Rage (14 page)

together without her there. We’re usually so tired that we can’t even enjoy it. Last Sunday, I took one of Liam’s toys away, and

he looked me in the face and said, ‘I want Kara’.”

Steph shook her head sympathetically and set down her

drink. She was starting to feel a bit too tipsy and wished that she hadn’t started this conversation. Unsure of what to say that

wouldn’t sound bitter, she vamped for time. “So what are you

going to do?”

Cheyenne shrugged with a smile. “I plan to get out of this

dress, finish this drink, and gorge myself on chocolate.”

Steph exhaled. “I guess I kind of dodged a bullet.”

Cheyenne face fell, and she went pale. She raised her glass

to Steph. “Who’s the asshole now?”

Steph tapped Cheyenne’s bottle with her own on autopilot.

She wished she could find a way to make Cheyenne see how

lucky she was.

86

Phillip drove his dune buggy down the third world road like

he was a stunt man in some Mad Max-style post-apocalyptic

movie. He’d stumbled up to eat breakfast at the restaurant and

realized he was terribly late. After running back to his room after breakfast for a quick shower, he missed the shuttle ride to the

boat for today’s excursion. He was glad he’d had the forethought to rent the buggy. He was sure that Yara would be pissed that

he’d overslept, but at least he was hangover-free, which was

more than he could say for David, Scot, and Bret.

Nathan looked relatively normal at breakfast, but he’d been

a lot more focused on sex than alcohol as of late, so he had bags under his eyes, but a smile on his face. Phillip remembered those days fondly. He tried to derail that particular train of thought, but after having Steph in his arms the night before, that was an impossible mission. Her hair had smelled like peppermint, and

when she turned those eyes up at him, he’d nearly kissed her.

Old habits die hard.

He pulled up to the dock, and a quick headcount revealed

the only people conspicuously missing were the nanny and Liam.

He saw Cedric boarding the boat behind Saffron, and thought

about turning around and driving away. He’d managed to avoid

the priest the previous evening and was contented with keeping

the rest of the trip confrontation free.

He found a spot toward the back of the yacht far away from

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Cedric and his fan club. He’d manage to suppress a laugh when

Bret complained the night before that even a priest got more ac-

tion that he did. As Phillip climbed aboard, all three bridesmaids chattered with Cedric in Portuguese, which the priest in turn

translated for Bret. Yara and her parents were deep in discussion about the latest wedding drama. He purposefully went to the far

back of the boat, where Scot and Cheyenne were cuddled up to-

gether, making him soon feel like a third wheel. In the center of the boat, Nathan and David puffed on cigars in the wheelhouse,

while right outside, in full view of Phillip, Saffron made quite a production of rubbing sunscreen all over Stephanie, which

turned out to be an incredibly riveting sight. Steph had on a pink two-piece, and her body looked unreal. Whatever her workout

was, he wanted to sign up for the thirty day free trial. Saffron caught him watching them and gave him a conspiratorial nod.

They set out toward the smaller islands for a sail-by. The

untouched beauty made for stunning views, yet he found himself

distracted by Stephanie, who perpetually bounced from one side

of the boat to the other taking pictures. As they rounded the islands and headed back in the opposite direction, D.J. Dave fired up his playlist. The boat took on a party atmosphere. Not long

after, Nathan and Steph cheered foolishly when a saccharine

sweet Ke$ha song came on. The pair jumped to their feet and

danced enthusiastically around the deck. As Steph danced by

him, he caught a glimpse of the scar to the lower right of her naval. It was surprisingly large and jagged; the scar of an emergen-cy, not a planned precise incision. She seemed completely un-

concerned about covering it. Saffron joined the dancing, and she seemed intent on grinding on Steph for Nathan’s viewing pleasure. Nathan soon became the meat in their dance party sandwich,

and Steph carelessly twirled away and bumped David’s hip with

her own on her way to sit with Cedric. David shook his head,

smiling at Steph and then approached Phillip, sympathetically

handing him a beer.

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RAGE

An hour later, their yacht arrived at Dolphin Bay. The entire

ship was surrounded by the creatures, and Steph’s camera made

continuous noise as their acrobatics entertained everyone on

board. Steph leaned over Phillip’s lap for several minutes during that portion of the trip, and perched beside him to capture her

shots as the dolphins swarmed his side of the boat. Her delighted laughter twisted him in painful knots, and he nearly crawled out of his skin at her nearness.

A short while later, they dropped anchor at Pria do Sancho,

arguably the most beautiful beach in Brazil, according to all of the literature. Phillip couldn’t speak to that, but it was awe-inspiring. He pulled off his shirt and shorts and dove into the

water. Most of the group was going snorkeling, but several peo-

ple made directly for the beach and the tiny bar. Phillip saw

Steph wading through the clear water holding her miniature

backpack protectively over her head. He tried to close his eyes

and enjoy the sun, but found himself peeking at her from behind

his sunglasses. Once she was on the sand, she dried off her feet and pulled sneakers and her camera from her backpack. She

slung both over her shoulder and made for the stairs that lead to a crevice which the guide had informed them contained a treacherous ladder leading straight up the cliff face. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. Of course she’d climb the cliff. The pictures would be better from above.

