Turn Over(67)

I walked inside and went straight for the bottle of bourbon.

I didn’t bother to find a glass. I popped the top and touched the bottle to my lips. It had been a long time since I had spent the night drunk, but I was about to change that.





33





Alexa





“Honey, please stop checking your phone.” Helena’s voice was sympathetic.

“He hasn’t called or returned any of my texts.” I turned the screen facedown. “If he were coming tonight, he would have called, wouldn’t he?”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “I’m sorry. But you’ve got to focus on this night. Look how gorgeous you look. And this dress is to-die-for.”

I didn’t care about the dress or my hair. Without Luke, it didn’t matter.

“I think I should skip the red carpet.”

“I realize Jake isn’t your manager any more, but I have to step in on this one. You’re doing the red carpet.”

I sighed. “So I can be humiliated, publicly?”

“No, so you can show people you are not ashamed of who you are. Tell people the truth, Lex.”

I shook my head. “They’ve already made up their minds. They think I was a prostitute.”

“And you’re ok with that? You’re ok with Jake smearing your name to everyone?”

I glared. “Why didn’t he just leave on his own? Why did he have to throw me under the bus and claim breach of contract on my part? I would have let him out if he had asked.”

“Because he’s a fucking snake.”

I was done wasting my energy on Jake. I was free from him. And he had been right. I wasn’t going to run his name through the mud. It would make me just as ugly and nasty as he was if I outed him. I’d always told him I’d stand by him if he decided to live his life publicly. I’d feel like a hypocrite if suddenly I used it against him as if I didn’t support gay relationships. I had to let that go. It wasn’t going to happen.

“I wonder how long he had been courting Nicki Niles?”

She shrugged, tucking a few curls behind my ears and pinning them with crystals. It gave my hair a little bit of extra sparkle.

“Long enough to devise a diabolical plan. He signed with her yesterday. He could have at least waited until after the CYAs.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s in pop now. And I’m staying in country. Hopefully, we’ll never see each other again.”

I had a lump in my throat. I hoped I was still in country. I wanted to be. This was my musical place. The instruments I played. The lyrics I loved. My friends, who had been noticeably absent, were in this industry.

But Jake’s plan to destroy me out of pure driven spite had already been successful. The calls had stopped. The congratulations had slowed. No one invited me to any of the after parties tonight. And the one person who mattered most—Luke—was gone.



I pulled my shoulders back and pressed my lips together, refreshing my lip gloss before the limo door opened. I had to walk the red carpet alone. I plastered a smile on my face. I missed Luke. So badly it hurt.

But this was on me. I should have talked to him. I should have told him the night I opened up about my family. There was so much more to the story than what I shared. But the fear that he would hate me kept me from telling him I was desperate when I first moved to Nashville.

My parents were gone. I had no college fund. I had a pocketful of waitress tips and that was it. When I saw the ad for the dating agency I answered it. It wasn’t supposed to last long. And I wasn’t a whore.

“Ready?” the driver asked.

I nodded. “They can open the door.”

He signaled to the group outside and the door opened. The flashes and screams started. I stepped onto the red carpet, hearing my name mixed with boos and cheers. Reporters screamed my name.

The representative appeared from the side. “Right this way, Miss Wilde. We’ll just keep you moving here. Yep. Just keep walking.”

I smiled and looked up at him. He guided me through a line. Instead of stopping and posing for pictures or answering questions he ushered me on the other side of the paparazzi row.

“Don’t I need to—”

“We’ll just keep moving. I don’t want you to deal with anything uncomfortable tonight.” He pulled the earpiece on his head. “Ok, looks like I can take you straight to your seat.”

“But, I wanted to say hi to some people.” I looked over my shoulder. I was the only one being whisked inside as if I were late.

“Inside works. And it’s cooler,” he offered.

I refrained from stomping my pointy heel into his toes. He was only doing what he had been told to do, but I felt it. The judgment. The pity. The problem I caused for the awards. They would much rather I tucked my tail and stayed home to watch the awards in my PJs and with a big bucket of cookies and cream ice cream.