“The headlines tomorrow aren’t going to be pretty.”
She snorts. “They never are, when they’re about me.”
“But—”
She looks up at me. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about my reputation, it’s about bringing attention to the cause. If I have to look like an idiot in the process, so be it. I’ve looked like an idiot ever since I got into this industry at thirteen. I may as well raise some money while I do it.”
I snap my mouth shut. She makes it through two more interviews before she starts wavering on her feet. Glen grabs at her before she trips and falls, pulling her into his body.
“Okay,” he says softly. “We need to go, lass. You’re barely making sense.”
This time she doesn’t argue, letting us bundle her out of the event and towards the car. Paparazzi spread across the road, shouting at her, snapping pictures. I scowl at them, but she ignores them all, keeping her head high until Kenta pushes her gently into the backseat. The driver starts the car, and she slumps back against the leather upholstery as we pull away from the street.
Before we even hit the road, Glen’s phone rings. He picks it up, then winces. “Hi, Mrs Chen,” he says. I close my eyes. Nin. “Yes, I did hear what happened. I’m very sorry. She’s… having a bad day.” He glances at Briar, who seems to shrink into herself. “Oh, no, I’m sure she wouldn’t do that. Please don’t cry. Yes, I’ll speak to her, if that’s what you want. But really, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
He spends the rest of the ride soothing Nin while we all sit in awkward silence. When he finally hangs up, Briar rubs a hand over her face. Her cheeks are bright red.
“Jesus. Look. Can you bring her to the house?”
I startle. “What?”
“The house. I want to talk to her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kenta starts.
She shrugs. “Fine. I’ll go drop in on her, then.”
“You will not,” I growl. “You’re goinghome.”
She wilts a bit, like she’s too tired to argue the point. “We can Skype, I guess. I need to apologise to her. I’d rather do it face to face.”
The car pulls up in her driveway, and we flank her as she stumbles back inside her house. She kicks off her high heels, slips out of Glen’s jacket, then holds out her hand to me. “Her number, please.”
I frown. “If you’re just calling her to take it out on her some more—”
Her eyes flash. “Give. Me. Her. Number.”
I sigh, texting the contact details to her. She thanks me quietly, then heads into her bedroom and shuts the door.
Sixteen
Briar
?
After I hang up the phone, I just sit in my bed, stewing.
I feel awful. Absolutely awful. Matt was right: I acted like a spoiled little rich bitch, today. I hurt someone.
I sigh, leaning back against the headboard. The medication I took feels thick and clunky in my veins, fogging up my thoughts. I’ve got a throbbing headache, and I just want to go to sleep. But Ican’tsleep, because I can’t handle being in this room anymore. I rub the back of my neck, my skin prickling, and let my eyes jump between the shadows, checking the wardrobe, and the bathroom door, and the bookshelves.
There’s a light tap on the door. Glen sticks his head in, running his eyes around the room. “Just on my rounds.” He turns to me, noting my red eyes. “Oh, sweetheart.”
“I’m not a sweetheart,” I mutter, guilt choking me. “I’m a total bitch.”
I did what I could to apologise to Nin. I even asked one of my lawyers to help chase up her child maintenance arrears. But I can’t really properly apologise, because I still don’t knowwhat the Hell happened.
I think back to the moment when she knocked over the bottle. It was a split-second reaction—one minute I was fine, and the next, I was possessed. The sudden lightning bolt of fear that flooded through me scared the shit out of me. Even thinking about it makes my breathing pick up. I close my eyes and take a few steadying breaths. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
