Lovers & Liars

*Vivienne*

The flashing neon bulbs, the heavy music booming from hidden speakers and the entire hyped up atmosphere were all beginning to give me a serious headache, and I was already on the verge of breaking into a full-blown panic.

Clubs.

Fuck! What the hell was I even thinking? And so what if this place is new and apparently popular with the people of Los Angeles? I wasn't a club kind of girl.

But somehow, I had allowed my employees to drag me to the club on a Monday night nonetheless. I seriously must have lost my mind.

Still on that thought, I suddenly lurched forward as my body jolted with the impact of someone bumping into me from behind. I quickly braced my hands on the table in front of me and steadied myself.

My jaw clenched as a heavy sense of deja vu descended upon me, making my body go so rigid and tight that it became a miracle I was still breathing fine.

The faint voice of someone apologizing to me slowly receded into the background while I forced myself to breathe steadily through my nose.

"Calm down, Vivi," I muttered to myself with a shaky voice, my eyes slowly squeezing shut. "It was a stranger. You are fine. You can sit here for the next one hour like every other sane person out here without losing your fucking mind."

As I'm still muttering this under my breath, a hand touched my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Reacting instinctively, I jerked away from the contact and threw a wide-eyed panicked look over my shoulder.

Only to see that it was Tara.

Her eyes slowly widened and she immediately threw up her hands in surrender. "Whoa, whoa," she said, retreating a step back. "It's me."

My tense shoulders went lax and I slowly released the breath I was holding. "Oh, hey," I said softly, slightly thankful that I wouldn't have to raise my voice since I was sitting in a secluded corner of the club.

Tara furrowed her brows as she looked at me and then at my tight grip on the bottled water. "You okay?"

I swallowed quickly, released the bottle and then plastered a smile on my face. "Yeah, I'm good," I reassured her.

She cocked a brow. "You sure about that?" she inquired with a thick disbelieving tone.

I swiped my palm at the trail of sweat dotting my forehead and uncorked the cover of the bottle. "Yeah, it was just getting a little too hot in here," I answered her with a big smile and tipping the bottle back, I quickly downed water big enough to soothe my parched throat.

Placing the bottle back on the table, I took a long breath and tried calming my nerves before it escalated into an unmanageable paranoia.

Tara sighed aloud as she folded her arms under her boobs. "Is this about Mark and his new bimbo girlfriend?"

"How did you..." I began, momentarily stunned into speechlessness.

"Know that the asshole had dumped you for a fake as fuck bimbo who he probably cheated on you with the whole time?" she scoffed. "The bitch dropped by one day at the spa and practically bragged that she was now fucking your ex- boyfriend."

I winced. "That sounded... eventful."

Tara rolled her eyes and dropped into the empty chair beside mine. "It was more like a disaster waiting to explode. If not for the customer that I was tending to, I would have slapped some dignity and sense into her empty skull."

I cracked a tiny smile thoroughly aware of what Tara is capable of doing. "And you would have probably burn down my spa with her in it," I said and it wasn't a joke.

Reaching over, Tara placed her hand on mine. "Are you really sure you're okay?" she inquired with a scrunched worried brow. "I mean you and Mark..."

My throat closed up as the incessant dull ache in my chest which I thought had disappeared with time began to throb all over again with a vengeance. I exhaled deeply and bit down hard on my lip. "I'd rather not talk about it," I intoned with a stiff voice.

Mark Simpson, my boyfriend up until last week, had been the ever perfect boyfriend that any girl would wish for -devoted, sweet and understanding. He had been the perfect man for me until he wasn't.

Tara hummed, her head bobbing in understanding.

I closed my eyes and fervently tried to maintain my composure but all to no avail. My hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably and I was already having a difficult time breathing well.

When was the last time I took my medication? This afternoon? But who cares. I needed my control back.

Counting to ten in my head, I abruptly stood up and grabbed my clutch bag. "Umm, I think I need to visit the restroom or something," I announced, hoping that my movements weren't too frantic and probably hinting at the tremor overtaking my body.

Tara blinked, her eyes reflecting concern and confusion at the sudden change in my behavior. "Oh," she whispered. "It's around that corner." she gestured to a corner some metres away and I nodded.

"Thanks."

"Wait, maybe I should go with you incase-"

"I'll be fine," I bit out more forcefully than I intended and she flinched.

Fuck!

Calm the fuck down, Vivi. It's just Tara.

I briefly closed my eyes and on opening them, I said with a much softer voice, "I will be fine, Tara. Don't worry about me."

