Up close, Charles Carter is smaller than he looks on the screen, but he’s every bit as handsome — and absolutelyterrifying.He has the kind of natural presence about him that makes it very easy to understand both the level of success he’s achieved, and the way that everyone who approaches our table does so with an almost apologetic air, as if they know they’re not worthy of being in this man’s presence, and are expecting to be sent away again at any second.
His wife, meanwhile, looks exactly like the former model she is, with high cheekbones and an expression which suggests she can smell something bad.
From what I can gather,Iseem to be the ‘something bad’.
“But Jett, darling, who is this girl?” she says, barely glancing in my direction, her Italian accent still noticeable even after all the years she’s been living in the States. “Whatever happened to our lovely Violet?”
I glance up at Jett curiously. Violet King was his first girlfriend — or the first famous one, anyway. They met on the set ofIslanders, and were together for a few years before Jett went abruptly off the rails and became a serial heart-breaker. Everyone says it was the pain of the break-up that did it. Well, all the gossip sites say that. And Shona McLaren, obviously, but that goes without saying.
“Now, Gabby, we’ve been through this,” Charles Carter says, taking his seat and placing a napkin on his knee with a flourish. “Violet left him, remember? This is the new girl. The one Asher found for us. I told you this already. Did you take too many Xanax again?”
He has one of those mid-Atlantic accents that old movie stars used to use. I’m having a really hard time trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s actuallyrealand sitting next to me.
“Oh, yes,” says Jett’s mother vaguely, taking her seat on his other side. Jett glances at me apologetically as he sits down too, and I shiver in spite of the warmth of the room. I can’t help but notice that although the two senior Carters have been takingaboutme, neither one of them has bothered to speaktome.
It’s as if they’ve taken one look at me and immediately seen right through the glossy facade I try to project to therealLexie underneath. The one whoisn’tactually more than just a pretty face, and who therefore isn’t really worthy of much notice, anyway.
Okay, now I feel like shit.
I guess it’s true what they say about being careful what you wish for.
If you’d asked me just a few weeks ago, I’d have said I’d have given anything to be here right now; at a glamorous, red-carpet event, surrounded by A-listers, and with People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive as my date. Literallyanything.
Now that I’m actually here, though, I would have to admit that I’m kind ofhatingit.
This is a plot-twist I wasn’t really expecting. I’ve always sold myself as a bit of a party girl. ‘Sexy Lexie’ isn’t just what the photographers outside have called me — it’s basically the image I’ve been trying to present to the world for as long as I can remember. Hot Girl Lexie. Good Time Girl Lexie. Destined for Great Things Lexie. I’ve played that part for so long now I’ve actually made myself believe it.
Deep down, though, I just… I’d rather be at home, reading a really good book, you know? With my hair in a messy bun, and wearing an over-sized sweatshirt and an ancient pair of leggings. Maybe with a cat or something for company.
Note to self: buy a cat.
Instead though, here I am, sitting ramrod-straight at the table, and nibbling politely on a piece of asparagus, because God knows, that’s all my shapewear is going to allow me to fit in. Well, that and the champagne I’ve been guzzling in a bid to steady my nerves and give myself something to do with my hands.
Jett and his dad spend the entire meal having an in-depth conversation about acting over the top of my head (both literally and figuratively), while Gabriella pointedly ignores everyone at the table, except Asher, who’s sitting on her left side, and surreptitiously checking his phone under the table.
I’m sitting between two of the most famous men in the world, and I feel completely invisible.
And then there’s that phone call from Scotland nagging away at the back of my mind.
I’m trying my best not to think about that, either.
Iwillthink about it, of course. Just… notnow. Not when I have so many other things to think about first. Like the fear that this corset thing isliterallygoing to kill me, for instance, and whether that really is Violet King whose glossy hair I can see on the other side of the room.
Picking up my champagne glass, I gulp down what’s left of the liquid inside it, feeling it go straight to my head.
“Lexie. Jett. We need to talk. Urgently.”
I’m so busy straining to look at the woman I think might be Jett’s best-known ex-girlfriend that I didn’t notice Asher leave his seat. Now, though, he’s crouched down between me and Jett, his phone in his hand and his brow furrowed.
Uh-oh.
“Not now, Asher,” Charles Carter interrupts, leaning over me as if I’m not there. “The speeches are just about to start. Whatever this is will need to wait.”
Asher opens his mouth to object, but clearly thinks better of it. Standing up, he hands me his phone, which is open to some website or other.
“Read that,” he says bluntly as he turns to go back to his seat. “Then come and find me once this is over so we can figure out what to do about it.”
Chapter 21
