Unravelled (Revealed #2) (11 page)

That was twice today I’d allowed my fucktard ex-boyfriend to infiltrate my thoughts. Blowing out a dismissive raspberry, I scrunched up my face in annoyance. I had already wasted enough of my life on him, he didn’t deserve to occupy one more second of my time. Although, due to the anxiety issues he’d left me with, he frequently did.

Blinking away the bitter feelings that always came with memories of him, I let out a long, calming breath and closed my eyes for a second to enjoy the sun. I was done for the day, so I could relax now. I still had no job, but right now I was so hot and bothered that I didn’t care.

Shrugging off my suit jacket, I carefully folded it before placing it on the grass beside me. My shirt was stuck to my back from the heat and I rolled my shoulders, trying to free the cotton from the rivulet of sweat running down my spine. Ugh. I needed to invest in some breathable shirts. Briefly wafting my blouse I enjoyed a cool breeze on my heated skin before pulling my bag onto my lap to check my phone.

Drawing back the zip I smiled when I saw a small Tupperware tub tucked inside one of the pouches. It must’ve been from Julie, one of the cooks at the hostel. Seeing as I’d been there over a month now I knew some of the staff quite well, and was quite close with Julie. She was a bit of a mother hen, and always spoilt me rotten when she could, saying I need fattening up.

Prying off the lid I grinned when I saw an orangey-coloured muffin coated in sticky, cream icing. If this was what I suspected – a carrot, walnut, and pumpkin seed muffin with butter cream topping – then it was my favourite from Julie’s baking range. Her vast baking range. Julie single-handedly kept the hostel café stocked with homemade cakes and biscuits, all of which I had sampled, and all of which were delicious.

Inside the lid was a small, star-shaped Post-it note with the words ‘Good luck with the job hunt! J x’ written on it in a curvy, wayward scrawl, the words now half obscured by some melted icing. Smiling to myself I poked my finger into the soft topping, popped it in my mouth, and immediately sighed with pleasure. That woman made the best vanilla butter icing I had ever tasted in my life, and it instantly made me feel better about my crazy Jack-and-job-hunt-filled day.

Who cared if I’d been mown down by a sexy film star and then failed to get a job because my mind had been so fuddled from it? Not me, not when I had this delicious muffin to distract me.

I was nearly finished with my muffin – which was acting as a very late, but delicious, lunch – when I felt my phone vibrate in my bag. Popping the last bite into my mouth, I licked my fingers clean as best I could and then pulled my mobile out.

Seeing a text from Allie, I only just managed to supress my squeal of delight as I forgot about my slightly sticky fingers and frantically opened up the folder to see what it said.

From: Allie

Hey you, change of plans, instead of meeting Sean I’m at your hostel. It’s a long story. See you when you get back. I’m turning this phone off now, if you need me my new number is 213 672 1243. A xx

Frowning, I immediately found my fingers moving to the elastic bands on my wrist, absently plucking them in concern before a sting of pain had me realising what I was doing.

Saving her new number, I stowed my phone back in my bag and stared out across the park thoughtfully. Why was she at my hostel? Not that I was complaining, I couldn’t wait to see Allie, but still … why the sudden change of plans? I couldn’t think of any good reasons why Allie would be staying at the hostel instead of with Sean, so kicking myself into gear, I pulled on my slightly sweaty socks with a grimace, donned my shoes, and set off to find out for myself.

Chapter Eleven

Allie

A skinny brunette sashayed her hips as she crawled over a naked, aroused, and moaning man. As she tossed her long hair over her shoulder I got a glimpse of not only her face, but the man’s too, and my heart just about stopped in my chest. Savannah.
And Sean
.

I wanted to move away, but I couldn’t. Instead I stood frozen to the spot, watching like some sick voyeur as long, tanned limbs entangled around sculpted muscles slick with sweat, and manicured fingernails clawed at reddened skin in the heat of passion. Sean allowed the attention on his body for a minute or so, before rolling Savannah over as he pinned her arms above her head and began to worship her stick-like body with his talented fingers and lips.

The hairs of his chest brushed her dark nipples, the peaks hardening further before he greedily sucked them into his mouth and then reared back to plunge his hot, hard length inside of her as they both groaned out their pleasure into the room …

‘Hey, sweetie, wake up.’