Tara nodded wordlessly and I heaved a sigh of relief. I needed to get away from here before I ended up doing more than lashing out at my manager.

Without another word, I turned and walked towards the area she pointed out. As I stood in the middle of the pulsating crowd, the thumping bass reverberated through my chest, suffocating me in a dizzying cacophony of sound. Beads of perspiration trickled down my temples, and the air felt stifling, constricting my lungs as if it were a vice grip.

With trembling hands, I elbowed my way through the throng, stinging gazes boring into me with every passing step. The harsh, flashing lights seemed to mock my faltering resolve but I desperately clung to the hope that the restroom would offer respite from the suffocating grip of the club, a sanctuary where I could regain control over my spiraling emotions.

I stumbled through the dim corridor and then through the restroom door which beckoned like a beacon of deliverance. I pushed it open, the sudden relief of silence washing over me like a soothing balm. The pristine white tiles gleamed under the soft glow of the fluorescent lights, casting an ethereal sheen over the spacious, elegant restroom. The acrid scent of disinfectant hung in the air, mingling with the delicate hint of jasmine from the hand soap, a stark contrast to the raucous chaos just beyond the door.

The immaculate marble countertops and gleaming mirrors cast my haggard reflection back at me, a stark reminder of the turmoil that still gripped me. I steadied my quivering breaths, striving to regain control over the tumultuous tempest raging within me.

I shoved my hand into my bag and searched around inside it for the weight of my pillbox just only for me to come up with nothing.

"Fuck!" I hissed under my breath as another wave of panic swept through me. Seems like I had forgotten to retrieve it from my desk back at the office.

My gaze fell down to my hands which were now shaking very badly at this point. Fuck! I needed to leave. Now.

Snatching up my bag, I hurried to the door and yanked it open.

"You can do this, Vivi," I whispered to myself encouragingly but the words of affirmation did nothing to quell the fear and uncertainty taking root in the pits of my stomach.

I exhaled, ducked my head and then began to walk in the direction of the back door which was much nearer to the restroom. Just as I approached my corner of escape, I bumped into someone or something and distinctly heard a lady releasing a string of curse words.

"What. The. Fuck!" the lady shrieked at the top of her lungs and I subtly winced at the piercing intensity of her voice.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized earnestly without looking up, all the while praying the lady wouldn't raise an issue and I could be on my way.

Just as I made to resume my exit, a hand dropped on my shoulder and held me in place.

"Nuh-uh, you're not getting off that easily," a different voice chipped in.

My fingers curled around my bag in frustration. I really didn't have the time to chit chat right now, and just as I opened my mouth to tell the ladies so...

"Enne?" Another new feminine voice called out and I froze.

Only one person has ever called me that but the last time I had seen that person was when he was confidently telling me that the reason he cheated on me was because I was just... me.

Raising my head, I squinted, trying to make out the woman in the dim lighting.

"I'm sorry but who..."

"It's actually you, isn't it," the woman continued, then snorted. "Who would have thought that the great Vivienne Reynolds would someday be sighted in a club that she supposedly hated."

I instinctively drew back a little at her sentence. This strange woman not only knows my name but she knew about my phobia for clubs. That certainly wasn't a good sign whatsoever.

I took another step back, my brows slightly drawing in confusion. "Who are you?" I managed to say, my eyes now fixated on the said woman.

As if on cue, the lights in the corridor came on a little brighter and I quickly made a visual note of the three women standing in front me.

My squinted gaze narrowed on the lady who called me by name. She was slender, with dark lengthy hair, pouty lips probably injected with fillers, a red extra mini dress which came to a stop metres below her ass, her eyes swathed with fake lashes and her overall loud and vain personality all helped me arrive at one conclusion.

This was my replacement.

Mark's new girlfriend.

"Wait, what?" she sputtered out in disbelief. "You don't know who I am?"

"Am I supposed to?" I cocked my head to the side trying to figure out if she's a celebrity and I didn't notice.

" Leigh, who is she?" The lackey by her left asked.

Ah! So her name is Leigh.

Leigh's eyes darkened with something akin to frustration or was it rage. "Bullshit," she spat. "Mark would've told you about me."

Oh, great, she's also a chronic attention seeker. I mentally toned down the urge to push her out of my way and instead crossed my arms over my chest. "He did," I said. "But I just don't care."

It must have been the way I offhandedly brushed her off because almost immediately, her lips thinned into a pissed off flat line. "You didn't care that your boyfriend had been cheating on you and eventually left you for me."

