Blindsided (40 page)

“Wait… What are you gonna do? Is it legal?”

My sister smiles. “I’ll trace the leak to where it originated online. If you really didn’t tell, then there’ll be a site somewhere with the information. It’ll be time-stamped. And yes, it’s legal. Kind of.”

I sit up straight. “So, you could find the person who did this?”

“Ah, no.” She grimaces. “I’m not the NSA, dude. It’ll be covered up in so many ways. I won’t be able to get past the original source, but that’ll be enough. It’s probably from the files gathered by the celebrity hacker. Leah’s famous by default.”

Of course.
“Lottie, you’re a fuckin’ genius.”

“I know.” She grins. “I’ll call you when I’ve found out.” She throws the menu at me. “Now, order me a double vodka and Coke and a bacon cheeseburger.”

S
ometimes it helps to have friends who aren’t famous.

Well, Ryann kind of is, but she’s still under the radar enough that her apartment makes the perfect hideout from the media circus that keeps pulling its show around me. I took the trash out yesterday and got photographed.

Enjoy putting a picture of me with no makeup, greasy hair, and sweatpants on your front pages, fuckers.

Ryann’s place is my place—for now. And tonight, we get the added bonus of Macey for a girls’ night in.

And God only knows I need one.

Since I found out that my secret was no longer a secret, my heart has dropped so far that I’m certain it’s exited my body completely. If it’s still in there, still beating, it’s a dull, lifeless throb. Right now, every part of me is giving up.

My worst fears have come to light. All I have is that the most important people in fashion saw the previews of my collection before they knew it was mine. All I can hope for now is some respect from that, not because of who I am.

Everything I worked for has been ripped out from under me, even if my items are already selling out on the QD website. I don’t care about that or that the fact that Quinn is probably going to hand me a huge-ass contract to tie me down to him for the next few years. I don’t care that everyone is buzzing with the news that Leah Veronica, private and elusive daughter of Grace Veronica, is a big-shot fashion designer.

I don’t even care that my friends are amazed or that I had Cole calling me and tearing me a new asshole for keeping it from him.

What I care about is that the dream is over.

And so is the hope that Corey Jackson was something other than the egotistical, selfish asshole I once thought he was.

He proved me right and wrong all in one swoop, and what a way to do it. Expose my biggest secret, the one thing that meant the world to me, right after he spent hours inside me. Nice one, dickhead. He really fucking starred there. Give him a medal, someone.

The worst thing is that, when I think back to the moment I found out, I’m not sure which hurt most. I don’t know if the cause of my uncontrollable tears was because I was found out or because he betrayed me.

I don’t know which one my heart broke more for. I don’t know which one it hurts more right now.

In fact, I’m so numb that I’m not even sure if it hurts anymore.

“I still can’t believe you did it for
six
years and nobody found out.” Ryann passes me a glass of wine and curls up on the sofa next to me.

“I had to,” I say quietly into my glass.

“I get it. Believe me, I do. Like, you have this huge pressure on your shoulders to be as successful as your mom is, right? So, by keeping it secret, it didn’t matter if you failed because it would never be connected to you.”

“Right. Except now I’ll never know because it’ll fly by default. It’ll fly because my name is attached to it.”

“Maybe not.” Ryann shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s bad. I saw some of your designs in college, and damn, Leah, but the only pressure you have now is keeping it going. It doesn’t matter if your work is bad or good. People will buy it if they want it. And hey—if it’s shit, the critics will tell you.”

“The critics will lie so they don’t piss off my mom,” I murmur.

“No, they won’t. They’ll be honest because that’s their job. So just go out there, do your thing, and show the world you’re not just Leah, Grace Veronica’s daughter. You are Leah Veronica and you are a badass and you’re going to take over the fashion industry because you can!”

I look at my best friend, a smile growing on my face. Of course Ryann would be the first person to do that. “You’re right,” I admit. “And hey, at least I can design your Oscars dress now.”

She fans herself. “Oh, Lordy, the Oscars. I’m going to die.”

“You’ll have to go with Cole.” I wink.

Ryann freezes then drops her head back, her tongue flopping out one side of her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“You killed me.” She sits up, laughing. “We start filming in two weeks and I can’t even be around him. I swear, you’re a goddess. How do you keep your ovaries from going boom boom?”

I cover my mouth with my hand. “Um, he’s kind of like my brother. I’d be afraid if my ovaries went ‘boom boom!’”

She sighs and sips her wine. “I suppose. It’s been a while since I had the ovary boom boom, so it’s nice to know they’re still in there, picking out my future baby daddy.”

“I hear you.” My smile drops a little. So I never imagined anything with Corey past the right now, but my ovaries definitely did the boom-boom-bop whenever I saw him.

“Shit. That was kind of insensitive. I’m sorry.” Ry bites her lip. “Have you spoken to him?”

“No. Since security carted him out of my hotel, he’s called a few times, but that’s it. I guess he knows I meant what I said. That I’m done.” I look into my glass and spin it so the wine swirls.

“You sure you mean it? ‘Cause the fight you got going on with your tears tells me something else.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I swipe under my eyes. “He violated my trust in the most brutal way, Ry,” I whisper. “He knew what it meant to me to keep it a secret. But he told anyway. There’s no way I could ever trust him again. I never should have in the first place.”

