Reading Online Novel

Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(197)



Sasha reached for her phone. She flicked it on and the comforting glow of technology lit her bedroom. She scrolled through her list of contacts until she got to the number of Kelly, the editor of Atomic Magazine.

Kelly had tried to milk the whole sex tape scandal. She’d even promoted Sasha after it had leaked, thinking the publicity would be good for the company. It didn’t matter to Kelly that Sasha had run off to a secluded island with Thomas, nor that she had later headed for England. All Kelly needed was her name on the Atomic website, and then she just had to sit back and let the website hits and the ad clicks roll in.

Sasha hadn’t wanted to use her newfound fame before; it had seemed crass to profit from her association with Thomas. However, that was before she was threatened by a crazy, fanatical internet stalker. Things had changed, and that meant Sasha would have to compromise, even if it meant lowering her personal standards.

She hit dial. The phone purred once, then twice, in her ear.

“Well, well, well,” came Kelly’s voice from the other end. She was clearly a little tipsy. Probably half way through a bottle of wine at home with her beloved feline friends, the way she often spent a Friday evening. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again.”

Kelly had never been one for greetings. Sometimes Sasha wondered whether the woman had ever said ‘hello’ in her life.

“What can I do for you, Miss Sasha Jones?” Kelly added.

There was no beating around the bush. Kelly was a shrewd business woman. She appreciated it when people got straight to the point.

“I need money,” Sasha said, aware of how sheepish her voice sounded. She quickly added, “I’ll work for it.”

There was a pause, followed by a tipsy sounding chuckle. “I don’t doubt for a second that you’d work for it.”

Sasha felt herself lifted by hope. “Then you’ll take me back on?”

There was another pause, filled with the unmistakable sound of Kelly lighting a cigarette.

“I’m not sure you’re what Atomic Magazine is looking for at the moment,” she said in one exhalation, adopting a managerial tone, as though explaining why Sasha had been unsuccessful in an interview.

Sasha baulked. That wasn’t what she was expecting to hear.

“But I thought you wanted the publicity?” she said.

“I wanted the publicity of Thomas Lloyd’s fiancée,” came Kelly’s rebuke. “Not the woman who supposedly blackmailed him.”

Sasha mentally rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Kelly. You know better than most that that’s not true. Thomas and I were legit.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not,” Kelly said, before Sasha heard the sound of her taking another sharp drag on her cigarette. “It’s what people think. You know, the public, the little people who buy the magazine. Right now, the world thinks you’re scum. There’s no place on my magazine for you, Sasha. I could give you Jason Michael’s number. He’s the editor of Ladzz! Magazine—if you didn’t know.”

At that, the phone went dead.

“Bitch,” Sasha muttered under her breath.

As if she’d stoop as low as to write for a misogynistic piece of trash like Ladzz! It was the sort of magazine that had two female writers out of a staff of thirty, and both of them looked like blow-up sex dolls.

Exasperated, Sasha threw her phone down on the bed. Maybe she was being melodramatic? There was always going to be stupid, obsessive fans out there. ‘Mrs. Lloyd’ wasn’t going to harm her; she was just getting a thrill out of trolling her. She didn’t need to reach the depths of Ladzz! Magazine just yet.

She vowed not to look at any of the vile crap on the internet anymore. Google searching her name was making things worse. She just had to wait it out until the next scandal came along and swept this one under the rug.

Mind made up, she curled up under her duvet and thought about Thomas as she drifted off to sleep.





Chapter Twenty Five



In the morning, Sasha made breakfast. It felt good to do normal things again. It felt even better to provide care for her mom, like she had done in the past. She couldn’t help but think it was also what she should have really continued to do—instead of chasing a stupid dream in Chicago.

“Oh, I almost forgot, there was some mail for you this morning,” Julia said, as she munched on a piece of toast.

“For me?” Sasha replied, bemused. She hadn’t received mail at her mother’s address since she’d moved out several years ago.

She went to the table beside the front door and thumbed through the letters. She found the one addressed to her. The envelope was handwritten. She opened it. It simply said: Found you.