I shrugged. "I have other pressing things to attend to other than caring about a cheating ex." I sighed, already getting tired of this chat.

Leigh stared at me for some seconds before she chuckled dryly. She took some steps forward until we were standing almost head to head. "Or maybe you were busy shoving pills down your throat to help curb your anxiety." She then drew back with a tiny, vicious satisfied smile playing at the corner of her lips.

I visibly flinched as my stomach dropped.

No. No, Mark wouldn't have told this vixen about my struggle with severe anxiety and panic attacks but as I took a look at the cackling witch in front of me, I came to know that yeah, Mark told her.

The intense familiar feeling of crippling betrayal and disappointment began to emanate from somewhere deep inside of me and it took every strength in me not to fall to the ground in a heap.

I stumbled a step back in shock as the world around me began to blur out, a hazy fog settling over my senses.

Still not done, Leigh tsked with disdain. "Now I see why Mark cheated on you- who'd want a pathetic liability like you," she sneered, her friends cackling like hyenas.

I opened my mouth to lash back at them but I could already feel the fight seeping away from my body. I have already ignored the panic attacks for far too long and it was already taking a toil on my system.

Finally deciding to ignore her, I shook my head as I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. I staggered forward, my vision blurring, my head spinning. With a gasp, I stumbled, my legs finally giving way beneath me.

Just as I felt myself falling, a strong pair of arms caught me around the waist, preventing me from crashing to the ground.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, sweetheart," a fruity masculine sonorous voice boomed beside me as the arms around my waist pulled me in closer to his broad chest.

I looked up but was unable to see my savior's face due to my blurry vision.

"Hey, are you okay? You look pale." he inquired, his voice low and soothing.

I managed a tiny nod before I dropped my head on his chest. Just then I caught a whiff of his scent which was a comforting mix of a rich, warm undertone of cedarwood and musk. I inhaled deeply, savoring every nuance of his captivating scent, and feeling an inexplicable sense of solace and security wrap around me.

"What do you girls think you are doing!" he barked out, sounding incredibly pissed. He must be referring to Leigh and her lackeys. "Who on earth bullies their fellow woman untill she passes out when it's clear she isn't feeling fine? Don't y'all have a sense of preservation or are y'all just naturally dumb."

I winced at the hostility oozing out from every part of his body. Fuck's sake, I just needed to get out from here.

Using the last ounce of strength in me, I lifted my head and he was immediately alert, his arms tightening and supporting my weight with ease.

"What's wrong? Talk to me." he was sounding way too worried for a stranger. My heart squeezed as a tear dribbled its way past my eyelid.

I brought my head closer to his and without any reason, I lightly brushed my lips against his.

"Help me... please," I whispered weakly against his lips as the world around me grew fuzzy and I slowly gave in to the darkness that had been lurking at the edges of my vision.

The last thing I remembered was the feeling of someone delicately lifting me into his arms and holding me close to his chest.

At that moment, I felt like I could trust this man with everything including my life.

Then, everything went black.

*Vivienne*

It either had to be the sunlight streaming in through the windows or the unshakable eerie feeling that something was wrong that woke me with a start but, as I blinked my eyes open, it slowly dawned on me why.

I was lying in an unfamiliar room- a hotel room from the looks of it.

For a moment, I just froze on the bed, my mind slowly going into a destructive overdrive.

Fuck... no! It can't be!

Squeezing my eyes shut, I subconsciously willed and prepared my body for the onslaught of nausea and the smell of drugs but when nothing of that sort happened and intense silence greeted me instead, I had to force myself back to reality.

My hands bunched into fits as I slowly remembered that I was going back to the past. The past that I swore never to go back to.

Peeling my eyes back open, I silently took in my surroundings- I was still disoriented and unsure of how I had ended up here. The spacious room was decorated in warm, earthy tones, with rich wood furniture and plush bedding. A large window overlooked a bustling city street below.

As I sat up, the crisp white sheets fell away, and I realized I was still fully dressed from the night before. A sense of unease crept up my spine.

I quickly shook my head to dispel the radical flashbacks and thoughts that were determined to push their way to the forefront of my mind.

Tentatively, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. My body felt unharmed, at least physically. Glancing in the nearby mirror, I saw no visible signs of injury or struggle. These were bonus points but they did nothing for me nor did they shake off the feeling of unease.

I sank my fingers in my hair and pulled at the roots, narrowly suppressing the urge to yell out in frustration. I hated feeling like this. Hated not being in control of my body and movements. And I surely hated not knowing or remembering what had happened to me.

