“You’ve changed,” she spits out like it’s an insult.
“Look. We’re over—super over. Like do not pass go or collect 200 dollars over.” Her face pulls in horror. I stand, picking up steam. “Don’t contact me again…”
“You’re gonna miss me,” she threatens defiantly
“I’ve lived seven months without you. I won’t miss you at all. I sleep better. My days are peaceful. I was free to meet a woman who Ireallylike. Thank you for leaving me for someone richer. Now, get the fuck out.”
On cue, Paulo appears with security.
“Come on, Ma’am. Let me give you a ride.”
“You cruel asshole!” she yells, ensuring she makes a big scene at my office as she is taken away. “You will pay.”
I stand at the door to watch her leave. I’m so happy she’d left the way she did—in the middle of the night with all the money from my wallet and a black card to boot. I knew she was flaky, but I thought I could ground her—calm her down. I was wrong. All she wanted to do was party and fuck, in that order. She was the reason I’d become so popular with the paparazzi.
Side effect? Confronting her makes me ache for Heaven. I need to find her. I pack up and leave for the day.
My focus is ruined.
Axel
It’s midnight. The world outside is black, yet I can hear the waves crashing against the shore. The sound usually calms me, but tonight, it intensifies my headache.
Where is she?
I push my laptop aside. Hours of searching garnered the same results. I sigh long and deep. I refuse to get another drink. Instead, I turn on the television and sink into bed. I’ll let some mindless movie dull my mind until I fall asleep.
I leave the television on the first thing it finds. It’s the prom scene fromShe’s All That. I remember this movie. I used to have a thing for the lead actress with the big eyes and pouty lips. She was cute even when they were trying to make her undesirable. How did the guys not see it? What’s her name? It’s crazy that I’d gone from being obsessed with her to gripping to remember her name. It starts with a R for sure.
Giving up, I tap the info button on the remote. Ah, that’s right. Racheal Leigh Cook. Her name rolls around in my mind. Hmmm, there’s something about it that feels important. I say it out loud.
“Racheal Leigh Cook.” My skin prickles and heart race. I dive for my phone. “LEIGH! Fucking L E I G H!”
Why in the hell did I not consider other spellings of her last name? My Facebook loads entirely too slow.
“Why in the hell do I pay for high-speed internet!” I grumble in the dark.
Okay, I’m exaggerating. My internet is fine; I’m just eager to find her. I search Heaven Leigh and filter by people. My eyes devour the images, and thank fuck, she’s the fourth profile. I click on it and smile as I click through all of her photos in her “Hawaii” album. I’m disappointed when I can’t find any we’d taken together but then again, I haven’t posted any pictures at all.
I move to the messenger. I smile when I see a green dot.
“She’s on.”
Reinhold Bear:I’m glad you’re awake
Seen Jul 20
I wait five minutes for a response.
Reinhold Bear:Are you ignoring me, Heaven?
Heaven Leigh:I don’t talk to strangers.
Reinhold Bear:Darling, I’m far from a stranger.
Heaven Leigh:I’ll be the judge of that. Who are you? State your case quickly or you will be blocked.
Reinhold Bear:Fine, give me a minute.
