☼ twenty-seven ☼

A bright, early morning sun filtered into the room, caressing my skin. I opened my eyes, squinted, stretched, and checked my cell, thinking there'd be messages from Axel—but he didn't have my phone number, only my email.

I dreamed of him creeping into my room, undressing me as I slept, apologizing to me with sex. Coating my skin in gentle, shivering kisses, waking me with his tongue.

But as my mind became more lucid, I knew that made no sense. I was the one who needed to apologize to him, and I'd likely never get the chance to.

I mindlessly scrolled through my social media, spotting leaked pictures of Violet's ceremony—of course, someone from the reception had sold pictures to tabloids and magazines within seconds of the party ending. No matter the NDA's signed and the paperwork Violet had had to weed through; it was bound to happen.

Thankfully, the pictures were tasteful, and there was no word of how the wedding had almost been canceled, ruined by the terrible weather. Only comments of how beautiful and happy Violet looked, how dashing Reece was, how cohesive the entire ceremony seemed from the pictures alone.

"Well, these reviews won't get me fired, at least," I said, heaving myself up from the bed.

The brunch wasn't until ten o'clock, giving me some time to shower, relax, and get ready before one last round of intense socializing. Though technically, my job was done, Violet had begged me to show up for the brunch, as a final thank you for all my hard work.

At this point, I wasn't sure anyone would be at the brunch, with all the alcohol consumed the night before. Chi had texted me in the middle of the night to tell me almost every bottle was drained, and there was little to no food leftover from the buffet.

Did that make the event a success? I gritted my teeth as I turned on the shower, pondering this. If guests had loitered until the end of the night, draining the resources, dancing until their feet were in pain, it usually meant something had gone right.

But none of them had any clue how much had gone wrong behind the scenes.

I stripped, entering the hot tub with a hiss. The liquid scorching my skin was like a wake-up call, reminding me I'd be going home soon, getting away from the drama I'd caused. My flight was the next day, since I'd planned to stay behind to help with cleaning up and ensuring guests were satisfied. Also, to cash in my last check from Axel.

If he decided to pay me.

As much as I loved France, I was eager to get home. France was my home, but time spent there often guzzled up all my energy, brought to light how truly American I'd become. I hadn't lived in the country for a long time, and everything I loved as a teen I no longer loved as an adult.

When I was abroad, I missed the crowded, lofty L.A. avenues, the stifling sun and smog, the laid-back Pacific vibe I now considered a part of me. And my cozy studio with all its quirks—the malfunctioning washing machine, the never-working elevator, the living room with its view on an alley where I often witnessed interesting scenes between homeless people and sex-workers. It was a fix-up of a spot, in a not-well reputed side of town—but it was home to me.

It wasn't the opulent suite Axel occupied at the hotel. It didn't have the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Gulf of St. Tropez and its beauty. And in truth, I was relieved of that. All the luxury, the decadence, it wasn't me. No matter how richly I dressed, I didn't belong in those circles of fortune and pride.

After toweling off, blow-drying my hair, and dabbing some concealer under my eyes, I pulled on a pair of slacks and a simple jacket, no shirt underneath. I presumed I'd come back to change into my bathing suit once the brunch was done. I already knew there wouldn't be much clean-up since so much of what I'd planned didn't come to fruition, anyway.

As I drew my hair into a chignon, I opted against lathering on too much makeup. I had no one to impress, and the press had already reported the wedding and displayed all the pictures, so my job was more or less over.

Yet I almost considered sitting down in front of the mirror anyway, to waste as much time as possible before having to attend the brunch. I dreaded going, plastering on a smile when I felt like shit. And I dreaded bumping into Axel, since that tended to happen at every event that weekend.

I hoped he wouldn't go, deciding to stay in his suite. Or maybe he'd already flown back to New York City, having accomplished what he'd come for. Violet was married, and he could send my final bill to my firm's address, no contact needed.

If he was at the brunch, there'd be no way to avoid an awkward situation. As good as he was at acting, would he be able to fake through this? Act like we hadn't had an argument out on the balcony, with him stomping off to never speak to me again?

