Dangerous Temptations (24 page)
I woke up to a completely dark room. The sun had set and covered the sky a dark blue. It took me a minute to remember where I was, but then I felt the cool comforter against me and remembered.
I was in a hotel room, alone.
A knock on the door startled me, making me jump up into a sitting position. I looked at the clock and saw it was past nine. I had slept most of the day and hadn’t really eaten either. I turned on the light and slowly made my way across the room. Another knock came before I could answer it.
“Who is it?”
“Concierge, ma’am. I have your luggage. I looked through the peephole and saw a suited man standing next to a cart with my Louis Vuitton suitcases. I unlocked the door and let him in. “Evening, ma’am. Where would you like me to put your bags?”
I pointed to the other side of my bed. “Over there is fine, thank you.” I watched as he grabbed two of my bags and placed them on the floor. He walked back to the cart and grabbed the last one, putting it next to the other two. Just as he turned around, I realized I didn’t have any cash on me to tip him. “Crap, I’m so sorry. I don’t have any money—”
“Oh, no worries, ma’am. It’s been taken care of.” He smiled and began walking toward the door.
“Oh…okay. Well, thank you.” I walked him to the door and saw him out. I looked around the quiet room, feeling alone and scared and really unsure of what to do next. I knew I needed some time. Time to figure this out. Time to figure myself out. Time to really come to terms with how much my life was changing.
I grabbed my phone and saw that Alex had messaged me a half hour ago letting me know my things were being delivered. I sent him a quick text back thanking him. As much as I was upset with him, I couldn’t help but appreciate how he always came to my rescue. Still—it didn’t change anything for me. My trust for him was gone.
I ORDERED ROOM
service and fell asleep watching shitty infomercials. I woke up Saturday morning sometime before the sun rising and the moon fading. I had no energy to do anything but cry. Cry for the mistakes I’ve made, cry for the life I was leaving behind, cry because I didn’t know what else to do.
This last month’s been emotionally and mentally draining. I couldn’t even grasp what my next step was right now. I knew I needed to make plans to move, to cancel all the wedding arrangements, to end all ties with the Lancasters—but I didn’t even know where to start.
Knowing people were reading the article about me—about my personal life and the assumptions they had broadcasted—made me sick. I was humiliated and had no one to blame but myself.
I clicked through the TV channels, not finding anything to keep my interest long enough to help me forget. I ended up turning it off and sinking back into the covers. I wasn’t ready to face anyone or anything yet.
I woke up to a knock on the door. The sun was fully shining through the blinds, capturing my attention on the clock. 3:39 p.m.
Shit. I slept all day.
The knock came again, reminding me why I woke up in the first place. I threw the covers off and walked through the bedroom area and into the living space. “Who is it?” I called out.
“Room service, ma’am.”
I narrowed my brows in confusion, knowing I hadn’t ordered anything. I peeked through the hole and saw a waiter with a cart of food. “I didn’t order any food,” I said through the door.
“It was ordered on your behalf, ma’am. Eggs, bacon, toast with jelly, and pancakes. Butter and syrup on the side.”
I sucked in my lower lip, hesitant at first, but then opened the door. “Who ordered it?” I asked, but I already knew.
“A Mr. Alexander Lancaster, ma’am.” He smiled in returned.
I took a step back and let him wheel the cart into the room. He took the covers off the platters and told me to enjoy. I thanked him and walked him out.
The food smelled amazing, the aroma of maple and bacon capturing my senses. I grabbed my phone and turned it on, noticing a text from Alex.
You need to eat.
I rolled the cart to my side of the bed and sat down, putting a plate on my lap as I shoved a piece of bacon in my mouth.
How do you know I haven’t?
I texted back. I forked some scrambled eggs and layered it on my toast. A new text came in just as I finished the entire piece.
Because I called and checked your room service history.
I wasn’t sure if I felt irritated or happy he was checking up on me. I wanted to be mad at him, hate him. I was upset that he knew I was going to confess everything to William while knowing he had lied to me. I was upset with William for lying to me about everything—about our entire relationship, thinking he was one person and turning out to be completely someone I didn’t recognize. And mostly, I was upset with myself.
Well, you can stop checking up on me. I’m a big girl,
I decided to text back. I needed to do this on my own, without my heart getting in the way. I needed to pick up the pieces of my life and somehow put them back together.
I can’t stop, Mac. Let me come see you. Please,
he responded. I placed my plate back up on the cart, suddenly losing my appetite at the thought of Alex’s pleading voice. I knew what that voice sounded like, what his face looked like while saying it. He was intimidating, demanding, and bossy as hell. But he had a vulnerable side to him. The side that had made me fall for him in the first place.
I can’t do this right now.
I hit send and turned my phone off. I wasn’t ready to deal with anything.
