Contracted For Love: Famous Love Series (11 page)

Jack’s phone ringing woke them both the next morning. He answered it with his arm still around her.

“Jack? Are you home yet?”

“Yes, Reid,” Jack sighed, “We got home late last night.”

“Awesome. Well, set that hot piece of ass aside that you’ve been banging all week and come rehearse with us today.” He spoke so loudly that Charlotte could hear the whole conversation. “We’ve booked a studio and we need to get some shit down. The tour is only six weeks away, dude. Cindy wants to meet with us and go through some promo stuff, too. There are a few things she needs.”

Charlotte pulled away from him as he continued his conversation. She didn’t want to hear what Cindy might be doing, or what Cindy might need. She’d almost ruined his proposal in Paris, and Charlotte would have been pissed if he’d decided not to do it. It was a nice gesture, and she adored the ring he’d chosen for her. She stepped into the shower, so she didn’t have to hear Reid’s loud voice. When she emerged, Jack was already in the lounge room, scowling over the internet.

Just like old times.

“Okay, out with it. What have you found?”

“Reid told me to check. Those bloody vultures have documented our every move. They even got pictures of my proposal to you!” He seemed outraged that a place he’d thought was private in the gardens had turned out to be anything but.

“Why are you so angry? What difference does it make? Didn’t you have a nice, relaxed week not knowing any of that?”

“I did, Char, you know I did, but Jesus, we’re everywhere.”

Charlotte sat and unwrapped the new iPhone Jack had bought her in the duty free at the airport last night. She inserted the SIM card and activated it online. After plugging it in to charge, she went to him and massaged his shoulders, peering over him at the websites he was scrolling through.

She thought about when she’d done this just a week ago, when he was so furious with her. So much had changed between them in just a week. She didn’t care who had pictures of what; she was thrilled that their holiday had been so fabulous. They were going to be able to keep up their charade a lot better, now that they were more relaxed with each other.

“I love those pictures.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Not at all. Not many people get photos of their own wedding proposal. I love whoever took those—look at how many shots they got. They even got photos of me losing my mind and kissing you,” she laughed as he scrolled through picture after picture. She marvelled at how happy and carefree they looked, especially Jack. It was almost like he wasn’t acting at being in love.

“Well, how about these ones?” He clicked on a new site with shots of them in the café, obviously taken by the group of girls she’d called over. Photos of them eating ice cream outside the Louvre, as well as audience photos from the Moulin Rouge had also been shared. They were grainy, but the photos showed her watching the show, while Jack watched her. It was an intimate shot and she wasn’t surprised when he quickly clicked away.

The last page he clicked on had photographs of them lining up to buy their tickets for the Eiffel Tower, followed closely by photos of them lying on a blanket by the fountain, watching the lights come on. Her eyes scanned down the article and she leaned in to point the text out to him.

“Look: it says what a nice change it is to see you out and about, looking happy and relaxed. We’re obviously in love, according to this genius, and you’ve never looked so happy.” Charlotte smirked behind him as she kept pushing her thumbs into his shoulders. “God, I was a good girlfriend. Imagine how great I’ll be as a wife.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I am. More than you know.” She suddenly reached forward and closed the laptop with a snap, and he pulled his fingers away from the keyboard just in time to stop them from being crushed. “No more of this obsessive reading about yourself, Jack. I always thought the stars said they don’t read anything about themselves? It’s time you made that your new mantra.” She moved around to the front, took a seat beside him, and grabbed his hand as she continued explaining her reasoning. “What would have happened if you had seen those Eiffel Tower photos the day after?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you have proposed to me at Versailles?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s an honest answer, at least. Would you have wandered the halls of the Louvre, holding my hand like you did? Would you have danced and grinded all over me for an hour in the club? Would we have laughed at the Mona Lisa, and stuffed our faces with pastries on the street, if you’d been keeping tabs every morning?”

“Probably not.”

“Right. So, my point has been proven. Worrying about what everyone thinks all the time changes how you live. You might be famous, but you cannot fucking live that way anymore.”

“You know, you hardly swore the whole week we were away. Were you trying extra hard?”

“Nope. I didn’t think about it for a second. Maybe because you weren’t being an asshole to me all week, I didn’t feel the need to voice my opinion so forcefully.”

“Maybe not. Interesting.”

They stared at each other and a smile played around Jack’s mouth. Before he could tell her what he was thinking, his phone vibrated on the table beside them. Freddy Caspian’s name popped up and Charlotte rolled her eyes and left the table.

“Yes, Freddy?” He laid the phone on the table and pressed the speaker button, so Charlotte could hear.

“Jack, my boy. What a stroke of genius that vacation was. You’ll have to thank Charlotte for insisting on it. Album sales are up twenty percent in France, and your first single is back in the top one hundred.” He crowed, like Christmas had come early.

“Really? Why?”

“Why? Why?” Freddy’s voice rose. “Because the world had an entire week of watching the Jack and Charlotte love show. You were on the news here two separate nights, once word got out of that engagement. We need to put out a press release, by the way. Anyway, stroke of genius, my man. I hear you made the news in Australia, too. I’ve even had an enquiry from that venue in Germany, who couldn’t fit us into the upcoming tour schedule. They’re prepared to make some adjustments to get it to work.”

Jack looked perplexed, and Charlotte gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she moved to check if her phone had charged enough. She needed to restore her data, so she could get all her contacts on her new phone. Before doing that, though, she sent her new number to both Jay and Jack’s mobiles. His bleeped, while he was talking to Freddy.

