Page 105 of The Bitter Words

I still speak to Gia, but her career is growing and she’s landed a couple of movie roles. She’s always busy.

The only people I interact with are stylists and manufacturing contacts. I have a team of people helping with my brand, marketing, website, and that side of my company, but none of them are close friends.

I’m not equipped for Callum’s return, especially since he’s a mess.

“Fuck him to hell!” I can’t deal with this kind of heartbreak on top of everything else.

The stress is too damn hard. I need to find a way to deal with him without a care in the world.

A thought comes to mind. I grab my phone out of my purse and send a text to the only guy who can give me what I need.

Me:Hi, Marco. Long time no see. I’m going to be in Malibu and was wondering if you have time to meet up. I’d love to get some of your therapeutic advice.

Marco my wizard:Hey, hey, tiny. It’s been a while. You looking for the usual or something different?

Me:Your normal wisdom will do.

Marco my wizard:When and where should I expect you?

Me:On the pier in two hours?

Marco my wizard:You can count on it.

I run into my closet, change into jeans and a white low-cutform-fitting shirt, and grab my big black bag. I march out to my bedroom and switch out the contents of my work purse to the new one.

It’ll be easier to conceal the items I’m buying in the bigger one. I leave down the front staircase and snag my black leather jacket out of the closet.

There’s no way I’m staying in this house with Callum ready to ambush me. If they think I’m sticking around for that, they’re all crazy.

I open the front door and holler, “Bye. I’ll be back later tonight. No need to wait up for me.”

“Where are you going?” My mom pokes her head through the opening of the formal dining room.

“To meet up with a friend. I’m staying out late.” I slam the door and hurry to my car.

Callum comes running out right as I’m backing out of my space. “Lily, wait!”

I flip the car into drive and make a sharp turn. I speed down the lane that leads to the front gates without even peeking in the rearview mirror.

Who does he think he is?

I’m not going back to him. Not now, not ever again.

I blare the rock station as I work my way through traffic. As soon as a Mayhem song comes on, I flip it to a pop station.

I seethe until I get to the pier and take care of my troubles with Marco. My business with him lasts for all but ten minutes.

Once we separate, I mosey down the beach. I find a place to sit in the sand and pretend to be looking inside my bag, but really, I take a fingernail full of coke and snort it.

A few minutes pass, and I’m more in control and much happier than I was before this trip was needed.

The sun is setting and it’s beautiful. I peer out at the ocean, trying to figure out a way to get out of California.

A tall, muscular man wearing nicely tailored jeans and alight gray zip-up jacket strolls into my line of sight and glances my way.

He has sunglasses on and a short beard, but it’s clear he’s drop-dead handsome. He looks like he just stepped off the front cover of Esquire magazine. I check him out from head to toe.

Wow, is he built! And those chiseled cheekbones and jawline make me want to lick his face all over.