I stayed in bed the rest of the night switching between dozing off and crying. It was the first time I really wished I had my mom. Throughout all our struggles and the let downs, my heart was breaking, my life was turning upside down, and sometimes, a girl just wanted her mom.
But I didn’t have a mom.
The hotel phone rang, startling me from my self-induced sleep coma. The clock flashed 10:25 a.m., and I knew I had slept the entire night away. I reached over and grabbed it. “Hello?”
“Good morning, ma’am. We have a woman here requesting to see you, but there’s been a block for all visitors on your account.”
A woman? “Who is it?”
“A Miss Staci Millard.”
“Oh…yes, you can send her up.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
I braced myself for what was to come. I’m sure she had called me a hundred times since I had turned my phone off, but I just wasn’t in the mood for anyone’s pity. Hell, I was sick of my own.
Five minutes later, a knock on the door announced Staci’s arrival. I peeked through the hole just in case and saw an anxious, worried Staci on the other side. I opened it up slowly, waiting for the ambush of questions and demands.
“Oh…my…god…” she drew out slowly. “You look awful.”
I waved my arm out, motioning for her to come in. “Well, by all means, come on in.”
“Sorry,” she said, curling her lip. “I just mean…”
“I know what you mean.” I shut the door behind her. “I’m a mess.”
“Well…” She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s why I’m here!” She wrapped her arms around me and engulfed me a big bear hug.
I pulled my arms around her and hugged her back. “You didn’t need to come,” I offered, pulling away. “There’s not much anyone can do anyway.”
She looked at me almost offended. “I’ve been calling and texting you nonstop. I was worried.”
“I’m sorry.” I shrugged, defeated.
“I’m only here to be with you, Mac,” she explained. “For the support, to help you forget, to help you make plans, whatever you need.”
I walked back into the bedroom area and sat down, patting the spot next to me so she’d join me. “I don’t know what to do, Stace. I mean, I know what
needs
to get done, I just don’t know if I have the strength to do it.”
She grabbed my hand and covered it with hers. “You’re one of the strongest, bravest people I know. You don’t need to decide right now, but just know, you will need to decide at some point.”
“I know.” My shoulders slumped as I brought my knees to my chest. “I feel like an idiot. I’m so embarrassed, Stace. It’s one thing to have rumors spread about you, but it’s an entirely different thing to have them be true. At least people can speculate and assume, pointing their fingers and passing judgments.” I focused on the wall in front of me, burning my eyes into the tanned-colored paint. “But then I’d be able to prove them wrong, show up with William somewhere, and broadcast our love, shutting everyone up. But this…I can’t cover it up. The engagement’s over, I’ll be moving out, people will know. They’ll know the rumors were true.”
“Yeah, they will.” She shrugged her shoulders. “But who cares? At the end of the day, it’s your life. More stories will be written; more gossip and rumors will be said. In five years, it won’t even matter.”
I wrapped my arms around my knees and bowed my head. “Well, it matters now though. I hate how people know who I am, and think they can write stories about me and my life, and how they even pretend to care just to make money off me.”
“You never wanted to be in the spotlight anyway, Mac.” She soothingly rubbed her hand across my back. “This is a good thing. They’ll see that the engagement is off and it’ll be the end of their cash cow.”
“Are you calling me a cow?” I smirked, curling my lip in amusement.
“I’ll call you whatever it takes to make you smile.” She grinned.
“You’re such a bitch.”
“But I’m your favorite bitch.”
We laughed and she leaned in to hug me. Laughter felt good. It was the first time in two days that I’d been able to and having Staci by my side was the best comfort I could’ve asked for.
“Any chance you’re looking for a new roommate?”
“Well…I
was
thinking of finding someone to sleep on my couch and dirty up my dishes. So, I guess you’re in luck!” She smirked, and I wrinkled my nose at her. “Of course,” she said genuinely, then added, “Stay as long as you need, okay?”
“Thanks, Stace. I appreciate that.”
We hung out and watched TV together, doing nothing much at all. It was perfect. It helped distract me and for a while, I forgot about everything.
I DIDN’T FORGET
long though. As I walked out of the hotel Monday morning, I was swarmed with cameras and paparazzi bombarding me with questions and comments. I called ahead of time for a cab so I could escape them as fast as possible. A couple of the hotel employees pushed them away and yelled at them to leave, but they followed me until I was in the cab and finally took off.
“That’s something I could never get used to,” the cab driver surprised me by saying when we finally made it a safe distance away.
I breathed out and sunk deeper into the seat. “Yeah…you and me both.” I leaned against the door and closed my eyes.
I can do this…I can do this…
I had no idea what to expect once I arrived to work. I hadn’t spoken to my boss or assistant or even checked my email. I had every intention of walking in and not letting my personal life affect my professional life.