Walking to the window, I carefully peeked through the curtains. The bustling city street outside was unfamiliar - I didn't recognize this neighborhood at all. Panic rising in my throat, I backed away from the window and began pacing the room, wracking my brain for any fragments of memory.

I briefly closed my eyes, desperately trying to remember anything. All I could conjure was a blurry image of piercing emerald green eyes gazing down at me.

"Who did those eyes belong to?" I mused, a shiver running down my spine. I scanned the room, looking for any clue that could be linked to last night which was still shrouded in a hazy fog.

I immediately spotted my purse and coat which were neatly placed on a chair, alongside my shoes which were kept at the foot of the chair.

Pressing a finger to my forehead, I headed to the bathroom to splash some cool water on my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for some minutes, analyzing my disheveled appearance and the dark circles that had formed under my eyes.

I needed to get out of here.

After quickly freshening up and straightening out my outfit, I crossed back to the room, and on locating my phone, I breathed a sigh of relief on seeing it was still on.

I booked an Uber, gathered my belongings, and headed out of the hotel room. The hallway was quiet and empty as I made my way to the elevators. The opulent lobby was bustling with activity - businesspeople hurried through, their faces buried in phones, while bellhops scurried to assist arriving guests. I nodded politely to the concierge as I passed through the revolving glass doors and out onto the busy city street of LA.

Whatever occurred last night was either going to make or mar me in the future. Like always.

Welcome to my fucking life.

*****

The Uber drive was short-lived because some minutes later, I arrived at Tranquil Haven Beauty Day Spa. As I pushed open the heavy glass door, the familiar scent of essential oils and the soothing sounds of soft music immediately enveloped me, instantly calming my nerves.

The reception area is elegantly designed with a neutral color palette, accented with touches of muted greens and soft blues. Plush armchairs invite you to sink in and unwind as you await your appointment, surrounded by the subtle yet calming scents of lavender and eucalyptus drifting through the air.

Large windows allow natural light to filter in, casting a warm glow over the room and offering a glimpse of the tranquil garden outside. Lush potted plants and flickering candles add to the ambiance, creating a sense of peace and tranquility.

"Good morning, boss," my receptionist, Blair Monroe, greeted me warmly from behind the marble-topped counter. "I have your schedule for the day, and the team is ready for their assignments."

"Thank you, Blair," I replied, forcing a smile as I made my way to my office in the back. I needed to get my bearings and push the unsettling events of last night out of my mind. There was work to be done.

Just then, the sharp crisp sound of the telephone ringing permeated the air.

"Umm, excuse me, ma'am." Blair's voice halted me in my steps just as I was about to round the corner. I turned and raised an inquiring brow at her.

"You have a caller on the line," she said and gestured to the telephone on her desk.

My brows furrowed in confusion. Who could be calling in this early? I don't remember having any appointments scheduled until late in the afternoon.

"Who is it, Blair?" I inquired.

"He said his name is Dean and that he'd already booked an appointment with you," she answered.

I stared at Blair, my nerves instinctively tightening while my heart jumped in my throat.

How did he get the official number for my business?

"Ma'am ?-"

My grip tightened on my bag as I tried swallowing down my suddenly dry throat. "Tell him I'm not in and subsequently block him from ever contacting this place again."

"Ma'am?" Blair's perplexity and shock were evident in her voice and facial expression.

"Just do as I say," I hissed at her from behind clenched teeth.

She flinched and immediately lowered her head. "Yes, ma'am."

I took a deep breath in and with my tight chest relaxing a bit, I spun on my heels and left the lobby.

"A cup of coffee would surely go a long way in calming down my already messy mood," I mused as I made a quick detour to the common room.

"She's here." I heard someone squeak from inside the room as I grabbed the doorknob and turned it.

On opening the door, someone dashed at me with full speed and barely managed not to knock me over.

It took me a split second to catch a whiff of Tara's perfume right before she threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly while I just stood, frozen in shock.

I've already had so many unplanned shocks this morning than on a normal Tuesday morning.

"Thank God you're okay." Tara heaved a deep sigh of relief.

I blinked and immediately caught the eyes of my remaining staff from across the room. Rosa, Penny, and Nick were all staring at the spectacle before them with a tiny relieved smile.

Rosa Edmond and Penelope Douglas; my Esthetician and massage therapist respectively were already dressed in our signature uniform-A pink-colored two-piece outfit consisting of a top and pants. The top has a V-neck design and short puff sleeves, and the pants are a loose, jogger-style cut.

