they’d hit it big.

Phil put his hand on my arm. “We don’t flirt with the guests.”

I shook him off. “It would be rude to ignore him—and he’s waving me over.” He totally wasn’t, but before I could change my mind, I grabbed the note pad the hostess thrust in my face and went for it.

Anything to get my mind off playing.

I made my way over to the VIP section.

Just say hi. That’s all. Don’t look at Bubbles and think about how you’d like to stick a fork in her eyeball.

I stopped at their table, my eyes widening when I saw Mila.

“Hey, you,” she said in surprise, a big smile on her face.

I filled in the gaps, remembering how she said she was a PR person.

“Your clients?” I asked, indicating Sebastian and Spider, and she nodded. Relief filled me because I liked her. A lot. But if she’d been seeing Sebastian, then I’m not so sure how I would have felt. Not sure why that mattered anyway, since he was obviously seeing Blair.

Spider looked from me to her. “You guys know each other?”

“We bonded over coffee and a mutual distrust of boob jobs,” she said on a giggle.

Sebastian crossed his arms, effectively dropping hands with Blair. His eyes darted over my shoulder, and I followed his gaze and found Phil’s angry face and the hostess girl’s look of rapture.

I sighed. “That’s my boss. He didn’t want me coming over.”

“You didn’t mention this is where you worked,” he said, a hint of accusation in his voice.

“She did to me,” Mila chimed in. “I can’t wait to hear her play the violin.”

I looked at Sebastian. “You didn’t mention you were coming here on a date,” I said.

Blair’s eyes were daggers as they raked over me. “Well as you can see, he
is
on a date.”

I ignored her and poked Spider in the arm and nodded my head at his drink. “You want me to come over tomorrow and make you another green drink? Don’t think I didn’t see you pour it out this morning before I left.”

He grinned and toasted me with his whiskey glass. “
This
is the best hangover remedy I need, but if you do come, I’ll make sure I have my pants on next time.” He chuckled. “I just can’t promise I’ll drink what you make.”

An older man sitting with them, who’d been studying me, spoke. “You must be the new neighbor Sebastian mentioned earlier.” He shook my hand. “I’m Harry Goldberg, their agent.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said warily. With stark white hair and beady eyes, he had a sharp look to him, as if there wasn’t much he missed.

Blair’s face was hard as she looked at me. “Don’t you work at the coffee shop in the Grant Plaza? The one with the low-fat Frappuccino’s everyone raves about?”

“No,” I said.

Her eyes turned into slits. “You sure? I could have sworn I’d seen you there.”

I smiled tightly. “I’m pretty sure of where I work. It’s here.”

I gave Sebastian a searching look.
Why was he with her?

“No, really, I think I’ve seen—”

“Can you join us for a few?” Sebastian asked, cutting her off.

Here we go. Cold then hot. Up then down.

“I don’t want to bother you during your meal, plus I have to go on soon.” My hands shook at the thought. I sucked in a breath, trying to chill out.

Concern flickered over his face. “V, sit down. Please.”

I touched my cheeks. They felt clammy.

“You are so sweet to worry about some little waitress,” Blair cooed as she leaned in and kissed Sebastian lightly on the lips. I watched as Mila clawed at her like a kitten from behind. But I couldn’t laugh. I wanted to crawl under the table.

Spider touched my hand, as if sensing my thoughts. “Here, sit by me.”

I nodded and settled in next to him. He tossed a tattooed arm around me and gave me a little hug. His other arm was already around Mila. He glanced at us both and grinned. “Bloody hell, I’ve got two beautiful birds on either side of me. All we need now is a dark room, a big-ass bed, and some lube.”

I burst out laughing along with Mila. He was just teasing, of course, but Sebastian’s jaw clenched as he stared at us. I let my eyes rove over the rest of him, taking in the tousled hair, the blazing blue eyes, the fullness of his lips—even if they did seem a bit tight. He might be with Blair, but he
was
angry that I was sitting next to Spider. It made no sense.

As Sebastian and Blair ducked their heads to talk to each other, Spider chuckled from beside me and whispered. “Blair’s getting her knickers in a wad at the way you’re staring at her man.”

Shit!
I flicked my eyes over at her red face and then turned back to Spider. “Why does she hate me?” I whispered.

Spider cocked an eyebrow at me. “Babe, you’re hot. Sebastian’s the one who’s making it worse. He can’t take his eyes off you. He saw you come out from the back with your boss and nearly flipped his lid. I think he thought you were on a date.”

With Phil?

“He blew me off last night,” I murmured. “I don’t think he really cares.”

Spider nodded. “He’s had a rough time of it. Putting up with me, managing the band—and now Blair. I don’t know how he keeps it together. He’s my best mate, and if it wasn’t for him, I’d probably be dead. Or back in rehab.” He sighed. “We didn’t come here just to make movies, you know. Part of the reason he wanted to settle down in LA was to get me off the road for a while. He’s a good guy. Always has been.”

I nodded.

Harry said something to me and I turned back to face the table. “Sorry. What was that?” I asked.