Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
There should be a security guard at the gate, though. I walk past Chuck and head for the door, but he grabs me by the arm and stops me. My heart leaps, and I cry out, but he just smiles.
“No one can hear you, gorgeous.” The stench of his cologne invades my nostrils as I struggle. “But relax, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then let go of me!”
“I will, okay? Just don’t run. I have something important to tell you.”
I scoff. “To tell me? What could you possibly have to tell me, Chuck?”
I should have asked Trish to stay. But how was I supposed to know this guy would physically assault me? Orson never warned me to be actually fearful of him.
Chuck sighs and hangs his head. “This is going to be hard to hear, Megan. But your friend Trish? She’s been sleeping with Orson.”
“Ha!” I burst out laughing. “Get real. She would never!”
“You sure about that? I mean, she asked me on a date, Megan.” Reaching into his pocket, Chuck pulls out his phone and scrolls through a series of texts from Trish, including a selfie that looks like it was taken outside my apartment.
“What…?”
“She said she’d sleep with me if I paid her monthly rent and took her out for an expensive dinner.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to believe it.
But then again, Trish has openly admitted to me that she does stuff like this with men. I mean, she was supposed to go out with Orson. The only reason I did was because she double-booked herself. Is it really that unbelievable that these are real texts to Chuck?
“Fine, let’s just say I believe you. Those are texts to you. Not Orson.”
Chuck nods, releasing his hold on me. This is my chance to run, but something keeps me where I am.
I don’t want to believe it. No way Orson would have sex with my best friend! And Trish wouldn’t do that to me!
That’s what I keep telling myself. But for the last few days I’ve also been telling myself that this new life of mine isn’t real. It’s impossible. A man like Orson would never want a girl like me.
“How do you think Trish got in here, Megan?” Chuck asks. My blood turns to ice. I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He has a point. I even asked her that when she showed up, but she didn’t answer…
“How’d she even know where this house was? And who let her in?”
Oh God…
“Maybe Orson told her before…” I mutter. “When they had a date scheduled…”
“Or maybe she’s been seeing him behind your back and the guard knows her so he let her in?”
The look on Chuck’s face makes my stomach turn. His suggestion hits me in the chest like a boulder.
My lungs burn as I gasp for breath.
“No.” I shake my head. “They would never—”
“And where is he right now?” Chuck continues. “Come on, Megs. No offense, but do you really think a man like Orson, a man who can have any and every girl he could ever want, would settle down with you?”
Tears spill from my eyes. My legs start to tremble.
“Get out!” I scream, the words tearing out of my throat. “Get out of here now!”
Chuck shrugs and gives me a look that could only be described as pity.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Megan. But some men are just used to having everything.”
It takes all of my strength to remain standing as I watch him go. As soon as the door shuts behind him, I collapse. I fall to my knees, tears pouring from my eyes. My reflection stares up at me from the perfectly polished marble floor.
What do I do now?
I don’t want to believe it. I can’t believe it.
Chuck is lying. Orson would never betray me.
That’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last half hour as I repeatedly call Orson’s phone. But every single time it goes to voicemail.
“Pick up, damn it!” I scream, kicking a can of primer across the studio. Pain floods through my big toe, and I tumble over. Yeah, that’s broken.
My eyes sweep the plethora of gifts—all the paints, the brushes, the canvases. I should have known it was all too good to be true. He probably just did all this for me so he could keep have a girl around to fuck whenever he wanted while he went out with other girls on the side. Not like it would put a dent in his bank account.
Why would he want me?
I know nothing about his world. I’m a broke waitress who has dreams of being an artist—
“Oh no...”
I was a waitress, but I haven’t been to work in three days. I check my missed calls and see a bunch from the diner.