But Nick- the nail technician was still dressed casually.

Okay... what the hell is going on here?

Tara unwrapped her arms from my body and grabbed my shoulders instead. "You are not hurt anywhere, are you? Do you feel pain anywhere? Do you feel dizzy?"

I slapped her hand away and took a step back away from her. "Your endless questions are the ones making me feel dizzy," I said, shaking my head. "Why the hell would I be in pain?"

Penny sighed and stepped forward. "Tara here," she gestured to Tara. "Was about losing her mind after what happened last night."

My gaze shifted back to Tara. "Last night," I echoed, unsure where this was leading to.

"You don't remember what happened last night?" Tara's eyes widened in sync with the rising pitch in her voice. "Oh my God! This is bad. Someone should call the police."

"Why would we call the police?" I have never felt so confused and disoriented in my entire life. Did something happen and no one cared to inform me about it?

Nick walked up to Tara and grabbed her arms. "Tara, I think you should sit for a minute and catch your breath." without waiting for her compliance, he matched her to a vacant chair and shoved her down.

"Vivi, would you like a coffee?" Nick asked me as he made his way to the coffee machine.

"Yeah, sure," I answered, silently grateful that I had someone like Nick on my staff. His ability to be calm in times of chaos despite his bubbly personality was unmatched.

I located a chair and sat. "So, what happened last night?" I prompted. I can't let them know that I somehow lost my memory from last night.

"You seriously don't remember going to the restroom last night and never coming back?" Tara asked. "I nearly ran mad after I tried calling your number and it wasn't going through."

I blinked. Restroom? What restroom?

"Nick, can you make that coffee two, please? I'm still feeling a little hungover," Rosa begged.

"I got you," Nick said.

Penny clapped her hands together. " So, what Tara has been trying to say is that we all went to the club last night and somewhere along the line, you just disappeared with a trace and no one was able to reach you until you came in this morning wearing the same clothes from yesterday."

I looked down at myself as that piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Oh," was all I could say.

"You look tired, Vivi, " Rosa inputted. "Maybe you should book a massage therapy session with Penny. Her hands are gifted."

"You know it, babe," Penny said and winked at Rosa.

"Here you go!" Nick declared as he set down a cup of steaming coffee in front of me. "I'll be right back," he added and turned to leave the room.

"Thank you." I smiled at him and looked at everyone. "I appreciate the concern but I'm fine. Really. You guys don't have to worry about me-"

"Vivi," Tara's voice cuts in and I redirected my gaze to meet her eyes. "You might wanna see this."

My eyes fell to her phone which she was already extending towards me. I hesitantly reached out and took it, but as I looked down at the article displayed on her screen, my brows knitted together in confusion.

"Why are you showing me some tabloid-" I trailed off unexpectedly, my mouth falling open in shock at the headline.

"Nollywood Heartthrob's Steamy Spa Seduction! A-List Bachelor Caught in Passionate Tryst with Curvaceous Salon Siren"

- Subhead: "Exclusive photos expose smoking hot romance between movie star and sultry day spa proprietress!"

And right under it were pictures of me in a man's arms as he headed out from what seemed like a club. People would have had a hard time believing this one if it were not for the tight hold that the man had on me.

I swiped down and came across another one which was taken when it looked like I was about to fall but the man caught me in time. The angle from which the photos were taken made it look like we were enraptured with each other.

With my heart hammering fiercely behind my ribs, I scrolled down to the very last one which was of us kissing. My breath hitched in my throat as my memory came rushing back with a vengeance.

I remembered everything, and my world tilted on its axis.

Cameras. There were photos of me on the internet with an unknown man. Again.

The world around me became blurred and sounds were muffled. I could barely feel Tara's phone slipping from my hands. My legs buckled beneath me and I felt myself rapidly sinking into the most dreaded hole. My dreaded hole.

My head spun, a whirlwind of dizziness formulating in the pits of my stomach. I was falling and there was no one to catch me.

Just then, I caught a quick whiff of a very familiar, comforting scent but my now dormant brain couldn't interpret who it belonged to.

I felt someone pushing my hair away from my face, a gesture so achingly sweet and at the same time familiar.

I knew this person but from where?

"Look at me, sweetheart," a warm, velvety baritone cooed. "You are fine. You are going to be fine."

His voice was soothing and calming and I slowly found my vision clearing. As I raised my head to behold my savior, I was soon staring into a pair of the most hypnotic eyes that I have ever seen.