And with how he'd stomped off, it wouldn't surprise me if someone had witnessed the scene.

Would they detect the awkwardness between Axel and I today, and spread the word, gossip about it, report it to the paparazzi back home?

A knock came from the door, followed by the door opening. I stilled, my eyes widening at my reflection before slowly turning towards the arrival.

I feared it was Axel. Who else would have a key to my room but the owner of the hotel?

To my relief, it was Chi who entered, waving the keycard with a weak smile. "You probably forgot you made sure the front desk gave me a copy of your room key," they said, closing the door behind them. "I worried you were still asleep, so that's why I let myself in."

"I'm awake," I said, returning to the mirror, pressing my hands into my cheeks and stretching my skin. "Wide awake and exhausted all at once."

"Did you sleep?" Chi plopped onto the bed, their naturally silky strands of dark hair cascading on either side of their face.

"Enough," I said, opting to sprinkle some powder over my shiny face. Shiny from nervous perspiration or humidity, I couldn't tell, but I didn't want to stand out. Today, I wanted to become part of the crowd and be completely ignored.

"Okay, spill." Chi got up and stood behind me, massaging my shoulders. "What happened last night? You seemed well enough before the ceremony, weirdly relaxed even. But then later you went out for air and came back messed up. You looked lost, as if you'd entered the wrong location or something. I haven't seen you like that since..."

"...since that night at Olivia's party thing. Yeah, how could I forget?" I shuddered at the memory—the star-studded grand opening of Olivia's makeup shop in downtown Los Angeles. The night Olivia and I had discussed taking a break, but Olivia still expected me to show up to support her.

That night, in that vast venue, I didn't belong. I didn't want to belong. I'd wandered around the room like a deer in headlights. Chi was there, blending in with ease, as they always did; but there'd been no hope for me. I was in a haze, flustered, angry.

"So, what's going on?" Chi's hands felt so good on my tense shoulders that I allowed myself to close my eyes. "You said something about a disagreement with Axel...did he go outside with you? Is that why he didn't come back?"

I opened one eye to study Chi in the mirror; they winced. "After I left, did he ever return?"

Chi shook their head. "No. And I watched, just in case. I wouldn't dare confront him, but I was going to observe his behavior, you know? But he never showed." They dug their thumbs into my clavicle. "Speak up, girl. You're tense as fuck. What did he do?"

I snorted. "It's more like what I did, but I don't want to talk about it."

"It's about all the sex, right?" I gasped, and Chi pressed their fingers harder into my shoulders to silence me. "I know, but no one else suspects, don't worry. Maisie still thinks she has an opportunity with him, and the other bridesmaids basically faint in his presence. Anyway, that's what this is about, yeah? Too much of it? Not enough? Was he," Chi giggled, "too kinky for your vanilla-ass self?"

I smacked their hands away and shot up from the chair. "Shut up. Should we go, then? I want to get this over with, and I'm starving."

Despite being desperate to learn more, Chi promised not to push, and arm in arm, we took the service stairs up to the second-floor restaurant.

I would normally show up early for something like this, but I hadn't organized it; Axel did. It was a relief to arrive and not be expected to verify and fine-tune all the details.

Regular hotel guests were there, enjoying late breakfasts. A few of the wedding attendees had showed up, most of them hunched over big cups of coffee, speaking into their plates of eggs and greasy bacon. Men wore baseball hats and kept their chins low; women were folded in half in their seats, their heads laying on the table beside their meals.

On any other day, I would have chortled at the vision—but my job was to be respectable, to assist where needed, even if I was technically off the clock. So, I checked on a few tables, ensuring the guests had received what they needed.

After being met with more groans than responses, I gave up and joined Chi at a corner table, isolated from everyone else. One guest occupied the table nearest us, but with his arms folded and his body slumped into his chair, he appeared to be sleeping. His face was hidden under his baseball hat, and I could have sworn I heard him snore.

Must be one of the groomsmen.

