Layers: Book One (30 page)

“Grant International?”

“Long story, Lanie. I’ll see you at the hanger.”

“Okay.”

Lane gets out of Jaxson’s new Rover and opens the back door.

“What the hell are you doing? Since when do I sit in the back?”

“I know, I know. Its just habit.”

He grabs my bag and puts it in the back. I get in the passenger side and we drive out of the gate.

He gives me a sideward glance. “You look good but thin. Have you lost weight?”

“If you tell me the tatas look bigger and ask to see a tit—I’ll scream.”

“What?

“Never mind. Another long story.”

“A story, I’d love to hear,” he says with a raised brow.

“Maybe some other time, dude.”

“Some other time then, dudla.”

“How is everyone at the estate?”

“Good. Everyone misses you. Mom wants you to call her when you get a chance.”

“I will.”

“Your last text said that Jaxson was in LA.”

“That’s what he told me but I was wrong. His PA called me a few minutes ago to confirm my drive schedule for next week. I asked her when he would be returning from LA. She said he’s not in LA. He’s been in the city all week.”

“You must have misunderstood.”

“No, he told me a few times that he would be in LA this week.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah.”

“I was going to suggest that we stop and get a bite to eat, but if he’s in town you better just take me to Ryan.”

“That’s another weird thing. He’s staying at the Eventi Hotel.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t a clue. His PA said he’d been staying there all week.”

“Okay, then take me to the Eventi.”

One hour and fifteen minutes later we arrive at the Eventi Hotel.

“Could you hang around for a bit, just in case he’s not in or he refuses to see me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“I’ll leave my bag with you. If all goes well, I’ll text you and have you leave it with the doorman. You don’t happen to know what room he’s in, do you?”

“No, sorry.”

I give him a hug. “Well…wish me luck.”

“Good luck, dudla.”

I walk to the front desk.

“Can I help you?” asks a polite young man with Clark Kent glasses and blond purple highlighted hair.

“Yes, I’m here to meet with one of your guests, Jaxson Ryan. Could you ring his room and see if he’ll see Alexia Keith.”

“Yes, of course. One moment, please.”

He rings the room and I step aside.

What if he’s still angry? What if he won’t see me? He’ll see me––don’t you think? You’re not sure. Well, then cross your fingers. Kneel and pray. Throw salt over your shoulder. Put on those lucky socks and underwear. Do whatever you can, because I need all your good mojo.

“Ms. Keith, you can go on up. He’s in the Eventi Suite. The elevators are to your right.”

“Thank you.”

“Ms. Keith.”

“Yes?”

“Just wanted to say that I love your purple Converse.”

“Thanks, I love your purple hair.”

He smiles. “Thanks.”

Yeah, that’s me the future of Grant International in skinny jeans and purple high tops.

Okay so far so good. I step into the elevator and push the button for the Eventi suite. As it ascends, so does my stomach. God I hope I don’t ralph.

It’s been three weeks and three days since I’ve seen him. God I’ve missed him. Crap, I didn’t even check my face. What if I look like hell? Do I really care? Hell no! In the past four days, I’ve become a CEO, an expectant mother of twins, and filed for divorce. I’m lucky to be standing.

The elevator doors open and I step out and walk to the Eventi Suite. When I reach the door, I stand and stare at it. Yeah, that’s what I do…stand and stare at the door. Why is this so freakin’ hard? This is the man that I love. My Jax. He loves me and he’ll never stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, then one more. God, I need a drink—
of
milk
. Okay, buck up Alexia. You can do this. Pull up your big girl panties.

I knock three times. He doesn’t come to the door. I knock again. Maybe he ditched me. Just when I’m about to knock again it opens.

Fuck me.

A woman wearing a bed sheet is standing in front of me. Yes, I said sheet. A fucking sheet!

We just stand and gawk at each other for a minute. Her mouth starts to move but I can’t hear her because of the loud ringing in my ears. It’s weird I’m looking at her but it’s like looking through a peephole—distorted and tunneled. Holy hell—I’m about to pass out.

I lean on the door casing and close my eyes until the ringing in my ears stops. I open my eyes. Fuck. She’s still there.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

I try to move my mouth, but it’s frozen.

“I think you have the wrong room,” she says with a scowl.

God how I wish that were true. I’d give anything for a wrong room. But it’s not. I know the score—I’ve played this game before. I never thought I’d be playing it with Jaxson.
Never.
I’m such a stupid, stupid girl.

I know this woman, the one that’s standing in a bed sheet that barely covers her ass. It’s Tinker Hell, Mia. The ex-fucking-wife.

“I don’t know who you are, but you need to leave,” she huffs.

She
so
knows who I am. Bitch!