She turned as he hung up and he stared at her with wide eyes. “I should have gotten married years ago!” he exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing her around the waist. Jack swung her off her feet and she laughed as she held on. “This was the best idea ever. Remind me to send a present to the agents.” He put her down and headed to their room to get dressed. Charlotte sighed and sat alone at the table, fiddling with her phone as Mrs. Jones entered the room.

“Wouldn’t have helped him to get married years ago,” she remarked as she dusted the sideboard and collected the dirty coffee cup Jack had left. Charlotte looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate on her cryptic comment. She didn’t disappoint as she left in the direction of the kitchen and said under her breath, “No one but Charlotte Shipton could have made that magic happen.”

***

Charlotte arranged to meet Jack at the recording studio at four that afternoon. She’d watch the last hour of their rehearsal and then he would take her out for dinner to celebrate. She was excited to get her second taste of the Strip. She’d insisted that she wouldn’t go with Mr. Stepford, as she continued to call Mr. Phillips, because he refused to break with the rules and freely converse with her. Jack had left her the Mustang with strict instructions to call if she found it too hard to drive on the opposite side of the road. As she fired up the car after a day of poring over her script, she worried that she wouldn’t be able to master driving on the wrong side of the road, as she couldn’t help but call it.

The drive was easier than she expected, though, and she pulled into the carpark just after half past three. Jack had organised to leave a parking spot free for the Mustang. For once, she was grateful he could do that small thing for her. Charlotte pushed through the double doors and the receptionist pointed her to studio three, where the boys were recording. She didn’t know whether to knock, but she’d understood that they were rehearsing and not recording, so she went right in.

The sight that greeted her had her rooted to the spot, unable to believe her eyes. Richie and Keith were sitting in the corner, smoking something that looked suspiciously like an illegal drug. Charlotte had no experience with drugs, but whatever they were doing did not look like an activity she wanted to become familiar with. Fergus was shouting into his mobile phone at someone that they should sell his share portfolio, and he was naked from the waist down.

Reid and Jack—her future husband, Jack—were sitting on the couch, while Cindy waved her bare ass in their faces and begged them to take a turn. Reid was laughing it up, having a great old time and encouraging her to take her top off as she bent over and showed them all she had. Jack was fiddling with his mobile phone while glancing up every so often at Cindy and her apparent charms. In the few seconds it took for the room to become aware that Charlotte had entered, she’d seen more than enough to know she should not have arrived early. Indeed, judging by what was going on, her presence hadn’t been expected.

Reid was the first to notice her, since Jack was looking down at his phone. He nudged Jack and tapped Cindy on the ass. It took the woman a moment to realise this wasn’t the come on she was after, but a warning that company had arrived. She narrowed her eyes at her competition just as Jack looked up and locked eyes with Charlotte.

“Char,” he jumped up from the couch and walked toward her, “you’re early.”

“Clearly.” She bit out at him without taking her eyes from his face. “What the fuck is that?” she gestured toward Cindy.

“Oh, that’s just Cindy being Cindy.”

“Really, so Cindy is a groupie, as well as a PR rep? Does she even do PR, or does she just give blow jobs in return for a bit of press for the band?”

“What did you say, you stuck up cow?”

“Fuck you, Cindy.” Charlotte said pleasantly as she turned and walked out of the room. “Fuck you, too, Jack.”

She heard Reid shout, “What about me?” from the room behind her as Jack followed her through the door.

“Come on, Char, it’s not what you think.”

“I’m not that stupid, Jack—I did see you were more engrossed in your phone than in her ass.” She stormed toward the parked car and clicked the button to unlock the doors. “But really? You can’t do any better than that? With the money you earn, you can’t get anyone who will keep their bloody clothes on?” She slipped into the driver’s seat and he had no choice but to hop in on the other side. “I’m in shock. I cannot believe that your bandmates are doing drugs so blatantly, and where the
fuck
did Fergus put his pants?” She shot the car out of the parking lot and joined the traffic heading out of town.

“You don’t want to know about his pants. I’m sorry you had to see that. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t. I don’t ever want to see you rehearse. I also never ever want you to put me in the same room with Cindy. If you’re having a function and she’s invited, I will stay home.”

“I thought you’d rather keep an eye on her.”

“I’ve seen enough of her to last me a lifetime.” She glanced sideways as she drove. “Do I need to keep an eye on her, Jack?”

“Of course not. I didn’t resist for three years just to give in now, did I?”

“Fair enough. Where are we meant to be going, anyway? I have to say, I’m not feeling like celebrating after that display.”

Jack put his hand out and covered hers on the gear stick. She was so angry she was sure she would start crying any moment, but she didn’t want him to think that it meant something other than her being absolutely furious at what she’d seen.

“I’m really sorry, Char. I promise it won’t happen again. Pull in and let me drive.”

She turned down a side street and brought the car to a stop. He moved to take her hand again, but she was out of the car before he could grab it. Instead, he met her part way around the car and put his arms around her as she struggled. “Don’t, Jack. I’m not in the mood. We can be fake in love some other time.”

“Char,” he said her name so quietly that she looked up at him. His fingers reached up to cup her chin and his mouth was tantalisingly close to hers. Charlotte didn’t want to be in his arms; she wanted to go home, go to bed, and cry herself to sleep. The last few weeks had been full of ups and downs, and she was suddenly feeling exhausted at the thought of three more years of this. Three more years of pretending to be in love with him and of turning a blind eye to other women, even though she’d made him include the no sex clause in the contract. This wasn’t turning out like she’d thought it would, and they were only a couple of weeks in.

“We’re going to celebrate our success, okay? We’re going to put Cindy out of our minds and not think of her again, like you’ve made me do with the press. She doesn’t mean anything to me, I promise. Can you let it go, so I can take you out? I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”