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“For real. And I didn’t see it coming either. Or this.” She crooked her finger at them as she crossed to the window. The huge conglomeration around Corey remained.
“What’s going on down there?” Jace asked. “And what a pretentious fucking limo.”
“That’s Corey for you.”
Jace’s gaze shot to her. “The hell you say?”
“Yep.” She still quaked from the inside out over the sight of him, and it had nothing to do with his bad boy looks or any sort of residual affection. She had no residual affection for Corey Crenshaw. If anything, L.L.’s fury made her want to kick him between the legs—so hard she launched his balls into his throat.
“What’s he doing out there?” This from a now equally distressed Meg.
“Letting his fans bow down and kiss his feet,” L.L. said. “A couple of minutes before that, he was grabbing me by the arm and trying to keep me from walking away from him.”
“Bastard. I ought to go down there and kick the crap out of him.” Jace actually did an about-face and started for the door.
“Don’t you dare!” L.L. cried out. “He has bodyguards and hero worshippers! Jace!”
He pulled up short at the entrance to her office and turned back to her, fuming. “That low-life piece of shit deserves my fist in his face.”
Despite the tense scenario, L.L. softened. “You really are a great friend. Both of you. I know you took offense to what he did to me.”
“If only I’d seen him sometime afterward,” Jace contended, “I would have laid him flat. But he didn’t come back to L.A. while we were still there.”
“Probably because he knew you’d lay him flat.” She sighed. “Even though what he did to me completely wrecked me for a time, Jace, let’s face it. I am so much better off without him. I mean…thank God he left me when I confronted him, instead of him begging me to take him back. I just might have.”
“No,” Meg insisted. “You would not have. You’re much smarter than that.”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I loved him so fucking fiercely. So fucking faithfully. He was all I knew—I ate, slept and breathed Corey Crenshaw before the entire world even learned of his existence.”
Oh, what a fool she’d been. Not initially. In the beginning, he’d been good natured and loving. But once Corey had started pursuing his dream to be a famous guitar player with gusto, he’d changed. Drastically. Despicably.
Jace gently clasped her upper arms. “You have a new life, L.L. From the moment you ended it with him. You’re stronger. You’re more stable. And…goddamn it! You’re in love with Tague Mason?”
L.L. smiled, despite it all. Because just the mere mention of Tague suddenly made her heart flutter.
“Yes, indeed.” She confirmed.
But then dread seized her once more.
She told her friends, “Problem is, he’s moving to Tokyo at the end of the week.”
“What?” Meg shrieked.
“I know, right? I serio
usly cannot catch a break in the romance department.” L.L. stripped off her jacket and hung it on the coatrack. Divested herself of the beanie, gloves and glasses. Left her thick, crimson-colored scarf on that not only kept the chill at bay—from the weather and thoughts of Corey—but also accessorized her short, winter white sweater dress.
“Damn,” Jace muttered. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either, to be honest,” L.L. told them. “I feel like I’ve been on a gravity-defying roller coaster ride since last Monday morning, and I’ve left my heart at the top of one hill and my stomach in the corkscrews as a result of my suddenly thrill-seeking ways. And life as I know it will never be the same.”
36
Later, L.L. was at the counter in her small kitchen, slicing veggies while Tague sat at the round dining table.
“So, the Tokyo branch of Mason, Hoffman & Stein is a definite go,” he announced. “My father gave his full support, which I wasn’t sure he’d do since he’d hedged last week and needed more time to make his decision.”
“Congratulations,” she said, trying to concentrate on what Tague said—and what she was doing—and keep thoughts of her confrontation with Corey from her mind.