Those alluring and bewitching emerald green eyes... I have seen them before.

I gasped as it slowly dawned on me. It was him.

"Well, hello there, girlfriend," the man said with a grin.

It was him.

My supposed Hollywood lover.

*Vivienne*

Acting impulsively, I reared back from the familiar stranger who was squatting in front of me.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized quickly, still wearing that cheeky grin. "That must have startled you."

He took a couple of steps back and away from me.

"Liam Ryan Pryce?" Penny's breathy, awestruck voice came out as a wheezy sound.

I swiveled my neck to look in her direction only to see Penny and Rosa frozen on the spot. Their eyes sparkling with unrestricted admiration and love as they gazed at the man in front of me.

It was almost as if they were bewitched.

The man then stood up, stretching to his full height and acknowledged them with a slight nod. "Ladies," he said, his smile utterly disarming, and they gasped with delight.

"Oh my God!" Rosa shrieked, her excitement evident before she slapped a hand over her mouth.

"I..." she paused for a moment and then pointed to Penny and herself. "We are literally your biggest fans and we just finished watching your latest movie; Apex predator and your performance was epic! We seriously can't wait for your next comeback." Rosa was practically gushing and spitting bars at this point and was getting red in the face.

A bright, genuine smile appeared on his face. "Really?" he leaned forward and whispered. "I thought I'd underperformed in that movie but your words just reassured me. Thank you."

Penny took a hesitant step towards, clutching a notepad and a pen which appeared from nowhere. "Sorry, but can I get your autograph? My sister is not going to believe me unless I show her proof," she said with a tiny, shy, awkward laugh.

Her awkwardness rendered me speechless because the Penny I know was an outgoing and bold woman.

Is this what they call Celebrity crush jitters or something?

"Yeah, of course," Liam beamed radiantly as he took the notepad.

Penny and Rosa did a little happy dance together, giggling like little fan girls... which they are technically.

My brows slowly arched as I studied him. This man was the one in the photos with me? Because I could swear with everything holy that I have never met him in my entire life.

Not that it wasn't possible, but there was no way I could have become entangled with an ethereal being.

The man cuts an imposing figure, standing tall at 6'3" with his broad shoulders and trim waist accentuated by an expertly fitted suit.

The suit is made of a deep charcoal gray fabric that perfectly complements his jet black, tousled hair and piercing emerald green eyes. The crisp white dress shirt beneath the suit jacket is pristine, the top button undone to reveal a glimpse of his strong, masculine neck.

His long legs were clad in tailored suit pants and completed with a pair of expensive looking shiny black dress shoes. His entire ensemble screamed wealth, power and sophistication.

I dragged my eyes to his face as I took in his high, prominent cheekbones and a strong, chiseled defined jawline. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, framing his green eyes perfectly. His features were so sharply sculpted that it made him look so unreal.

In this tailored suit, the man looks every bit the leading man - a vision of modern masculine elegance and beauty that is sure to turn heads wherever he goes.

"Are you done?" his now familiar voice yanked me back to reality.

I blinked, my cheeks flushing a deep red at how I was blatantly checking him out. "Done with what?" I threw back at him.

He cocked his head to the side. "Checking me out," he said without batting an eyelid.

I bit down on my lip to stop the outburst of sassy comeback that was burning on my tongue. I raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with that?"

His smile grew wider and for some unknown reasons, it was getting on my nerves. "Naaa." he shrugged. "I've lived with attention all my life that a little bit of it doesn't bother me anymore."

And of course, he is one of the cocky ones who thinks he's one of God's great gifts to women.

Great.

"Your looks are quite common," I said dryly with a bored expression, barely locking in my eye roll. "Your features are sharp but common nonetheless."

One of his perfect eyebrows arched in a "that's BS" kind of way. "Are you sure about that, sweetheart?"

A tiny smirk curved the tip of his mouth and that was when I saw it. The twin dimples on both his cheeks.

As if his out worldly appearance wasn't enough, God still had to add more to his beauty. The man was already prettier than most women for crying out loud.

My eyes narrowed and my jaws clenched. I was clearly lying through my front teeth and Mr. Cocky ass knew that. "Excuse you?"

He slipped his hands into his pants pockets, his eyes still trained on me. "I mean, I'm not the one who was caught checking someone out." a tiny secretive smile made an appearance on his lips. "And considering the fact that you were the one who kissed me last night-" he trailed off with a shrug.