I paid the driver and let myself out. The sidewalk was crowded with people walking to work, the sun was shining brightly over me, and the air had a nice warm breeze to it.
Yes, I can do this.
I walked into my office confidently with my head held high. I knew the glances and whispers were about me, but I wasn’t going to let them get to me. I was here to focus on work.
“Mackenzie!” I cringed the second I heard Laura’s high-pitched nail-scraping voice. “My office.
Now
!”
I dropped my purse on the desk and adjusted my shirt before walking through the glass doors. Her office was stunning, always bright and welcoming—the complete opposite of her.
“Yes?” I slowly shut the door behind me and stood in front of her, waiting for her to lecture and probably fire me.
She slammed a newspaper down on her desk, facing it toward me. It was a new article I hadn’t even seen yet. I read the headline. ‘New York’s Fashionista, Mackenzie Hewitt from
Boxy
Magazine,
caught in a cheating scandal!’ Underneath it was the same pictures from the initial article and more gossip written below that.
I wanted to die.
Just kill me. Anything
, I pleaded with God. My cheeks heated, embarrassed and ashamed of having to stand in front of my boss—someone I looked up to immensely—with my dirty laundry airing for all to see.
“Now…usually I say there’s no such thing as bad press—” She stood tall with her arms crossed and her legs parted. “—but this may be my exception.”
“Laura, I am so sorry!” I cried. “I had no idea they were running that story, no idea
why
they ran that story, and I swear—I’d never jeopardize the magazine’s reputation.”
“Is it true?” Her question startled me. My eyes went wide as I looked at her intense glare.
“Partially,” I stated. “At the time they took those pictures, no.”
She swallowed. “I see.”
“Laura, please…I swear I won’t let this affect my work. I’ll be focused one hundred percent.” I was beginning to panic. My palms were sweating and my heart was pounding in my chest at the thought of getting fired.
“Mackenzie, relax.” Her voice turned soft, but her eyes remained tense. “I just wanted to know what we were getting into. I will make sure all employees sign a waiver to protect your privacy.”
“Really?” I gasped, on the verge of tears at her reassuring words. “Oh my god. Thank you!” I clasped my hands over my mouth, surprised she didn’t tell me to leave and never come back.
“But the minute this affects the quality of your work, we’ll be re-analyzing your position.” She was back to her stern, don’t-mess-with-me tone.
I nodded frantically in complete understanding. “Yes, of course. You won’t have to worry, I promise.” I gave a small smile in return, confident and reassuring, as she dismissed me from her office.
I could barely wait to get back to my desk and get to work. I needed the distraction.
“Good morning,” Chelsea greeted over-enthusiastically. I watched as she set her things down and walked toward me.
“Morning,” I said back, wondering if she was going to ask me about the rumors, too.
“How was your weekend?” she asked, setting a cup of coffee down in front of me and smiled.
I narrowed my brows at her. She wasn’t that dense, but perhaps she was waiting to see if I brought it up first.
“I’ve had better,” was all I offered in return. I grabbed the coffee and took a sip. “How was yours?”
“Busy.” She smiled. “I emailed you all of your phone messages from last week, including the ones from the
New York Post.”
I swallowed in return. I hadn’t even glanced at my email or checked my voicemails since last Wednesday. “Also, the assignments I worked on and the ones due this week.” She smiled one last time before turning around and returning to her desk.
“Thanks,” was all I said. I was behind on returning blog comments, setting up blog posts, and checking emails. I wasn’t going to waste my time worrying about the newspaper or what people in my office were probably saying about me.
I plugged my headphones in and went to work. The voice of Adam Levine helped keep me calm and distracted most of the day. By the time it was ready to go, I hadn’t even realized eight hours had flown by.
“Mackenzie?” I heard Chelsea call out right before I was about to walk to the elevator.
“Yeah?”
“You have a call.”
“From who?” I asked, guarded.
“Mr. Lancaster.”
I swallowed nervously, knowing I had to get it over with eventually. “Okay, put him through on my line, please.”
I sat back down at my desk and answered, “William…”
“Mackenzie, finally,” he breathed out in relief.
“What is it?”
“You need to come home. We need to talk.”
“We’ll talk,” I reassured him. “Just not now. I need some time.”
“All right. I’m flying out Tuesday. Can we meet up Friday night?”
Of course he is. “Sure. I’ll come around seven.”
“Great. It’s been quite quiet without you here.”
I forced the tears back as I heard the pain in his voice. I still loved him. I would always love him, but I knew it wasn’t enough. “I imagine it has,” was all I could say back. We said our goodbyes and I walked away feeling sad and lonely.
As I walked into the office, I noticed people hushing every time I went past them. They quietly looked at me—watching me—as I exited the building. It was bad enough it felt as if my life were crumbling before me, but now it was on full display for everyone to watch.