Ry twists her mouth to the side. “I guess. You’ll be okay, you know? He’s just a guy. A fit-as-hell guy, okay, but this is Los Angeles. Cocky, arrogant fucktards are all over the place. This love thing is like the lottery. Sometimes you’ll meet a guy who gives you a good time, but he’s one ball short of the jackpot. Sometimes you don’t match any. Then, eventually, if you’re lucky enough, you’ll nail the Powerball.”

“That’s a new analogy.” I force a smile. “I like this.”

“It’s true. Look at Macey—she thought Mitch was her Powerball. Really, he was like only matching one or two balls week after week. Turns out, he was a dud ticket, anyway.”

“I suppose. And Corey is my ‘one ball short of the jackpot,’ right? He’s nice to look at, can be sweet, and is, you know, killer in the bedroom. It’s a shame he’s just a giant fuckturd.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ryann grins. “Just replace his name with Giant Fuckturd and it won’t seem so bad. Do it in your phone, too. Just because you can.”

She throws it at me, and I stare at her for a moment before setting my glass on the table and bringing up my contacts list. Then I find Corey’s name and edit it.

“There.” I show her the screen. I now have a lot of missed calls and messages from one Giant Fuckturd.

Oddly, it is better. Mostly because the word ‘fuckturd’ is fucking fabulous.

“She had the baby,” Macey grumbles, shoving the front door open and slamming it behind her. “It’s this little fat thing. Looks like a fucking potato on steroids.”

I share a startled but concerned glance with Ryann. “Mace, are you all right?”

She nods totally unconvincingly. “Right as fucking rain. Can we please get some tequila and then find me a guy to fuck?
With
a condom, the pill, and the fucking implant. Hell, shove the NuvaRing in there, too.”

“You could just call Jack,” Ryann snorts, getting up. She grabs a bottle from the kitchen counter and slams it on the coffee table with three shot glasses.

“Hey, you just got a fuck off contract. Why don’t you call the realtor for a bigger house?” Macey snaps, grabbing to the shot glass Ry just poured and tossing it back.

“Whoa.” I look at her. “We get it, all right? We’ve been there since Mitch told you he knocked your cousin up. Don’t take this out on us. You’re not the only one having a shit-ass day.”

Macey closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “You’re right. Ry, I’m sorry.” She looks between us. “It’s just… My aunt sent a bunch of fucking pictures to us this morning. Because, you know, Mitch is such a fabulous catch with his promising law career that’s already on hold while he tends to that bitch’s swollen ankles and varicose veins. Right.”

“And while your cousin is changing shitty diapers and he’s feeding a kid at two a.m, you’re getting a second degree at college,” Ryann reminds her.

“For what though? I can barely pay for the first course,” she huffs.

“But when you’re this hot-shot lawyer yourself, you’ll be able to pay it all off. And he’ll still be changing shitty butts.” Ryann grins.

“And you don’t have swollen ankles or varicose veins,” I point out. Hey, if we can focus on her shit instead of mine, it works for me.

“And I’m not going to because I’m too selfish to have a kid. Besides, that would mean commitment and stuff. Mitch beat that shit right out of me with a ten-ton hammer.”

“Mace, don’t give his cock so much credit.”

Her eyes snap to me and she laughs loudly. “Oh, girls. I swear, I don’t know why I stayed with him, but it wasn’t for his cock. Mr. Jack Rabbit packs more inches
and
girth than he ever did.”

“I wonder what Cole’s cock is like.”

“Oh my God, no!” I hold my hands out to Ryann. “No, no, no! That’s wrong on so many levels!”

“I’m deprived!” she cries, pouring three tequila shots. The doorbell rings and she walks backward toward the door. “I swear, my vagina is so out of action it has cobwebs on its cobwebs. Oh. Er, hi.”

“Pizza for Ryann? Or is it cobweb vagina?”

I bury my face in my hands, laughing. Macey isn’t as discreet, and she shrieks her giggles, rolling back on the armchair. Ryann stutters something then slams the door.

“Did you pay for that with cash or is he willing to clear your cobwebs?” Macey sniggers, opening one of the boxes.

“Oh my God.” Ryann presses her hands to her cheeks. “Why did I not think before I opened the door?”

“Because you’re the clumsy one who always makes a bad day good again?” Macey offers, picking up and dropping a pizza slice in half a second. “Hoooo. Hot.”

“What she said.” I nod toward Macey, grabbing my shot glass. “Ten minutes ago, I was trying not to cry, and now, I’m crying from laughter.”

Macey scoffs at me. “Next time you wanna cry over that dickbitch, call me and I’ll beat those tears right out of you.”

“For real,” Ryann adds, her cheeks back to their normal pale pink. “No sad tears. Only happy tears. Especially not over fuckturds. House rules.” She grabs some pizza and snatches a bite from the end. With a full mouth, she says, “I need to get my gran to cross-stitch that for me.”

“See? You make me laugh.” I look from Ryann to Macey. “And you threaten this. This is why it’s impossible to be have a broken heart around you guys.”