She begins to close the door but I push it back. I have to know for sure.

“Is this…?” Then I hear him.

My heart skips a beat.

“Mia, who’s at the door? Is it room service? I ordered some champagne. Dinner’s not until eight, so if you’re hungry, order some appetizers.”

Then it stops.

“Okay, Jaxson dear,” she whine–purrs. “It’s not room service it’s just…someone that has the wrong room.” She gives me a triumphant smile.

It takes every ounce of my restraint not to throttle her Tinker ass.

My mouth starts to move and I can hear what I’m saying but it’s like it’s coming from someone else. “Yes, I…I have…I definitely have the wrong room.”

I step back and she starts to close the door, then stops.

“I almost feel sorry for you. You really did fall for him—I can see it in your eyes. But it would have never worked out. You see, Jaxson strays but he always comes back to me. Always.”

She shuts the door and once again, I find myself standing and staring at a closed door. I just stand and stare at it, for how long—
seconds, minutes, hours–
–I don’t have clue I can’t think. I can’t feel. I can’t breathe. I can’t even cry. You need a heart to do I’ll those things—I don’t have one anymore.

I wanted the fairytale the happily–ever–after–ending. Silly me, I forgot that I’m not Cinderella. No glass slipper for this girl. No Prince Charming. No Fairy Godmother. You stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

Somehow I make it into the elevator.
Somehow
I push the lobby button. As the elevator descends my stomach ascends. Holy hell. I’m going to ralph. Fuck!

I turn and puke in the corner. Yes…that’s what I did. I ralphed in the corner of an elevator at the mod and posh Eventi Hotel. Fuck me. It stops and opens. Thank God no one is waiting for it.

I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my coat. I step out and walk to the front desk. The same chic nice young man looks up. His eyes widen.

“Are you okay, Ms. Keith. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“No…yes…no I’m not going to pass out but…but I kind of ralphed in the elevator.”

His frowns. “Oh my. Ralphed as in puked?”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you. And again I’m so… sorry.”

He nods and gives me an unsure smile.

I walk through the lobby and step outside. I pull out my iPhone.

“Lane,” I mumble–cry.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“Pick me up.”

“Lex. What’s going on?”

“Please…can…you pick me up.”

“Okay, I’m not far, I’ll be right there.”

I hang up, then call my pilot and tell him to prepare to return to London. He sounded concerned but knew better not to ask.

Lane pulls up in what seems like hours.

He gets out of the Rover. “What the hell?”

He takes my arm. “I’m not feeling well. I think I should sit in the back.”

He frowns. “You look like you’re going to pass out.

He helps me in and I put my head back against the headrest. Soon we’re out into traffic.

“Are you going to be sick?”

“I ralphed in the elevator.”

“You puked in the elevator at the hotel?”

“Yeah. In the corner.”

“Lex. For hell.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I need to go home, Lane.”

“The loft?”

“No. The airport.”

“Lex. What’s going on?”

“Lane, please don’t ask. Please… just don’t.”

“Okay.”

We ride in silence. Unfortunately, I can’t silence my brain. The last few weeks play out in my mind. How did I get things so,
so
fucking wrong?

“Lex, did you see Jaxson?”

“He…he wasn’t in.”

Lane turns and gives me a skeptical look.

“Well, he wasn’t.”

“I don’t believe you. If he wasn’t in then why are you going back to London?”

“Because I realized that things between us would never work. I don’t belong here anymore.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t. I should never have come back.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. It just…I’m just embarrassed. I made you come and get me and now I’m leaving. I just feel stupid for…coming. I should have thought things out. And please don’t tell Jaxson that I came back. It’s just too embarrassing.”

“You don’t have to lie to me Lex. I get it. You don’t what him to know. I won’t tell him. I just don’t want you to lie to me.”

“I’m sorry Lane. Something did happen, but its something that I can’t talk about. So can you let it go?”

He sighs. “Okay, I’ll let it go”

We drive in silence for a few minutes.

“Will you be coming back to New York?”

“I don’t know Lane. I just don’t know.”

THE END FOR NOW

MORE LAYERS 2014

Note 1:
A BIG SHOUT OUT TO ALL MY READERS
. All I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoyed reading Alexia’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a hell of a ride.

Note 2: I want to know what you think. So please, please, please—leave a review.

Note 3: I know what you’re thinking. What the hell! It can’t end like that.

Don’t worry be happy. Alexia’s story continues in More Layers. Look for it in 2014. I’ll keep you posted on it’s release date on my website.

tlalexanderauthor.com

Can’t get enough of Alexia and Jaxson
Check out their photo gallery
Check out Alexia’s Playlist
Keep up to date on Layers news on my blog page