Authors: Olivia Evans
“Indeed.” Pulling Josie out the front door, Madison led them down the steps and to Josie’s car.
For the next several hours, Josie painted walls and exchanged quips with Madison, Holden, and Philip, who would also be joining the staff once the restaurant opened. The distraction was nice, but it didn’t last. Every time silence settled over the group, her mind drifted back to Anders.
She wondered what he was doing, if he was thinking about her, or, better yet, if she even wanted him to be. In the four days since storming out of his house, he hadn’t contacted her once. The incessant questions filled her with self-loathing. It was her decision to walk away from their relationship, and with good reason, but time had a way of softening anger, distancing the hurt. That was the worst thing that could happen because he wasn’t going to change and she didn’t trust him.
She’d shut down as best she could, but no matter how much she fought to hold onto the anger, she just felt hollow. She missed him. She missed his smell, his touch, and way he breathed her name against her skin.
Her arm felt heavy as she lifted the paintbrush and dragged it across the coarse drywall. When her vision blurred from the tears shimmering in her eyes, she knew she was done for the day. It made no sense to be so hurt by someone like Anders. Bitter and closed-off, he’d fought harder to keep her at arm’s length than he had to hold her close. Nothing about their relationship had been logical.
Feelings she never experienced sucked her under and swept her away. It was as if she was truly living and experiencing life for the first time. It made her realize how empty her life had been before Anders.
He made her feel anticipation, fear, longing... Love. It was maddeningly perfect and tragically flawed, but it was real, tangible. She could touch it, breathe it, and feel it in every part of her. Now it was gone, ripped away as quickly as it had come, and the hole its absence left behind was gaping and jagged. The place where he sank into her soul, unbidden and unwanted yet perfectly fulfilling, would never be the same.
“You okay?” Philip asked.
Josie dropped the brush and scrubbed her hands over her face, unnerved by the way they slid over her skin, slickened with tears she didn’t realize had fallen.
“Yeah. I’m just tired. I’m going to head out. Do you mind letting Maddie and Holden know?” She moved her brush to the murky bucket of water and stood.
“Yeah. Sure,” he stammered.
After thanking him, Josie grabbed her things and walked to her car. Tossing her purse in the passenger seat, the contents spilled out the top. With a sigh, she pushed the items back inside, stiffening when she noticed a familiar key.
“No,” she exhaled. With trembling fingers, she wrapped her hand around the key. Dropping her hand to her lap, she stared at the silver object lying over her palm. She didn’t realize she still had it. The memory of the last time she used it replayed in her mind. She lifted it between her fingers and pressed her thumb in the grooves, imprinting its mark in her skin the way he’d done on her heart. With a stuttering exhale she pulled her finger away and stared at the hollowed indentions. The sunken holes a perfect replica of how she imagined her heart must look.
A feeling of restlessness washed over her. She didn’t want to have anything of his. As insignificant as the object was, what it stood for was anything but. It was a link, something that connected them and left the door open for communication. She could throw it out, but what if he called and asked her to return it? What if she kept it and he never called? She wasn’t sure which would be worse. With a determined exhale she changed her destination and headed in the direction of the studio. Leaving the key in his trailer would be for the best.
While Josie cursed traffic, Anders threw his sweat-soaked towel into the laundry room and downed a third glass of water. After leaving Aubrey in his trailer, he headed straight to the gym. On the drive over, he called Nathan and recounted his confrontation with Aubrey before informing Nathan to handle the rest. Nathan tried to ask questions, find out how things were with Josie, but the very mention of her name caused Anders to lash out and put an abrupt end to their conversation.
It felt good to tell Aubrey what he’d wanted to for weeks. A little of himself reemerged, the part that didn’t take shit from anybody, but as cool and collected as he appeared on the outside, on the inside he was a wreck. The thought of following through with his threat to Aubrey made his stomach turn which in turn pissed him off. There was no reason he shouldn’t or couldn’t do what he threatened. His relationship with Josie was over. He was free to do as he pleased.
