“I’m sorry I am late. I hope I look OK,” she whispers, as her hands smooth out her dress and she begins to fiddle with the ends of her hair.
Smiling, I pull her close and breathe her in. Her rose-scented shampoo is like a drug. Calming me. Flooding my veins with peace now that she’s back in my arms. I lightly kiss her head, and whisper, “You look amazing.” Pulling back, I take her face in my hands. Lightly kissing her lips, I stop myself from deepening the kiss. I want nothing more than to say fuck this night and all the people in it, take her to my room and fuck her senseless until the sun comes up. But I can’t.
But Rochelle has other plans. Her tongue teases the seam of my mouth. I taste mint on her breath as she grabs my waist and crushes her body against my chest. My hands fist her hair. I nip at her bottom lip and finally release her. Kissing the tip of her nose, I pull my keys from my pocket and step outside. Closing the door and locking up, I grab her hand and lead her toward the parking garage.
“Hunter,” her scared voice makes me slightly panic. “What if..”
I don’t give her time to finish her sentence. Spinning around, I hold her still by her shoulders. “No, Rochelle. Don’t go there. There is no ‘what if.’ There is only me, and you, and that is all that matters. The rest of them can go to hell.”
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do or give to stop the self-doubt constantly running through her mind.
Whoever hurt her, whoever made her doubt herself so much, is lucky we’ve never met.
Chapter Seventeen
Rochelle
Standing in the corner of a very elaborate Hollywood mansion, I grasp my club soda tighter as people waltz past me without a care in the world. Occasionally, their eyes drop on me, and I cower closer to the wall, hide in the shadows, pray Hunter hurries up his private meeting with Edward. A man I still haven’t met, and someone who makes me nervous just thinking about having to shake his hand.
My eyes dart around the room, quickly taking in a sight I have only seen on the big screen, and that includes many famous faces that turn and look at me, silently judging the wallflower in the corner and wondering who I am and what right I have to be standing in their presence.
Bringing my glass to my lips, I turn from the last pair of judgmental eyes, and bump into a woman who’s suddenly standing very close to me. I let out a slight gasp as I try and steady myself.
“You must be Rochelle?” The girl, who can’t be much older than myself, questions. She stares back at me with the first genuinely nice smile I have seen tonight.
“My name is Victoria,” she says, extending her hand. I hesitate for a moment before actually accepting it. “But everyone calls me Vickie. Just between you and I,” she whispers, pulling me closer and winking, “I hate it!”
I smile softly before pulling back. “Yes, I’m Rochelle. Nice to meet you, Victoria.”
Seeing that she said she hates her nickname, I use her full one in the hopes that I may be making my first friend this evening. She turns and surveys the crowd in front of us and I take that moment to admire the way she carries herself with a confidence I only wish was my own.
Her hair is brown like mine, and her eyes, although they have a hint of blue like mine, are more hazel in color. She is dressed in clothes I could never even dream of affording, and her face is flawless from the years of expert care from expensive products someone like myself would never own. Still, there is a familiarity about her, an ease that makes me feel like I can be myself, and so I open up for the first time with someone besides Hunter or Momma.
“I’m not used to these kinds of gatherings,” I confess. “I don’t mean to be rude standing in the corner, but I don’t really belong out there in the spotlight either.”
She sighs next to me and I worry I have said too much. “Girl, you and me both. I’m used to this sort of thing, but most of the time, I wish I’d never known what it feels like to be ‘in the spotlight,’ as you say.”
Surprised that she would say such a thing when she looks like a woman who would shine so bright if ever given the chance, I laugh, “Trust me, it isn’t all that better on the other side.”
“Oh, but I dream of it,” she sighs. “Which is why I don’t mind taking to the shadows,” she says, gesturing to the small space we have both escaped to. “Hope you don’t mind company.”
“Not at all,” I whisper, as our eyes both land back on the people in front of us. She lifts her glass of water to her lips and I instantly feel a connection to her, seeing as we’re both at a party and chose to forgo the expected alcoholic drink in our hands.
“So, where are you from, Rochelle?” She asks.
I look back her way and lock eyes with someone over her shoulder that I never wanted to see again. Victoria must see the frantic look in my stare because she turns and locks eyes with the blonde walking our way. Quickly, she turns back to me and rolls her eyes. “Oh hell, and here I was actually thinking I could avoid the bimbo for one night.”
My heart eases slightly from her comment right before my anxiety ticks up another notch when Tiffany stops in front of us. Hands on her hips, hateful stare directed only at me, she taps her heel a few times, her brow furrows, she viciously dissects me, making me wish I could run back to the safety of Hunter’s arms.
Speaking of which…
I look around her trying to find him. Her presence makes me wish more than before that he’d finally make an appearance, put me out of my misery, put Tiffany in her place, save me from her hateful looks, her awful comments, and the way just standing in the same room as her reminds me of everything I am not.
“What do you want, Tiff?” Victoria sighs annoyed.
“Hi, Vickie,” Tiffany says as my eyes survey the room, hopeful I’ll spot Hunter. My new friend lets out a groan at the mention of her hated nickname, before putting her hands on her hips like the woman in front of me. “Didn’t know your parents were now letting just anyone through the gates? This little one must be lost. We should throw her back with the strays that hang around just waiting for a glimpse of the rest of us. You know, people who actually matter.”
“The only people that actually matter here, Tiffany, are your father and mine, because hell if the tabloids haven’t had their fill of Paris Hilton wannabes.” Victoria sasses making me giggle. Tiffany actually looks shocked for a moment before turning her attention back to the business at hand. Which is getting me the furthest away from the family as possible.
