Once downstairs, I find Joel parked opposite the circular drive. As I approach, he reads my ready-for-war expression, his eyes dancing down my armor as he holds open the wrong door. Shaking his head with a grin, he closes the back passenger door and opens the front before I slide into the car. He lingers there as I buckle in, knowing I’m none too happy with him, which he clearly finds amusing.
“Don’t be angry with me.”
“I’m not.”
His smile broadens. “You’re a stunning liar, and to be frank, he’s going to shit himself when he sees you in that dress. It’s the perfect choice.”
Unable to help it, my eyes soften. “Thank you.”
“Natalie,” he sighs, gripping the top of the door. “He may seem entitled at times—and maybe he even acts like it, but he’s tried since he’s become aware not to be.”
“I hear you, and I know that about him, but let him defend himself, okay?”
Joel nods and lingers a bit longer. I can tell he wants to speak up again on Easton’s behalf, but he shuts the door instead.
Deciding to keep Joel out of our newly declared war, I ride in silence to the hotel feeling the restless energy bouncing off his frame. He’s nervous for Easton, or for me—probably both. Either way, this is our battle, and he’s respecting the boundaries. When we reach the hotel, the valet beats Joel to the door. I grab his hand and thank him as Joel joins me and walks me toward the entrance while I mentally go over my battle plan, which is straightforward—to enjoy myself.
It’s the best revenge.
Walking around like a forlorn and lust-sick puppy isn’t going to do me any favors. Reacting to his tantrum and giving him the attention he wants won’t either. If he’s intent on forcing me to a party, that’s precisely what I intend to do, party. Joel stops just outside the door of the hotel. “Just give your name at the door. I’ll let them know you’re on your way up.”
Swallowing, I look up at the towering skyscraper. “You’re not coming?”
“I’ll be around if you need me,” he assures with a wink before heading back toward the idling SUV.
So, the asshole’s not even going to allow me my only ally? It’s clear he wants me vulnerable. He’s probably enjoying every second of this.
Game on, rock star.
Get Down, Make Love
Nine Inch Nails
Natalie
The thump of bass vibrates heavily at my feet as I step out of the elevator. Slightly shaky on my stilettos, I amble down a long but highly decorated hall full of expensive art. At the end of it—just outside a set of massive double doors—stand two equally massive security guards.
“Natalie Butler,” I announce to both the intimidating gatekeepers, the first of which is standing next to a clothing rack full of small plastic bags. He holds out his hand for my clutch, extending the other while proffering a red ticket.
“It’s just my wallet and phone,” I open my clutch for him to view.
“You can keep the wallet, but no phones or cameras tonight.”
It’s then I realize the rack is full of confiscated cellphones.
“Um…I’m with…” I feel the heat creep up my neck, “Easton. I’m a guest of his.”
“As is everyone else inside. No exceptions.”
Bile climbs up my throat as he gives me a brief sweep, full of judgment. I mentally hear the smack of his gavel and read the ‘she thinks she’s special’ look in his eyes as he glances over at the second guard.
Just like that, offense fills me as the hypocrite in me takes a huge bite of humble pie. I vow to never again mentally berate another woman for vying for the attention of my beautiful, talented rock star or any other in his company. Reason being, that every minute before now, I’ve been heavily adrift in a similar boat with no intention of looking for land.
Even if I do know Easton personally, I can easily relate to the appeal from a distance and know I would be filled with an equal desire to get closer.
Slapping my phone unnecessarily hard into his hand, he cocks a brow. “I don’t have enough time to talk sense into stupid, but you can take that judgmental look and shove it up your ass, pal.” I snap. “I have a degree and a penchant for writing from which I make my living. Which means I can pay my own fucking bills. I can also cook a five-course meal and change a flat tire. I even have my own set of power tools. And while I can do all of that, I can also embrace my femininity, rock this dress, these heels, and enjoy the feel of both while I feast on the dick of any worthy man of my choosing.” I step up to the asshole who put me on the offensive with a mere look, “But I assure you, any man I kneel for will be intelligent enough to understand why I’m doing it.”