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“Nah, not tonight. Tonight, anything goes.”
He tosses his cigarette and opens the door. “After you.”
GIA
Present – Twenty-five years old
Manhattan, New York
A bare foot jabs me in the ribs. “Gia.”
“Oh my God, what?” I sit up and blink at Julianna, who stands over me looking perfect. Rolling my eyes, I fall back onto the incredibly comfortable mattress.
When she sits, the bed dips and I open one eye. “Go away with all your beauty. It’s bugging me.”
She starts to laugh, taking her blond hair down as she lets it cascade over her shoulders. She’s like a porcelain Barbie doll.
“Stop it. I only wish I was you.” She crosses her long legs in some incredible, form-fitting black slacks.
I sit up and the room spins slightly from last night’s tequila. Also, I’m kind of off balance, lying here in my darkened canopy bed.
“God, my life.” I rub my head and try to swing the heavy canopy open to give me a little more light. “Did I miss something? Are we going out?” Pushing the rat’s nest known as my hair out of my face, I blink a few times.
She sighs dramatically as I crawl over to reach for my cigarettes. “No. I had to meet with my lawyer. Then Matthew showed up. I just can’t.”
I barely get the cigarette lit when she takes it from me.
“Oh God. Shit, the lawyer,” I groan, now remembering that appointment. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I tried.” She shoots me a glare and I burst out laughing as I lean back on an ornate pillow, taking the cigarette back.
“So, what happened? Are you keeping the apartment?” I look around in distaste. I’m trying to be positive because Julianna is kind of fragile right now, but God, I don’t care that this place is worth millions; you couldn’t pay me to live here.
Her eyes look up at the red and gold canopy with gold tassels hanging down, and she shakes her head. “I gave it to him. I mean, come on, when he wanted to decorate all the bedrooms like Versailles, that should have been one big fat red flag,” she mutters, reaching for the cigarette again. A pang of guilt runs through me. I haven’t been the best influence on her lately.
I showed up a fucking mess, crying and doped up on Sebastian’s Valium, which I found in my bag, and the gin I shot on the plane. We haven’t exactly been sober since, and I think that was a week ago.
Julianna had really quit smoking and look at her now. Sheesh.
“I just.” She looks up at the ceiling, then swings her hair over her shoulder and looks at me. “My dad is all over me to make him pay, and all I want to do is sign the divorce papers and forget this nightmare ever happened.”
I nod, trying to be supportive as I attempt to detangle myself from the ornate bedspread.
“Agreed, sign the papers.” Jesus Christ, I need a lady-in-waiting to help me out of this bed. Her eyes follow me as I try to get out.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. Why?” She rolls her eyes. “Margaritas?”
“Um.” I’m finally free of the bedding. “Is it noon yet? What day is it?” I say over my shoulder, trying my hardest not to look at myself in the large gold mirror in the bathroom. I’m holding on by a thin thread; hence the massive quantities of alcohol so I can pass out and not think about him.
“It’s Thursday the twenty-first!” she calls out as I use the toilet. “And it’s noon somewhere.”
I grin because it’s better than crying. I have completely lost it, holed myself up with Julianna for… “Wait. What is today?” I jump up and frantically finish doing my business, then stumble to wash my hands.
“The twenty-first,” she yells again. “How about we do Irish coffees? That way it’s like breakfast.”
“Julianna, stop it.” I march out and stare at her.
I must look bad because she says, “Are you going to take a shower, or should I just call and have all the stuff deliv—”
“Oh my God.” I grab her arm, looking at her. “Holy fuck, I’m dead.”
“What? What now? I can’t take anymore, Gia. What have you done?” Letting go of her, I cover my mouth before I start screaming. I need to think.
“I need your phone.” I motion with my fingers for her to hand it to me. She looks at me and frowns as she goes to her cute Chanel purse and hands me her phone. I take a breath. “Shit. I need alcohol and give me a cigarette.”
She runs over to the nightstand and grabs the pack. “What is happening? I haven’t seen anything on the news.” She hands it to me.
“Axel,” is all I say.
“Yes?” She looks confused.
“What the hell, Julianna? The wedding is in two days. In Los Angeles. We’re in Manhattan.” I sit down in a gaudy, high-backed gold chair. “This is bad, so fucking bad. I… we have to go. Do you think your dad would let us use his private plane?” I lean back and light up as she stands there staring at me like I’m growing horns.