Collective gasps echoed around the room.

My cheeks flushed yet again, but I wasn't backing down just yet. "That was a mistake. A terrible one from the look of things."

He placed a hand on his chest and winced . "Ouch."

Already getting fed up with his theatrics. I sighed. "How did you even get in here?"

He nodded towards the door. "Your receptionist directed me after I told her I was here to see you," he answered.

I frowned, totally not getting it. "And why are you here to see me?"

"Did you not read the article about us on Telltale Herald?" he asked. "They are practically saying that I got seduced by you."

"Sorry but eww." I couldn't help but make a face. "But, it can't be something that serious, right? It's not like you are some Hollywood prince or something," I added with an eye roll.

Mr. Pryce just looked at me and I sure wasn't liking the vibes I was getting from the room.

Tara coughed awkwardly. "He actually is the Hollywood prince," she told me.

I blinked once and then twice. "You mean like he's royalty?"

He chuckled lightly. "Nope, it's more like a title that I earned." His phone beeped in his front breath pocket, he reached inside and fished it out. He then stared at the screen for some time, his demeanor changing. "They are here," he announced.

"Who?" Tara is quick enough to ask.

Mr. Pryce looked up and his eyes locked with mine. "The reporters."

Everywhere went silent and my blood instantly congealed.

My wide eyes flew to the window that was overlooking the parking lot.

Reporters?

If reporters were here already... with their cameras.

Fuck, no! Not the fucking cameras.

Just how far has this ridiculous rumor spread?

My eyes returned to him with questions in them. How popular and influential is he in the entertainment industry to warrant this type of fast premium attention?

I clenched and unclenched my hands, my head beginning to throb all over again. All these initial confusion and chaos all made me forget the severity of the situation that I was in.

I pressed my hand down on my chest and rubbed, trying to alleviate the ache that was crippling and constricting my flow of air.

I should have taken my pills before anything else earlier this morning.

I forced myself to take in deep breaths and focused on regaining my control back.

"Are you okay, Vivi?" I heard Tara's worried voice.

"I'm fine," I replied curtly, my eyes flashing with a warning. "Can I speak with Mr. Pryce alone?"

Moments later, I heard the sound of feet shuffling out of the room and soon enough, we were alone.

I picked up the now lukewarm coffee and downed it in a go. I needed to get a hang of what was actually happening.

"You okay?" Mr. Pryce inquired.

I crossed my arms over my chest with a distant expression. "Have a seat, Mr. Pryce," I told him instead, choosing not to answer his question.

With his eyes still on me, he grabbed a nearby chair and made himself comfortable. Reclining in the chair, his big hands clasped loosely in his lap and one leg stretched out in front of him. In this position, the man exuded an enigmatic grace and confidence that rivaled that of many men.

I took a seat myself, deliberately creating a barrier between us with the table.

"Do you feel better after last night?" he questioned, and I frowned.

"Last night?"

He jerked his head in my direction. "Your fever," he answered curtly. "Don't you remember?"

I had a fever last night?

This new information was almost debatable but since I still don't have any recollection whatsoever about what happened after the kiss, I clamped my mouth shut instead.

Even if I did have a fever last night, how did he know about it?

"You don't remember," he stated conclusively. "You should really rest up. Your fever was so bad that you barely got a good night's sleep."

A small confused scowl creased my forehead. "Are you trying to imply that you were with me the whole night and probably took care of me because I had a fever?" my tone was heavily laced with skepticism.

His head slowly tilted to the side. "Why is that so hard to believe? Because I am a celebrity."

"People, especially celebrities, don't do things unless it benefits them in a way," I said, my voice firm.

"That's called stereotyping."

"It's called logical reasoning," I responded, my tone crisp. "Celebrities and the entertainment industry are more like the most selfish species of humans. Their movements and choices are calculated, and they don't care who is destroyed in the end as long as they get what they want."

Liam looked at me and then leaned forward, his green eyes were pinned on me with a probing intensity that made me squirm. It was almost as if he could see right through me.

"You are trying to pass off my help towards you as an orchestration, aren't you?"

I arched a brow at him. "This article was published this morning, an hour after you supposedly left the hotel." I shook my head. "Sorry but I don't believe in coincidences. Facts work much better."

He chuckled. "Then, you must be speculating that I am the one who led the reporters to this place, huh?"

"The real question should have been how you got to know about my spa and that I had already left the hotel."