There was no going back. It was final just like when his relationship with Eva had ended. However, this time, he wasn’t the one hurt and betrayed; it was Josie. Even though he didn’t do what she had accused, it pained him to know she felt the same hurt he’d experienced when it had happened to him.
Shaking his head, he set his glass in the sink, retreated to his living room, and fell on the couch. The situation with Josie wasn’t the same as with Eva. He’d known Eva almost his entire life. He’d loved her, and she’d screwed him over in every way imaginable. Which is the reason he couldn’t understand why the very thought of not being with Josie hurt so much more.
Maybe if he told Josie about Eva, Nicholas, and his parents, she’d understand why he’d never cheat. Or maybe she’d tell him to fuck off, and he’d look like a pathetic fool all over again. After all, the last time he made himself vulnerable to a woman, she almost ruined him.
The buzzer for the gate yanked him from his thoughts. He walked to the intercom, his heart beating a little faster when his first thought was that it could be Josie. When a masculine voice crackled over the speaker, Anders’ jaw clenched with annoyance. He didn’t need Josie to make him feel like a pathetic fool, he was doing fine on his own.
He opened the front door and waited as a courier pulled up the driveway. Rolling his eyes at the gawking boy, he signed for the package and shut the door in his face. The large manila envelope was unmarked except for his name printed across the front. Unfastening the top, he reached inside and pulled out a magazine. The color drained from his face as he read the headline across the cover. Dropping it like it burned, he ripped open the envelope to see if anything else was inside. There was no note, no return address, nothing. He bolted for the front door and yanked it open, but the courier was already down the drive and pulling onto the street.
“Fuck,” he exhaled. Running a hand through his hair, he retrieved the magazine from the floor. After sucking in a heavy breath, he flipped through the pages until he found the article. His heart hammered in his chest as he read the headline again.
He’s In Love With A Stripper?
No, not T-Pain. It seems Hollywood playboy Anders Ellis is back to his old tricks. A source has revealed exclusively to OK! magazine the details of Hollywood’s latest scandal: “Anders has been cheating on girlfriend and costar, Aubrey Nash, with a stripper who goes by the name Ivy.”
Oh, no he didn’t!
“They’ve been seeing each other secretly for quite some time,” the source divulged. “Aubrey’s beside herself.”
The relationship was discovered after a series of text messages between the secret duo was uncovered. “The texts were of a very explicit and intimate nature. Jealousy is most likely the motivating factor for the release of these private exchanges. It’s obvious the mysterious Ivy was less than pleased with the budding romance between Anders and Aubrey.”
So what will become of the new It Couple?
“Aubrey is a very understanding woman. She also has very strong feelings for Anders. They’ll get through this.”
So who is this mystery girl? Will she destroy Hollywood’s newest golden couple before they even begin?
Stay tuned for the latest news!
Anders tightened his hands around the edges of the magazine before ripping it in two and sending the pages fluttering to the ground. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved as anger and betrayal swelled inside his chest. Disgusted, he grabbed the page with the article and shoved it in his pocket. In a red haze, he stormed out the door and jumped into his car. As he peeled onto the road, he focused on one destination, one person.
He couldn’t believe it was happening all over again. The first time he tried to open up to someone again and she turned out to be just like Eva. A sudden thought hit him, and when he looked in the rearview mirror, the air in his lungs froze. Whipping his car into the first parking lot he saw, he slammed on the brakes and gripped the steering wheel. The car behind him slowed to a crawl, the guy in the passenger seat turning his body toward Anders as his camera flash fired in rapid succession. The anger simmering below the surface faded, and in its place was all-consuming rage.
Yes, it was going to be exactly like last time.
Josie was punishing him. This was her way of getting back at him for the wrong she believed he’d done. For a second he questioned if she could really be behind this. Shaking his head in disgust, he let his doubt go. He never thought his childhood best friend, his first everything, would bleed him dry and break his heart either.
Ivy.
