Authors: Christy Pastore
“
Do
not
go anywhere without him.”
“
Not even the bathroom,” I quipped.
“
Wow, you
are
on a comedy roll this morning, Miss Prescott.” He shot me an irritated look.
“
Really, Ronan? Is this totally necessary?” I wailed, yanking the keycard from his long fingers.
“
Holliday, do not fight me on this, please. When I’m not here, it will give me peace of mind knowing someone’s looking out for your safety and well-being.”
“
It’s a wonder how I survived twenty-six years on Earth.”
“
Don’t be smart,” he admonished. “I’m doing this more for me than I am for you.”
That was nice of him to say, but I knew that was not completely true. I knew he was freaking out thinking my ex would come back for me and finish the job he’d started.
“
Fine,” I scoffed as I jumped out of bed, retrieving my clothing from the dresser. I pulled on my black leggings and grey USC t-shirt. “Is he at least good-looking? I’ve always wanted a sexy buff guy to watch over me. If I have to spend time with a man he should be good-looking.”
Ronan stepped in front of me, encircling his arms around my waist. “My beauty, are you trying to make me jealous?”
“
Me? No. Not ever.” My tone was completely sarcastic, but I managed to give him a devious grin so he wouldn’t be too upset by my smart mouth.
“
Okay, enough. I’m tabling this conversation for later. Order room service if you want and charge it to me. Anything you want.”
He bent to kiss me on the lips, caressing my tongue with his over and over. His hands were twisting my loose waves. He grasped the base of my throat, wrapping his long fingers around the nape of my neck. Shock waves rippled through my core right to my toes. I swear they actually curled up.
Ronan released his grasp on my neck and pulled me out of the bedroom by my hand.
After making our way upstairs, Ronan introduced me to Blake. He was very nice and surprisingly very good-looking. He was as tall as Dean, broad shoulders with a trim physique, looking like he’d stepped out of an Armani ad rather than the military. Blake’s dark wavy hair was swept back off his forehead, hanging just above the collar of his black moto jacket. I noticed his eyes immediately, an icy cool blue
. Why the fuck would Ronan hire a bodyguard for me that looks like a dreamy sex pot?
Ronan kissed me goodbye and walked out the door. I felt alone, that type of loneliness that causes a chill to run up your spine. I needed coffee to warm me up. In the butler’s pantry, I found Ronan had made a fresh pot. I stood there sipping the delicious vanilla hazelnut blend, and it instantly warmed my belly. Glancing at my phone, I noticed I had several messages. One was from Charlotte telling me to call her immediately. There were several messages from people I hadn’t talked to in years and one from my college roommate, Amelia.
What the hell is going on?
My mind immediately retreated down into the darkest place, thinking someone had died. I pulled up Charlotte’s number and she answered on the first ring.
“
Hey sis, what’s going on?” I asked coolly.
“
Holliday, you’re splashed all over the tabloids this morning.”
“
What are you talking about?”
“
There are pictures of you climbing into and out of a limo at the Hawthorne Park Plaza. It’s all over the internet, pictures of you with Grady James, of Ronan Connolly kissing you on the cheek and countless other images. The headlines are my favorite. You look beautiful, just stunning.”
“
Thanks for saying that Char, you’re sweet. I don’t have my laptop here.”
“
Yeah you do. I know I packed it in your suitcase.”
I went to the closet and found my laptop and charger along with some work stuff on the shelf.
How did I overlook that?
Oh, yeah maybe because I’d been doing nothing but screwing Ronan all week and thinking of nothing else.
“
Okay found it, gimme a few to boot it up.” My chest tightened as I felt my blood pumping vigorously through my body. I went to the bathroom to take my pill, as a precaution, and waited for my computer to start. “What do the headlines say, Charlotte?”
“
Ronan Connolly Spotted at Charity Gala with Charlotte Ricchetti Designs Executive, Holliday Prescott. Mom is going to flip her lid when she finds out you’re linked to Ronan Connolly.”
“
Mom, I don’t even want to imagine the mental wedding she’s planning in her head.” I laughed. “I’d hardly call myself an executive.”
“
Thanks for the headline and bringing attention to my company though,” she teased. “Holliday, that’s just one of dozens of headlines.”
I did a search for my name, and sure as can be I was one of the top trending news stories. Rather, my relationship with Ronan was a top story.
Crap!
“
Sis, this is going to spin out of control. Does Ronan know you have a past with Grady?”
“
No,” I answered sharply. “And I’d love to keep it that way. It was just a fling. It was
never
serious.”
“
Not
that
serious? Okay Holliday, if that’s the way you want to play it.”
“
Look Char, how do you think Ronan would feel knowing it was Grady who was the first man I opened up to about the rape? That Grady was the one who held me when I had nightmares and flashbacks. That it was Grady, who went to a friends and family therapy session with me? I will handle telling Ronan that information someday…
if
I need to.”
“
The tabloids say there is bad blood between Ronan and Grady.”
“
Yeah, I gathered that, too. Grady told me last night he thought Ronan was a first class jerk— he didn’t elaborate. Then Ronan told me to stay away from Grady.”
“
Did he say why?”