Phillip walked out of the water and made his way toward

the towels the crew had stashed nearby. He heard a phone ring. It was the first time he’d heard one on the island, since coverage

was terrible and international calling was an issue. He saw Steph stop mid-stride and dig in her backpack. She pulled out a sat

phone. She was always the first one to have a gadget. He won-

dered why he hadn’t thought to get one. Steph looked at the

number on the display, and her shoulders sagged. Then she an-

swered.

“Christopher?” The acoustics of the cliffs rocketed her

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voice at him.

Christopher. Her “agent”.

“I know. It just took me by surprise.” She was pacing slow-

ly back and forth in the sand, twisting a piece of her curly hair around her finger. She always did that when she was nervous.

“I know. I know. I don’t disagree with you. What?” She

covered her ear as if she were having trouble hearing him. She

suddenly looked around as if trying to make sure no one was

listening. Phillip rested back on his towel as if he were innocently sunbathing instead of eavesdropping on his ex-girlfriend’s

private phone calls. He was feeling decidedly creepy, but his

curiosity won out.

“Chris, you
know
how I feel about you.”

Phillip went from curious to outraged in one second flat.

That sorry son of a bitch must have told her he loved her. And

she was handing Christopher the same line of bullshit she had

him. He almost felt sorry for the tosser. Then he remembered the Music Video Awards.

They’d just cleaned house, winning three awards, and Da-

vid and Nathan wanted to celebrate at the after-party. Bret and

Scot were in Sydney doing some promo, so it was up to the three

of them to represent. They’d been doing tequila shots for about a half hour when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned, expecting yet another obnoxious female advance. He was startled to see a tall stranger in an expensive suit glaring at him.

“I’m Christopher Hoult.” The man announced. Phillip had

stuck his hand out automatically. He’d been meeting people all

night, after all. Christopher looked down at Phillip’s hand and

huffed.

When he spoke again, his tone was cold and his speech

clipped. “I’m not here on a social call. I represent Stephanie Brier.”

Phillip’s hand fell to his side. The sound of her name still

emasculated him. Phillip squared his shoulders in preparation for 90

RAGE

whatever repercussions he was about to experience. The video

was all over the music stations and number one on their count-

downs across the board. Making the video had been incredibly

cathartic, and he still felt righteously indignant about Clive Richards rubbing his nose in his tryst with her.

“Is she filing a lawsuit? My lawyers assure me the video is

neither slander nor libel!” Phillip scoffed and promptly did an-

other shot.

“I’m her agent.
Not
her lawyer,” the man replied.

Surprised, Phillip turned to Nathan. “Hey, mate. It’s Steph’s

agent. Times must be hard if she’s thinking of working with Fury again.”

The man took a menacing step toward Phillip, and his smile

disappeared. Something about his stance and the way he looked

at Phillip spoke volumes about the dynamic of his relationship

with Stephanie. It was obvious that his concern for her was more than just professional.

“That video was unacceptable. I certainly hope the pain it

caused her it was worth the closure you so desperately needed.”

Phillip started to turn away from him toward his drink. He

didn’t need a behavioral lecture from someone who only knew

what Steph wanted him to know about the situation. “Toss off.

You don’t know anything about it.”

“Perhaps it’s time you learn to deal with your problems like

a man instead of an egotistical bastard.” Christopher’s hard eyes demanded respect. Phillip’s temper flared. He flashed back to

Callahan and didn’t enjoy another person interpreting his behav-

ior in the same manner.

“Maybe if Ms. Brier takes issue with the way I conduct

business, she should fight her own battles instead of sending her employee.” Phillip’s curt response was met with glowering ha-tred. No one looked like that in defense of his client. He was

most definitely sleeping with her.

“Maybe you should stop toying with little girls and face

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someone your own size.” Christopher was close enough that

when he spoke, his spittle hit Phillip’s cheek. Phillip wiped it off with the back of his hand and chuckled.

“You see anyone around here that’s my size, you go ahead

and send ‘em my way.” Phillip completely turned his back on

Christopher and took a step in the direction of the loo. He wasn’t expecting what came next. Suddenly someone had him by the

hair. He felt himself spun around and Christopher hauled back

and hit him in the eye with the full force of his body. Phillip was stunned by the impact of his soccer riot style punch. He realized as the second blow came that he’d seriously underestimated two

things. One, Christopher was a bezerker that obviously had some

street cred. Two, Christopher was clearly in love with Stephanie.

As Christopher hauled back for a third hit, Phillip went into

full-blown defense mode. He whipped forward and head-butted

him. Christopher stumbled backward with blood gushing from

his nose, and Phillip seized the opportunity, rushing him and

tackling him to the ground.

He saw a psychotic look in Christopher’s eyes as he lashed

out at Phillip again, this time landing a punch in his temple.

Dazed, Phillip knew he had no choice but to put him down. He

wasn’t sure how many times he punched Christopher before he

felt arms around him pulling him upward and backward. David

was screaming in his ear.

“Enough, Phillip, enough!” Fury’s security team arrived on

the scene and rushed the three of them to the limo. They were on the road by the time he realized just how badly Christopher

messed him up. He passed out, and when he woke, he was told

that he had a concussion and he wasn’t allowed to sleep for

hours. David sat vigil beside his bed and pestered him relentless-ly, lecturing him for fighting.

The blaring sound of the boat’s horn startled Phillip, yank-

ing him back to the present. He whipped his head in the direction of the wheelhouse to see Nathan doing God-knows-what with