"I saw your ID last night, that was how I knew the location of your spa. As for the reporters, someone must have tipped them off about this place," he said. "Whatever happened last night was purely a coincidence, whether you believe it or not is entirely up to you."

For some unknown reason, something was telling me that he was telling the truth. But I wasn't that gullible.

"Have the tabloids pull down the articles. I believe it's well within your jurisdiction to do so. I don't want to be a part of whatever publicity stunt that you're trying to pull here."

A flicker of emotion crossed his face but it was already gone before I could decipher what it meant. He adjusted back in his chair and for a moment I was distracted by the definition of his abdominal muscles through the tailored cut of his suit jacket, and the subtle ripple of muscle beneath his skin.

"I'm afraid, I can't do that," he mumbled.

My jaw dropped. My flabbers were totally gasted. "Excuse you?"

He exhaled deeply. "You were right about something," he began. "The world that I live in is not something I'd wish to drag someone into but right now, I have no choice."

"You are not making any sense right now." I frowned.

"The attention has to be on you," he stated. "Our situation is no longer one of celebrity scandals and whatnot." his voice dropped. "It's now between life and death."

I blinked rapidly, my brain unable to process what he just said.

He flashed me a smile. "I'm sorry that this is all I could do. But it's the only way that's safe." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Just give me a little of your trust and time, I will set everything back the way it was before."

After a tense moment, he reached inside his breast pocket and retrieved a card. He unfolded his powerful body from the chair and dropped the card in front of me.

"Call me whenever something out of the ordinary happens." a muscle twitched in his jaw. "Please."

My own jaw clenched and I watched as he headed for the door, his walk a perfect mesmerizing blend between a controlled strut and a powerful prowl.

On reaching the door, he paused for a while but ended up striding out the door.

As soon as he left, I released the breath I never knew I was holding. Talk about some intense moments.

He left but something was telling me that this wasn't going to be the last that I would see of Liam Ryan Pryce.

*****

The rest of my day went by without me accomplishing anything. I was angry, frustrated and confused and the major thing at the forefront of my brain was Liam Pryce.

For some reason, what he said kept nagging at me.

I told the Uber driver carrying me home to drop me off in front of an alley a few meters away from my house. I wouldn't be surprised if those intrusive reporters have gotten my address already.

The amount of calls that I received from them were enough to refresh my memory.

As I approached my house, I ducked my head just in case I bumped into a stray paparazzi. The heavens, however, seemed to be on my side because I noticed nothing out of the ordinary as I reached my apartment building.

"Xabrina," a voice hissed from the shadows behind me as I made to enter the apartment's lobby.

My body recoiled involuntarily as I recognized the voice and the stench that came with it. Without much ado, I turned. "Dean."

Dean grinned and stuck his hands into his pants. "Long time, no see, huh? I almost thought you died or something." the smile melted off his face. "Turns out you were just busy screening and ignoring my texts and calls."

"What do you want, Dean?" I asked him, already getting annoyed.

"Money of course," he scoffed.

"How much?"

His eyes widened as if he was surprised I wasn't putting up a fight. He rubbed his nose aggressively and said, "Six Gs."

My brows knitted together. "Six Gs? The fuck are you going to do with six thousand dollars. That's a whole lot of money!" I exploded.

He rolled his eyes. "Spare me the bullshit lecture, Brina. I've got shits to handle and solve with money."

"And so do I!" I yelled, the stress and anger from today enveloping me. "I've got a fucking business that I'm running, staff to be paid at the end of every month and Mama's fees at the nursing home has to be fucking paid too!"

Dean's face contoured into a dark angry shade. He walked up to me and stared right into my eyes. "Whose fault is it then, huh?" he stabbed my chest with a finger. "It. Was. Your. Fucking. Fault! It's your fault that we are all in this mess. And it's your fault that Mama is stuck in that nursing home with no recollection of who we are! It was all your god-damned fault!"

My fingers dug down into my palm, almost drawing blood as I bit down hard on my lower lip.

"So, don't speak about Mama like you care about her, cause you don't, you selfish bitch!" Dean exhaled and dragged his fingers through his greasy hair. "Get me the miserly six Gs by the weekend. It's the least you could do after you ruined everything."

Tears brimmed in my eyes as his words came crashing down on me. He was right. It was my fault. Everything was.

"Remember, weekend. Not after that. And don't be late with the payment or else," he said, leaving the threat hanging and disappearing into the shadows again.

Immediately he left, I collapsed to the pavement in a heap and finally let out the tears that I have been building up since today.

I ruined everything.

And I was never going to forget it