The voice caused my mind to move away from the sickening dreams as reality slowly began to filter in. ‘Allie? Wake up, babe.’ I became aware of hands on my shoulders shaking me awake, causing the sick fantasies to evaporate as the battered mattress below me once again began poking me with its aged springs.

It was just a dream. Ugh. But a horribly vivid one. Swallowing hard, I sucked in a breath as I tried to force their remnants from my mind’s eye. At least I
hoped
it was just a dream. Ugh. Swallowing down the urge to throw up, I pushed the lingering images of Savannah to the side of my mind as I felt the soft, warm hand on my shoulder give another gentle shake.

‘Allie, are you awake? Too much sleep will make your jet lag worse,’ the familiar voice informed me as I blinked my bleary eyes. It took me a second or two for my stomach to stop churning and I breathed in several deep, cleansing breaths to try and speed up the process. Drawing in another breath, I opened my eyes wide, rubbed a hand over my face, and slowly sat up, immediately banging my head on the bunk above me and wincing.

‘Ugh … actually, we might already be a bit late. Crikey, you look rough,’ Cait said from beside me, her head cocked curiously as she examined me with a searching look so amusing that it managed to elicit a small, dry chuckle from me. Gingerly rubbing at my bruised head, I tried to smooth down my bed hair, my fingers becoming tangled in the long strands until I gave up and limply dropped my arms back into my lap with a heavy sigh.

‘Hi, Cait.’ My voice was croaky and sore from the tears I’d cried earlier, which as well as giving me a dodgy throat had probably made me look pretty dreadful too. I’d fallen into a troubled slumber with tears rolling from my eyes before I’d had a chance to wash off my make up or sort myself out, so I no doubt looked like death warmed up at the moment.

‘Well, my initial urge was to leap around gleefully because you’re finally here … but having got a look at you, I’m reconsidering. You look like you might snap in half if I so much as hug you,’ she said, still analysing me as if I were some curious and newly discovered specimen. ‘So … why do you look so wretched, and why are you here? At the hostel, I mean.’

She didn’t beat around the bush, did she? I’d barely woken up, and I was facing an inquisition already. Mind you, I couldn’t blame Cait; I would be just as curious if I had found her in the state I was in.

‘I thought you were staying with Sean,’ she added thoughtfully.

Sean. I hated how pathetic the mere mention of him made me, but no sooner had Cait uttered that name than I let out a low groan and felt my bottom lip begin to tremble. I wasn’t usually much of a crier, so this complete loss of control over my tear ducts today was decidedly annoying.

With an impatient grunt I stood up and ran my hands almost violently over my face to try and snap myself out of my wretched state. ‘It’s a long story,’ I said. ‘Well … long-ish,’ I corrected. In actuality, it wasn’t so long at all, was it? Sean was engaged to his co-star – or some peculiar set up where in the eyes of the world he was, anyway – and I wasn’t prepared to be a part of it. That summary made it seem quite a short story. Not to mention bone-jarringly depressing.

Shaking away my dark thoughts, I stepped toward Cait’s slim, lithe frame and pulled her into a fierce hug. I did this for two reasons: firstly, I desperately needed the comfort of a hug, but secondly, it was a good way to break eye contact and stop her giving me such a penetrating assessment. The familiar smell of my best friend’s perfume was infinitely reassuring though, and I felt a little of my usual spunk returning as her warmth seeped into my chilled body. There were many good reasons why this girl was one of my best friends, and her quiet composure and strength in times of need was one of them.

‘I don’t suppose there’s a good bar around here, is there? I could do with drowning my sorrows and using you as a sounding post.’

Leaning back, I watched Cait as she observed me with narrowed eyes. Her gaze was full of curiosity and unasked questions, and I could tell she was trying to work out what was going on but was just too polite to force it. Being quite a private person, Cait never needlessly pried into other people’s business, but I could see that even she was tempted to push me and ask me to spill the beans. The problem was, there was a high chance that I was going to cry, and the only way to lessen that possibility was to get a bit of liquid courage inside me first.

Seeing my resolute features, she finally relented and nodded. ‘As a matter of fact, there is. I could use a drink too, I’ve had a pretty crazy day myself.’ Before I could ask why, Cait glanced at her watch and then grinned. ‘And if we hurry we’ll catch the start of happy hour. We’ll need to smarten up, though, it’s a pretty exclusive place.’ Snorting out a laugh, she rolled her eyes, ‘Mind you, this is LA, they’re all pretty exclusive places!’