Shrugging, I dropped into my chair, ordered coffee and a scramble, and fixed my gaze on the window. No one would have ever guessed a raging storm had blown through this paradise, nearly destroying the charming St. Tropez area. How devastated I would have been if the flood had been more dangerous, if the rain hadn't stopped in time before drowning everything.

"I heard the downstairs is pretty swept up now," said Chi, sipping on their mimosa. If they'd drank as much as everyone else—and I was quite certain they had—they didn't suffer the same hangover nightmares. They were vibrant, energetic as always, radiating with positivity. "But it wasn't super safe to use the equipment yet, so it was best to keep the brunch up here."

I knew that last fact—I'd gotten a message from one of the hotel staff informing me of this in the early hours of the morning, before I woke up. It'd been a part of the back-up plan, for the employees to keep me in the loop regarding what locations were safe to use and which weren't. I was grateful they'd notified me, and not only Axel—because then he'd have had to let me know. Awkward.

"Many of the volunteers are neighbors or friends of Mr. Levine's," Chi continued, not accepting my silence. "People he's helped over the years and donated money to. They showed up to help, and he didn't actually call them."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course he didn't." I brought my hot cup to my lips and let the coffee steam coat my skin. "He's a fucking dream boy who uses his wealth properly and has a heart of gold and everyone loves him."

"Hey." Chi leaned forward and smacked my wrist. "What the hell is going on with you? Talking about the owner like that, in public? What the fuck did he do to you, huh?" They narrowed their gaze on me, their usually warm eyes turning glacial. "You were all about propriety and politeness when we got here, and now you're the unhinged one?"

I couldn't tell Chi the truth; that I'd been this close to having more than casual sex with Axel. This close to entering his world, a world I feared, a world I didn't truly want to be associated with, but would have, for him. I couldn't tell Chi that behind closed doors Axel was so dreamy, so generous, so sweet. That the more I slept with him, the more I wanted to know more about him, more than how he screamed when coming and how big his penis was.

Admitting to Chi that I'd fucked it all up, that I'd had one shot and missed, would show my defeat, my weakness. And I didn't want to unravel like that. I didn't want to admit that I'd wanted more from Axel, more with Axel, and that I'd been in denial more or less since the night we met.

"Ah," Chi said, with a slow nod, a thin-lipped smile. "I get it."

"Do you?" My voice came out as a squeak, and I took a sip of scalding java to calm myself. The liquid burned down my throat, and I frowned.

"I know you, Vivi." Chi patted my hand, switching to a loud whisper. "You were developing feelings for him, weren't you? Maybe even falling, though I think it might be too soon for that, for you. But the sex became more than sex, and being locked up with him so much, it shifted things, huh?"

I wanted to yell at Chi for speaking of this out in the open, but no one was paying us any heed. Near us was only the table with the sleeping man, his back turned to us. And nothing short of a baseball bat to the rear of the head would rouse this guy from his heavy slumber.

And in any case, Chi was one hundred percent accurate.

"And the disagreement was because he doesn't feel the same way, huh?" Chi's palm was warm and soothing, cupping over my cold knuckles. "Your feelings aren't reciprocated."

"Aren't they?" said a voice from nearby—a voice eerily resembling Axel's, with that deep lilt, that raspy groan.

A voice coming from the half-dead figure I'd assumed to be passed out at the table nearby.

Confirming my suspicions, the man straightened up, stood, and spun to reveal himself as Axel.

How I hadn't recognized him was beyond me; but I should have. And I gulped at the full sight of him.

He removed his hat, divulging his slitted eyes, his bunched lips, the tension across his forehead.

"Oh, shit," said Chi, fumbling to their feet, gaping at Axel as if he'd appeared by magic. "Shit, sir, I'm so sorry—"

Axel flinched, waving at Chi. "Could you give us a minute?"

Without another word, Chi zipped off to the bar, likely to order another mimosa, and possibly one for me, too.

Axel fell into their vacated seat, and steepled his hands atop the table. "Clearly, we still have much to talk about."

☼☼☼

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top