The article said Ivy, not Josie. She kept her name out of it. She made it so the one thing he hated more than anything would happen: the paparazzi would follow him everywhere. They would be relentless. The past he worked so hard to bury would be resurrected. He looked around, realizing that the car following him had pulled into the lot across the street. They were waiting to see where he would go so they could follow.
“Goddamn it,” he roared, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. He ripped his phone from his pocket, sneering as the name Ivy glowed back at him. Pressing call, he waited as her phone rang over and over before connecting to voice mail. The sound of her voice vibrated against his skin, burning below the surface as his chest ached with each syllable. He hung up, cutting off the sultry cadence of her voice. He wasn’t giving up.
Where are you? We need to talk.
Each second dragged like sandpaper across his skin. He called again, her voice mail picking up once more. His mouth ached from the tight set of his jaw as his teeth ground together. She didn’t get to ignore him. She didn’t get to ruin his life and walk off into the sunset.
Answer the phone. Don’t make me come to your house.
Josie stared at her phone like it was a bomb, each text and call, a tick of the clock counting down to detonation. Her eyes drifted to the plain white envelope in front of her and the silver key lying next to it. She assumed that was the reason for his call. He realized she had it. There was no other reason for him to be so persistent. Her jaw ticked with annoyance. He had no right to be angry or demanding. Before she could talk herself out of it, she texted him back.
Fuck you, Anders. I don’t have to do anything. Go to my house. It’ll be a waste of time. I’m not there.
It took less than thirty seconds for him to respond.
WHERE ARE YOU?
Fire burned inside her and all of a sudden she wanted to give him the key. She wanted to scream at him for being an asshole, even if it only inflicted a small measure of the pain he’d inflicted on her. She wanted a moment’s reprieve from the turmoil twisting inside her.
I’m at the studio. If you have something to say, I suggest you hurry. I won’t wait for you. Not ever again.
Anders clamped his hand around the phone before jerking his arm back and sending it flying against the passenger side door. He looked at the car across the street and smirked. “Fuck you, assholes,” he growled. They could follow him to the studio, but they wouldn’t be allowed inside. They wouldn’t get their money shot.
In less than ten minutes, Anders pulled through the gate, his breaths nothing more than angry pants as he stormed inside. The moment he saw her, the world melted away. Her stance was both casual and defensive as she leaned against the front of Craig’s desk. With her arms crossed over her chest it was clear she was ready for a fight, and he was going to give it to her.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” The words were out of his mouth before he crossed the threshold.
Josie’s lips parted in shock and her pulse thundered in her ears. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t act like you have no idea what I’m talking about, Ivy.” He spat her name like it was poison. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t harmless ivy inked across her skin, but the kind that made flesh burn and weep as it spread like a disease.
Her flinch wasn’t visible on the outside, but inside her chest cracked at the hateful way he spoke her name. Every doubt and insecurity she ever felt hit her full force. He didn’t care about her. He never had. Josie shut down, her vision tunneling into a black hole of anger, sorrow, and regret. “If you have something to say, asshole, I suggest you say it. I’m not going to stand here and try to figure out what’s going on in that fucked up head of yours.”
Anders shook his head in disbelief. “The magazine, Josie. The motherfucking magazine. Did they pay you well? Did you enjoy selling me out? I never pegged you for a malicious bitch, but I guess I was wrong. Big fucking surprise there.”
The last word hadn’t even fallen from his lips before her hand connected with the side of his face. “You’re a piece of shit, Anders Ellis. You treat me like I’m nothing, you cheat on me, and now you have the nerve to insult me? Fuck you.” She spun around to grab the envelope when the rest of his words registered. Turning back to face him, she ignored the look of shock still etched across his face. “And for the record, I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
Anders snapped out of his daze. “I’m talking about the magazine delivered to my house today about my secret affair with you. Nice touch making yourself a stripper, by the way.”
The color drained from Josie’s face as confusion and dread sank like lead in the pit of her stomach. “What?”
The drastic change in her demeanor caused Anders’ throat to tighten. When he spoke again, his voice was more uncertain but no less angry. “Stop playing games. I know you’re the one who talked to those leeches. No one else knows I call you Ivy.”