“
Nope, I didn’t have any time to ask any questions. Ronan was busy the entire night and then we had a fight. Then we had mind-blowing makeup sex.”
I scanned the headlines, bookmarking my favorite ones.
RONAN CONNOLLY HEATS UP COLD NIGHT IN NYC WITH HOT BRUNETTE
FIVE THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT RONAN CONNOLLY’S NEW LADY, HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT
IS RONAN CONNOLLY DATING FASHION EXECUTIVE HOLLIDAY PRESCOTT?
The five things article was interesting. Apparently my favorite coffee was a vanilla soy latte from a café over in Soho— it’s
so-ho
not. I’d gone to this café once. My favorite food was Italian, especially Lorenzo’s on the Upper East Side. That was a lucky guess. Lucan was part owner.
“
Your life is rough these days, sis,” she huffed.
“
You’re the Park Avenue princess, not me. Remember?” I shot back playfully.
“
Oh right, yeah I am pretty lucky. Did I tell you that Lucan and I are flying off to Bora Bora while the girls stay with his parents in London?”
“
No! That is exciting, sis. When is this happening?” I asked and then took a sip of my coffee.
“
Yeah, I need to talk to you about that. We’re flying on the 23
rd
.”
“
Char, what the fuck?” I snapped. “Thanks for telling me. So we’re not having Christmas together this year?”
“
Sorry sis, I was thinking we can do Christmas together before we leave. It will be special. I promise. Four course Italian meal, plenty of booze and presents. Bring Ronan if you want. And you can drive the Maserati while we’re gone,” she pleaded with me. Then she dangled that hot fucking car, appealing to my need for speed. I couldn’t deny her a vacation— she worked too damn hard. They deserved a break, and I wouldn’t be bringing Ronan Connolly to meet the family over Christmas dinner. My sister was absurd.
“
Fine,” I scoffed. “I’ll see you this weekend. Ronan’s flying back to California on Friday.”
“
When’s he coming back to the city?”
“
I honestly don’t know.” I paused. “He asked me to give him Derek’s name. I told him no.”
“
What do you mean, sis?” Her tone was seething with anger. “Why does he want to know that sadistic fuck’s name?”
“
I think he just needs to know or see the guy’s face. I guess.”
“
Makes sense, men are weird creatures like that. You know it won’t take Ronan long now to find pictures of you and Derek right?”
“
Maybe, but all of
these
pictures from the event are linked to me by real name.”
“
Holliday, you should tell Ronan before he finds out on his own. Otherwise it will be a bigger fight than you want to deal with, because it
will
be a fight. You can’t keep something this huge from a well-connected movie star. Trust me, powerful men always find a way around things and they have their ways of obtaining information regular people cannot find.”
Charlotte would know. Lucan had had a full on background check done before he’d started dating her. My sister obviously had passed his dating requirements checklist since they’ve been married for nearly four years. Lucan didn’t even care about her pervious drug use or our father’s untimely death and the emotional baggage that Charlotte carried with it. They were hopelessly in love— like sugary sweet with a cherry on top in love.
They’d met when Lucan had attended a fashion show in Milan. He’d seen Charlotte elegantly gliding down the catwalk and had been so taken that he found a way to meet her after the show. Lucan had been smitten with her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, so he told it. Lucan swept Charlotte off her feet, and it hadn’t been long after that, that my sister left the modeling world behind at the age of twenty-five and started planning her Italian dream wedding in Ravello.
“
Holliday, I have to get to a meeting, but try to talk to Ronan okay? Love you. Ciao.”
“
Okay. Bye Char, love you too.”
Before I knew it an hour had gone by. I was shamelessly wrapped up in reading every juicy morsel about myself on the Internet. I changed into my workout clothes and called Blake. He was waiting outside and dutifully escorted me to the gym. I guess he was allowed to work out with me if he wanted, but he didn’t. Could I talk to him? Were we allowed to be friends? I didn’t really know how all this bodyguard stuff worked.
Blake was quiet most of the day. He told me he was from Texas, Dallas to be exact, and had always wanted to be in the military. He was very careful not to disclose too much— he never even said which branch of the military. I wondered if Blake Foster was a special ops lethal killing machine, a trained assassin like Jason Bourne.
An hour and thirty lunges later, I found myself enjoying lunch at the café downstairs of The York where I ate at a table by myself. Blake was seated nearby, reading a book while watching our surroundings with a keen eye. A scene flashed in my mind where ninjas dressed in black invaded the hotel, and Blake defended all of us with roundhouse kicks and punches to their faces, breaking bones and disarming their weapons. Several combative moves later the evil ninjas lay bloodied, some dead, and Blake was the hero. Women surrounded him frantically, relieved and thankful for his bravery. Blake waved them off. He only had eyes for one woman. His gaze locked on her, and she fell forward. He scooped up the pretty red-haired woman, carrying her off into the sunset. I smiled knowing that would be the plot to a great action thriller.
Blake Foster: Ninja Destroyer
. Okay, so the title needed work.
Blake escorted me back to the penthouse where the door swung open to showcase Ronan with a team of decorators, busy turning the living room into a winter wonderland. Christmas music blared through the sound system. My jaw dropped open and I found myself in awe of the scene unfolding before my eyes.