She slumped into her chair behind her desk, her euphoria from the past several weeks deflating. She hated to think that anyone would paint her as an opportunist. She also hated to think that Ethan hadn't been completely straight with her all this time. She just didn't know who to trust or believe at that moment. She wasn't sure she even trusted herself. Why had she fallen so easily? Why hadn't she stepped back and thought things over before letting it get this far? She wasn't cut out for all this intrigue and drama. She'd had enough to handle with the paparazzi hounding her just because Ethan chose to be with her instead of any of the celebrity debutantes he could have been with.
I have to get my life back, Mandy thought resolutely, pushing her hands through her hair and taking a deep breath. She'd always known she had something to prove when she started her career. She was young, maybe even naïve. The way she'd succumbed so easily to Ethan's conquest was proof enough of that. But she'd been so ready to do anything for love. And now whatever could have been between them would be forever cheapened if she let Zuriel get her way. But what else am I going to do, she thought as her hands lifted to cover her face. She felt so lost and alone. And yet as the minutes ticked by, she realized what steps she had to take. There was no other choice...
Chapter Thirteen
"Why did she do it?"
Ethan heard his own voice like it was coming from some far away cavern. Behind him, Zuriel moved forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"She had a choice between her career and you, and she picked her career," Zuriel said gently.
Ethan didn't want to believe that. He wasn't ready for the realization that he'd been so wrong about Mandy.
He shook his head rapidly as if to clear his senses, but it wasn't working. It was hard to think straight while faced with the reality that he may just have lost Mandy for good.
"Just what did she say to you?" Zuriel asked in such a calm tone. He felt prompted to relive those hellish moments when she'd told him goodbye.
"Fuck," he groaned, fisting the hair at his temple. The words were all jumbled up now. The farewell scene rushed before him like reeling images.
She'd been avoiding his calls and texts for days. Finally, she agreed for him to come over to her place to talk about whatever was bothering her. He'd been worried it had something to do with a few dumb articles in the paper about some lovesick fan stalking him. But it hadn't been that. Far from it.
"I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say, Ethan. And afterwards, I don't want you to try and change my mind because you can't. I'm not going to budge from my decision because it's what's best for me. And Lord knows it's high time I started thinking about myself, because no one else will."
"Mandy, what are you talking about?"
"I have to stop seeing you, Ethan," she'd said quietly but firmly. "And it doesn't have anything to do with you, so don't think I'm blaming you for any of this. You were just being yourself while I was simply being … stupid. I had a job to do, but I couldn't stay professional. I'm sorry about that. But what hurts almost as much is the knowledge that people would think I was with you for all the wrong reasons. I need to know I deserve to be where I'm at right now and not just because I was sleeping with Ethan Tyler, the rock god."
Ethan's scowl had been thunderous. "Has Davey been talking to you? That sneaky son of a … "
"This has nothing to do with your manager. I told you, Ethan, this is me doing what I know is in my best interests. I can't … I can't be your lover anymore. It's over. And I will gladly step down from being your tour stylist, but I'm afraid you'll end your contract with Jessica Charles and I wouldn't want that for her … "
"I won't do that," Ethan had said firmly. "The band was going with her firm anyway. She's the fucking best, everyone knows that. And you work for her, which automatically means you're worth your salt. No one is going to think you've reached the heights you have for any other reason but you're worth it. So why don't you tell me the real reason you want to give up on us?"
His anger had made his veins stand out in his arms because he was clenching his fists so hard. She was standing across the room, almost as if she was afraid of his reaction. So he did all he could to keep his immense fury down. He didn't want to fucking lose her.
She waved her hands in the air. "What we had … has been spectacular. I won't lie and say it hasn't been the best time of my life. But I don't want to do this anymore. I'm not … this isn't the life for me. You need to focus on what you really do, and that's being a rock star. And I have to pick up the pieces and just … move on with my life. And it has to be without you."
It took an effort not to smash his fist into the wall. Turning away from her for a moment, he drew in an angry breath. "Who is it, Mandy? Who's gotten to you? Is it Davey? Jaime? They're a bunch of single-minded bastards, but they don't mean any harm. Believe me. They only want what's best for the band and yet … you don't have to feel like you need to listen to them. Listen to me. I love you, damn it."
He'd shocked himself – and her, with that unexpected declaration. But it hadn't been enough. And her next words had almost cut him to the ground.
"You can believe that if it makes you feel better about what's happened," Mandy said softly. "Tell yourself you care and that's why you set out to get me into bed even after I told you I wasn't interested in getting involved with a rock star – my client. You ‘cared', and that's why you asked me to London with you as a stylist even when you knew I was simply an intern, with only a few months on the job. You did what you had to do to put me in your power and I surrendered, Ethan. So it's all on me. And like I said, I'm not mad at you. But I will be if you don't respect my wishes and just walk out the door now."
"I will," he said with thinly veiled anger, "I just need to ask … was it ever real for you? Or was I just a way to pass the time? Because if this meant anything to you at all, you wouldn't find it so easy to ask me to leave."
He could see his words had touched her; saw the indecision cross her face. His heart lifted with hope, but it was short-lived.
"I told you once before, Ethan, and I meant it. No matter what happened between us, you're just not the man I'd want to be with. Maybe all this was meant to be was a passing thing."
"So what happens now? You go back to your perfect banker boyfriend." Ethan stated more than asked. He knew about Marcus wanting to propose to Mandy; she'd told him everything about how the break up had gone. Little did Ethan know he'd be facing the same fate soon.
"I haven't considered that option," she said heavily but with a firmness he believed.
Ethan hated himself now for the momentary weakness that had come over him then. Crossing the room in seconds, he lifted her into his arms as he'd kissed her roughly, achingly. Poured his anguish, his all, into it, mouth wide and tongue pushing in deep like he would eat her whole. She moaned, the sound ringing in his ears. All he could keep thinking was not again. He didn't want to feel this way again. Like there was a big black bottomless hole gaping in front of him to infinity.
She'd pushed at him with surprising strength and only when her fists pummeled at his chest did he finally come to his senses and let her go abruptly.
He'd been so close to begging her on his knees. He hadn't understood the feeling of bereavement that had crossed his soul. But instead of pleading, he met her frightened gaze one more time and the raging mist cleared from his eyes.
Swearing underneath his breath, he swiveled around sharply and was out of the front door before he even knew what he was doing.
For three days he had holed up in a hotel room, cut off from everyone. Once he emerged, he'd met up with his band mates and Davey, who were happy to see he hadn't gone on some alcoholic or drug-induced bender. Ethan hadn't had a drink or a smoke – not even a cigarette. But then he hadn't touched any food either, which made him look drawn, pale, and bad-tempered. Jaime clapped a hand on his back and suggested they should all pile into their favorite diner and stuff themselves on everything baked, grilled, roasted, or fried they could lay their hands on and wash it down with every kind of beer on tap.
Ethan suddenly decided it was a good idea to drown his sorrows in food and some cold brew.
Later, all three of them were in the studio when Jaime asked mildly, "Ready to get back to work?"
Ethan nodded. "Yeah." Work was all he had now. He'd take the edge off the pain somehow, one piece of shrapnel at a time.