Smart clothes … right, I could do that. Swivelling back to my suitcase, I whipped the zip around and dug about for my wash bag and a suitable change of clothes, quickly selecting a navy, knee-length cocktail dress with a pattern of tiny white flowers and a pair of blue heels. I loved this dress, and it should be more than appropriate for a night of drinking in a posh establishment. ‘Let me freshen up, I must look a right state.’

‘Hmmm,’ was Cait’s thoughtful response as she obviously continued to try and work out exactly why I was a soggy, tear-stained mess, but I left her hanging. She’d know the whole sordid story soon enough, so it may as well be when I was looking a bit more refreshed and had a strong drink in my hand.

When I arrived back from a quick wash, I found Cait had changed into a smart pair of black trousers, a teal, long-sleeved top, and some funky high heels as she stood beside one of the wooden lockers, nodding happily.

‘It took a bit of effort, but I managed to fit your case in,’ she announced proudly, jerking her chin at a locker which was now crammed full of my belongings. ‘It’s almost embarrassing, Allie, no self-respecting traveller brings a bloody suitcase. You need a backpack.’

I felt like making a comment about the fact that probably not many ‘real’ backpackers would be carrying a pair of designer high heels like the ones she was wearing, but I kept quiet. Seeing how Cait was usually so reserved and nervous around men she never really got that dressed up or exposed much skin, so it was nice to see her wearing the flashy shoes. Besides, the suitcase was hardly my fault, I hadn’t exactly been intending on doing too much moving around.

But instead of mentioning any of this, I just rolled my eyes and chucked my wash bag and discarded clothes on top of the case before sliding a coin in the locker slot and slamming the door shut.

‘Whatever. We haven’t all been swanning around the world for the best part of three years like you, Cait,’ I retorted with a grin, linking my hand around her elbow and turning for the door. It was time to escape the Hollywood Heartbreaker’s Hangout, even if just for a few hours.

‘This bar does the best cocktails,’ Cait said as our high-heeled feet clicked off the main drag of Hollywood Boulevard and onto what seemed to be a residential side street. Walking a few more steps, I realised we were approaching what could only be described as a very eccentric wooden house. It didn’t look much like a bar at first either, but as we got closer I saw it was adorned with fairy lights and complete with cherry red leather Chesterfield couches on either side of the front steps.

My eyebrows rose significantly. Blimey. What a quirky place – a beautiful, retro-looking building, complete with bay windows that reminded me of the Victorian-style houses I loved at home. It almost looked like part of a film set, a view further enhanced when I saw the sign displaying its name: No Vacancy.

‘Wow … this place is incredible,’ I murmured, my mind momentarily distracted from thoughts of my problems as we walked through the front door and entered the beautiful, wood-panelled entryway. There were a few other customers inside, loitering around the bar or seated in one of the various groups of plush sofas, but seeing as it was still early, the bar was empty enough for me to easily gaze around in awe.

‘I thought you’d like it. I know you love a bit of history.’ Leading me towards the bar, Cait slid a cocktail menu towards me and climbed up onto one of the tall, red leather bar stools. She sat with a rod-straight back, as always, and looked every bit as elegant as her surroundings in her fancy shoes, with her chestnut hair flowing down her back.

‘Apparently Charlie Chaplin used to own this place when it was just a home.’

Cait was pointing to a part of the menu that had the history of the bar on it, but I got side-tracked by a sore-looking patch of skin on her thumb. ‘Hey, what’s this?’ I asked, my protective tone immediately coming to the surface.

Pausing in her conversation, I saw Cait glancing down at her thumb and cringing at the trace of blood on the poor skin around the nail. Damn it, I’d thought she’d stopped this habit.

Back when things with her ex had started to get weird, Cait had begun to subconsciously pick her thumbs so much that they’d been red raw, even bleeding on occasion, like today. One day at school we’d been in the staffroom and I’d noticed and tentatively commented on it., sShe hadn’t confessed her exact worries, but I’d guessed it had been to do with her then- boyfriend, Greg. He was a manipulating bastard –, worse than manipulative, – and I’d hated him from the start.